Disclaimers and Notes: Harry Potter is not mine, nor are any of the characters or items used in this fanfiction (thus, the word/term "Fanfiction"). HP belongs to J. K. Rowling, and she's a wonderful author for it. I respect her. Her work is beautiful, to say the least. Some information is from the aid of the Harry Potter Lexicon, I do not claim it as my own.
Okay, this didn't come as soon as I'd hoped, but I did work on it everyday. Literally.
Sorry if things have been a bit confusing or complicated for a lot of you. This is supposed to sort of story that doesn't tell or explain everything right away, and then when the truth is found it, it'll all come together. Like an enigma of sorts!
Hope you like it!
READ and REVEIW, as always. ^__~
Thank you.
Geuna~
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Charmed Curses
By Lady Geuna
Rated: This chapter will be rated PG
Summary: What if James Potter wasn't killed on Halloween, 1981? Voldemort devised the perfect punishment for his insolence. A curse that would cause James more pain than the Cruciatus Curse could ever. But things don't exactly turn out as planned, and fate takes a strange turn for those in the past, as well as the future.
Updated Summary: Now that James Potter is safe within the walls of Hogwarts, surrounded by his closest friends, everything seems well. But now they will have to deal with what they have brought back with them... Hogwarts is no longer safe for anyone....
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"..." speech
'....' thoughts
/.../ with italics means a flashback or a part of a flashback
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Wizard Bound
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"When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them... .... This is magic at its deepest, its most unpenetrable, Harry..."
Albus Dumbledore ~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Chapter 22 (Owl Post Again), by J. K. Rowling
".... In such times of crises, you cannot afford to let your own differences destroy you. And I assure you, they will eventually, my boys..."
Albus Dumbledore ~ Fanfiction "Charmed Curses", Meetings, by Lady Geuna
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'This is the calm before the storm.....'
'Patience...'
Humming.
'Be patient....'
Lucius ate in silence with his wife, thought he did open his mouth on occasion to comment on his meal. She had attempted unsuccessfully more than once to start up a conversation with him. Narcissa was still scared of him, he could tell, but he did feel much better than he had. Lucius had cleaned up, healed his wounds, and changed his robes. No one other than Narcissa would have noticed his state earlier that day...
Narcissa took and sip of her soup, her eyes on her husband the whole time. Lucius thought this was horribly annoying, but he wouldn't say anything. "Shall you be going to work at the same time tomorrow, darling?"
"Why?"
She sighed, looking down at her soup. Hm... His wife honestly looked... worried? No, she was hardly ever worried about him. "I was thinking... that perhaps you should get some more sleep. You've been awake for hours now."
'She really is worried...' That was surprising, considering their positions as "husband and wife" rarely went anywhere beyond the title itself. They didn't share "loving moments" with each other. "I am expected to go to Hogwarts on business tomorrow. I will sleep as much as I can until then, you need not concern." He took a sip a wine... Mm, very nice...
Narcissa didn't look happy with this as all, but she didn't argue, nor did she ask why he was going. "Does Draco know of your visit?"
"I have written him an owl, and I will send it to him in the morning." Another sip of wine. Draco... I child now, but eventually he would grow up to continue what Lucius worked for. Once Hogwarts was out of the way, Draco could begin his real training... "I will be sure to great him while I'm there." But he couldn't bother with that for long.
There was business to be taken care of for his master...
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Harry would expect the second meeting between him and his father to be amazing, sentimental and simply mind blowing in its importance and wonder, wouldn't you? Well, as it happened, it was anything but... It was humiliating, actually. All they did was... stand there... Having Madame Pomfrey standing in the room, watching from the side, didn't help in the slightest, either.
They had arrived just on time, due to Hermione's continues insisting that they must be punctual. His father had been standing in front of his bed, pacing, chatting along with Madame Pomfrey as he did so. When he saw Harry and his friends he stopped, smiled... And now, here they were....
'What now,' Harry thought, swallowing hard, starring at his hands for a moment to "get away", and thought about the situation.
Formally when he would meet a new person, Harry would simply shake their hand. Well at least with the whole "introduction" thing, which he really didn't need to do, anyway. But this wasn't "formal", really.... This was a his father, a relative... Well, he couldn't remember ever hugging one of the Dursley's before... Better yet, it would probably be safer if it stayed that way. He didn't desire to hug or touch any of the Dursley's unless it was with a very long pole...
Wait! He hugged his godfather! He did it all the time in fact! So he could! He should!
ARGH, he'd been standing here for too long, Ron and Hermione were starring-do it now or not at all!
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He was getting nervous... James wasn't even sure how to move with Harry here.
'Dammit.' And it really didn't help that his two friends (Ron and Hermione?) just starred at him like he was some-some thing on for show! James didn't look so bad... right...? Madame Pomfrey had acquired for him some robes for him to dress in, too, so he felt more comfortable. They weren't not helping, really (at least in some cases), but they weren't helping his embarrassment any. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry and he friends standing instead of sitting in the chairs just behind each of them... Oh someone do something already!
Then, finally, Harry made a move.
At first it looked as though the boy were diving at him for some odd reason, but James knew what Harry was doing after his arms wrapped around James' shoulders and squeezed a little.
It was sweet (though a little acquired) and James soon found himself hugging back, some of the tension dissipating.
"Dad," Harry said as he let go, smiling, "I wanted you to meet my friends. This is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."
James nodded toward each of them, shaking their hands. "Pleasure."
And finally, the other three took a seat. There was a moment of tolerable silence before Ron spoke up, grinning, "We've heard a bloody lot about you, Mr. Potter... It's really great to finally meet you."
Hermione smiled winningly, her cheeks a little flushed as she nodded in agreement. "Smashing. It's a real honor, sir."
James smiled as well, Hermione suddenly reminding him of Lily for some reason... No, he would let that ruin the moment, not now... "And I've heard a lot about you as well..."
Hermione looked faltered, while Ron looked both surprised and suspicious. "Use..? What have you heard...? You aren't confusing me with my brothers, are you?"
"Remus-er, Professor Lupin was in here earlier and he was telling me a bit about Harry." He gave a smile toward Harry, who smiled back, looking a bit uncertain about what Lupin might've told him. "Don't worry, nothing bad... yet... As long as Sirius hasn't rubbed off on you, anyway..."
"Um..." Harry paused, as if looking for the right words. "I guess only things that I would need to know, I guess..."
".... I trust you aren't getting into as much trouble as I did at your age..." When James saw the expressions on their faces he started laughing, he couldn't help himself. "Oh Merlin, you're that bad, are you?"
Harry was flushing red, his head sagging. "Well... I..."
"Harry doesn't get into much trouble," Ron explained quickly. "I mean, no less than anyone else I suppose. I mean, we all get into trouble! It's like it comes looking for us!"
Hermione sighed, patting a very embarrassed Harry on the shoulder. "Ron tends to embellish a bit."
Ron mumbled something under his breath, sitting back.
But my, they were certainly a interesting bunch! I wonderful group of friends, just like when he was young...
For a moment he watched Harry and Hermione. The girl still had her hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture he accepted. He remembered Lily doing that to him all the time...
Oh wait... these two... Were they...? "Oh.... Oh!" It was so obvious! Just like James and Lily when they were in school! And before he really thought about it much, words were popping out of his mouth, "She's very pretty... You're two are very lucky."
Harry blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"
".... Hermione looks like a wonderful girl... I mean, you two... You know...."
It was when James saw the shocked expression on Harry and Hermione's faces, and the look of abject horror written on Ron's, when James realized he had made a big, big mistake...
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"So, how are they doing," Professor McGonagall asked hurriedly. "Are they doing well?"
They were standing just outside the doors of the infirmary. None of the occupants inside knew they were there, but it certainly wasn't the other way around. Harry and his friends sat, talking quietly to Mr. Potter... The situation looked very tense, indeed...
"I'm afraid that they are all turning a rather interesting shade of crimson, Minerva," Dumbledore muttered, all the while trying to force the laughter from his voice. It was never polite to laugh at the expense of others... But there are times in which that can't be helped. "Ah, to be young again..."
McGonagall made a face, shaking her head. "Professor Dumbledore, really!"
"I am also afraid that James Potter will be needing a bit of coaching on how to raise a teenager," he said seriously, carefully closing the door to the Infirmary. "And we shouldn't be watching this," though Madame Pomfrey should've informed him of this meeting in the first place... As he began walking back down the hallway, McGonagall close behind, he pleasantly asked, "How have your classes been going lately, Minerva?"
"Very well," she answered hurriedly. "But Mr. Arthur Weasley; is this why you asked him to come here?"
"Yes, Arthur will be staying at Hogwarts as a temporary guest. He won't take up too much room in the castle, I'm sure."
"And the Minister will allow this," McGonagall said incredulously, raising an eyebrow in that distinguished manner that she always seemed to possess. "Why would he be so lenient. You haven't been on good terms in so long, and ("not that I think they should") I never expected that to improve..."
"Neither did I," Dumbledore muttered, sounding all but displeased. "I have no choice if we want Mr. Potter or any of use to remain safe..." 'Hopefully it will be worth the effort...'
"But the Ministry might decide to cover this up!"
"I disagree. Even Cornelius Fudge wouldn't dare do such a thing..."
//Flashback to the earlier part of the conversation between Fudge and Dumbledore the day before...//
"This can only mean dark things. Dark things."
"I beg to differ, Cornelius." Dumbledore sat back in his armchair, folding his long fingers delicately as he starred forward into the fire and at the bobbing head of the Minister of Magic. "These are good times indeed, for James Potter to be returning--"
"Please, Dumbledore, the timing is too suspicious! First Dementors attack the London Underground--Many were killed yesterday... And then James Potter shows up at Hogwarts! It's inconceivable, surely!"
"I told you the Dementors couldn't be trusted. They are dark creatures..."
Cornelius Fudge ignored the comment, continuing hurriedly, "And a Ministry team was attacked while searching for the Dementors. By other Wizards ("Even the Daily Prophet knows about this by now!"). And this 'James Potter' was also seen by Mr. Ollivander in Diagon Alley. How do you explain that?"
"James Potter was wandering and lost until he came to us, and he was seen earlier in the morning. It's no surprise that he would come here. After all, it's the safest place Mr. Potter could remember. He would've had enough time to reach Hogwarts by many different means after he left Ollivander's. And as for the attack..." Regretfully, Dumbledore was fully aware or who had attacked the Ministry team. But it would do no good to get Sirius, Lupin or Snape into this matter anymore than they already were... "Death Eaters, perhaps...?"
Fudge actually pondered this. "Taking advantage of the situation? How like them, I suppose..."
Dumbledore shook his head. "Perhaps they weren't sent by Death Eaters? You should be fully aware by now, Voldemort--"
"No." Fudge's head seemed to shiver suddenly and go wildly out of focus. "This has nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and it won't! I have heard enough of your assumptions, I want facts. And I have no way of telling that this man is who he says he is."
Dumbledore had already told him over and over about the Pensive and the strange "Time-Turner". But of course, Fudge wouldn't take his word for it... "What other evidence would you require," he asked patently.
Fudge seemed to be getting annoyed with Dumbledore's calm, cool attitude toward all this. "In that case, would you mind at all if I sent a few people to view this evidence themselves?" It almost sounded like a threat, a challenge. It probably was. "I just want to be sure, Dumbledore. This is a man who's supposed to be dead, and though He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not returned, I do admit that there has been an unusual amount of Death Eater activity. Probably those trying to scare people, those with a dislike for Muggles, that's all. They have nothing but a few cheap tricks."
'They don't need to try hard, Cornelius. You're oversimplifying.' And how anyone could classify a Dementor attack as a "cheap trick" was beyond him...
"And I find is very unusual that Mr. Potter would be able to... to survive. Only one other person has been able to survive an attack by Him..."
"Like father, like son," Dumbledore noted, smiling ever so slightly, giving an almost inaudible chuckle. "And with all due respect, Cornelius, I am more than certain that your men will in fact discover the truth tomorrow. But think about it, Cornelius. Harry Potter is already a symbol of hope for Wizarding communities all over the world. Just think about it... Harry Potter and James Potter, coming together to form an even brighter symbol of hope."
Fudge seemed to think about this one, his eyes glazing over in thought.
"And," Dumbledore continued, moving in for the 'kill', "your reputation will become even greater if you are the one to officially announce it to the world."
Fudge's face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Dumbledore nodded to himself, smiling. Or course Fudge would dive at the chance to make himself look good for the public. This was the perfect opportunity.
"All right, Dumbledore," Fudge said gently, as though he had come to this decision after much deliberation, "I will send three officials over tomorrow. And keep in mind, they will be able to tell if this Pensive of yours has been tapered with in any way."
//End Flashback//
'I have to play pawn to Cornelius as long as I can... It will keep everyone safe, for now...' "Cornelius can't touch Mr. Potter, not with so many witnesses and the potential to straighten his hold on the public."
McGonagall muttered something rather crossly, then whispered, "And then, what about Mr. Black and Professor Lupin..."
"No one will find out Sirius Black is within these walls, and as long as Lupin follows the Werewolf Code of Conduct, and has been properly entered into the Werewolf Registry ("Though I have no doubt he already is"), I seriously doubt there will be a problem."
But still, McGonagall frowned. "We're putting him at risk as well, Albus. Are you sure there isn't anything we can do...? People don't take kindly to werewolves, and neither does the Minister..."
Dumbledore knew what she was thinking, which was horribly somewhere along the lines of a Werewolf Capture Unit... But no one would dare do that to someone such as Remus J Lupin. Never. He was too well known for his "good behavior", had too many friends in high places, and the Werewolf Support Services would surly hang anyone responsible were he to come to harm. Lucius or anyone else wouldn't dare to touch him when he had so many allies.
He sighed, smiling weakly. "Everyone will be safe as long as we keep a sharp eye open and a clear mind, Minerva."
"Yes.... But... What are we fighting now...? If not the Dark Lord, who?"
Dumbledore smiled then. "I'm in the dark as much as you are, Minerva."
"Professor Dumbledore—"
"And I am looking forward to some pumpkin pie! It's delicious, don't you agree? Delightful with a spot of whipped cream."
Professor McGonagall gave him a rather befuddled and almost frustrated look, but shook her head and didn't say anything as they turned the corner to the Great Hall, where voices could already be heard as students waited for dinner...
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It was no use talking to him, and Sirius planned on keeping it that way. He didn't want to hear it, so he stopped listening. That was something he was always good at when it came to Moony, ignoring him when he was saying something he didn't have any interest in. The same exact same thing would happen in Professor Dumbledore's Transfiguration class back when they were in Hogwarts, when he'd nod off or start daydreaming (Lupin was kind enough to remind of his old habits).
But in this case, it wasn't just something Sirius had no interest in. It was something he hated... Despised! Merlin, it was making his blood boil just thinking about it! 'Dammit, dammit, dammit...'
Even now, Lupin, dressed in a pair of baggy Hogwarts pajamas, readied a bed for Sirius in the living area by the fireplace. Lupin would take the bed, as Sirius had insisted since he was still seemed a little sick. He transfigurated a blanket into a sort of mattress, which was a very simple task, and dumped a number of blankets and pillows on top of that. Yet still, he was talking. About the same thing, over and over.
Lupin was never this persistent back in school...
"I don't want to hear it, Remus," he said (again) as Lupin dropped another blanket down and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "You can just give it up now. I don't give a damn, okay?" 'Please, please, please, just leave it alone, Moony...'
But of course Lupin wouldn't leave it alone.
"A Wizard's bond, Sirius. You have to understand."
"I don't believe in such things..."
Lupin frowned as Sirius turned away and began occupying himself with a set of DADA books that Professor Dorrey had left, picking one up and examining the cover with false interest.
"You... I don't believe that--I don't! You're a grown Wizard, Sirius."
"That means nothing!" He slammed the book back down with a deafening crack! that made his own heart jump and caused number of other stacked books to topple over onto the floor. "Damn him! Damn Snape!"
"Calm down," Lupin insisted gently. "Severus isn't our enemy. Maybe once, but not now."
"James shouldn't 've bothered to save that bastard--"
"And let me become a murderer?"
Silence....
Sirius paled. "No.... I didn't mean that, I swear, Remus!"
"Then try thinking before you speak next time..."
Sirius couldn't say anything... Couldn't think of anything to say that would help. He'd been the one to tell Snape about the Whomping Tree. It had been his fault all those years ago and it still was...
"Good evening, Sirius," Lupin said calmly. Then he turned and stalked out of the room without so much as a glance back at his friend. When Lupin entered his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him.
And Sirius could only stare after him, then down at the "bed" Lupin had prepared for him....
"Damn."
'I'm such a fool....'
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Hermione had left them minutes before. Pigwidgeon had also been there minutes before, delivering a letter to Ron. It had taken Ron minutes to actually snag the owl from the air and finally get the letter, which turned out to be from his mother. After writing a quick response, he had gone back to his bed as Harry did.
Then Harry was sure that Neville was asleep, he asked Ron, "So what did you think of him? He didn't seem very... 'unbalanced' to me... He seemed fine, don't you think?" He was. He really was! He father was normal, sane. He had no idea what everyone else was blabbering on about.
Ron nodded. He's been very quite since they left the Medical Wing, and even more quiet when he'd received the letter. Harry hadn't thought to ask him about it though, but maybe he should...? "Seemed so to me as well. Though, he did seems a little loopy." Harry gave him a look, and he quickly corrected, "Goofy--er, I mean, he seemed like he had a good sense of humor...? You know, like Fred and George. I mean, your dad was like them once, right? Playing pranks and that sort of thing?"
Harry smiled. "You're right.... And he knows a lot about Quidditch and all. You can talk to him about a Quidditch position next year!" Next half the present Gryffindor Quidditch team would be graduating. "Maybe we can play a game of Quidditch when the weather improves, you think? I can show him the broom Sirius gave me. I bet you he'll he shocked at how much brooms have advanced these days."
Ron chuckled, shaking his head. "You're really excited, aren't you? We did have some interesting conversations, didn't we? Didn't really think it wouldn't be like that. You're dad's nice."
"It did all go really well in the end..."
"In the end..."
He flopped back in his bed, practically tossing his glasses onto the night stand. "I hope I didn't make a total arse of myself," Harry moaned, pressing the palms on his hands to his eyes. "I can't believe he thought Hermione was my..." He trailed off, the memory making him feel just as embarrassed as he'd felt at the time the event took place.
"Harry.... Do you think of her... that way?"
Ron's question came out of nowhere, but it wasn't necessarily unexpected. Harry thought about it. "Well no, actually..." His mind flashed to the end of last year, when she kissed him on the cheek... No one had ever done that to him before. Hm, he had to be honest to his best friend... "Well, maybe the thought did come to mind... once. Why?"
"No reason," Ron said quickly, closing his curtain. "Night, Harry."
Harry lay there more a while in silence, as if half expect Ron to say something else... But he didn't. "G' night, Ron." And as he closed his eyes Harry remembered something he'd almost forgotten. "Hey, Ron, what was that letter you got before about? The one from your mother?"
There was a long pause, like Ron was trying to think of something to say, then,
"Mum just wanted to make sure I was fine," Ron said from behind his closed curtain, "just like always. You know how overprotective she can be..."
Harry would've felt jealous, but knew better, even though he didn't have a mother around to be worried about him... "Right..." With that, Harry closed his curtain all the way and closed his eyes.....
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The following Sunday morning...
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"No Portkey? Are you serious?"
"You can't honestly expect us to make it there without one?"
"This is ridiculous!"
Mr. Weasley frowned out into the rainy weather while he listen to the three men argue to a young Ministry Witch who looked particularly harassed, her cheeks growing pink.
But you had to give her credit. Normally one would back down from an argument with their superiors, but this woman didn't. "The Minister thought it wouldn't be safe," she tried to explain patently, her voice barely carrying over the sounds of the three men yelling at her at once. "It would be dangerous for Hogwarts to allow a unsecured Portkey to enter, it would mean the schools defenses will be removed--"
"Intolerable," Edward Thornback (of the Department of Magical Transportation) snapped, narrowing his eyes. Thornback was a shrewd and insufferable git that Mr. Weasley had learned to hate long ago. He was the type who loved to brag about his own accomplishments. How he'd been promoted twice in one month back when he had just started in the department. He was tall and skinny with very slick white hair. Age wasn't being very good to him, either.
The second man was Samuel Quell of the Committee On Experimental Charms, and Mr. Weasley actually rather liked the man. After all, they were in the same department (Accidental Magic Reversal). Quell was about Mr. Weasley's own height, blond hair, in his late twenties, and usually had a kind face. This morning, however, Quell didn't look at all happy that he'd had to wake up early for an assignment on short notice (no matter how great the importance). He now stood next to Mr. Weasley, crossing his arms over his chest, deciding not to say anything else for the moment.
Lastly, was Professor Donald A. Rum from the Department of Mysteries... A drunk, as far as Mr. Weasley knew, but a rather brilliant worker for the Department of Mysteries when sober. This morning, however, he had undoubtedly decided not to drink anything in order to look professional, but wasn't being very happy about it. He had dark brown hair with a thick short beard, a little shorter than Mr. Weasley, and his eyes seemed to have permanent shadows under them. How much sleep did he get every night...?
"How long do you suppose it'll take us to make it to Hogwarts," Rum asked.
"Well, I can't say... You will appear somewhere beyond the border of Hogwarts ('Oh, that's going to be a pain in this weather'), but not directly into the castle. Since we can't get a exact location, there may be a risk that you Portkey yourselves into a wall. The previous Portkey was already used, after--"
"Wait," Mr. Weasley stopped her there, raising a hand to silence her a moment. "Someone has already left? Without us? Who?"
"Er..." The girl frowned. "I'll have to check my papers for that, sir. It was an earlier shift, I wasn't even here to assist yet."
Quell clicked his tongue, sharing a puzzled look with Mr. Weasley. "We've been informed that we are the only people to be sent to Hogwarts. Why weren't we told there was someone else?"
"And obviously someone of greater importance," Mr. Weasley noted, "if he can be sent alone without add or assistance. To waste a Portkey on one man is ridiculous."
"I-I..." She was pale now, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, I—"
"Stop your babbling, girl," Thornback snapped, his face wrinkled in a scowl. "Find out! Immediately! We want to be on our was as soon as possible!"
The girl nodded quickly, gulping. "Yes sir!" Then she had turned and fled the room in search of the answers that were been demanded of her.
"I should report that girl," Thornback snorted disdainfully, looking extremely peevish. "Not doing her job at all-we're going to be late for sure!"
Mr. Weasley had heard enough about that. "It's not her fault ("The poor girl"), and don't worry. We aren't scheduled to leave for a while now. What I would like to know is who this person was who left ahead of us..."
Rum shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't know... But it must've been something decided at the last minute, because otherwise we would've know, right?"
Mr. Weasley wasn't sure, but whoever this person was... somehow Mr. Weasley had a very, very bad feeling....
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"Magic From The Dawn Of Time", chapter VII: "Ancient Magic: Magic Of The Most Powerful Sort"
Magic has not always been harnessed through a wand. The old magic (also referred to as ancient magic; see chapter I) is magic which is not cast by a wizard or witch with a wand. It is part of the "magical-ness", if you will, of the universe. Though wandless magic is usually seen as a type of reflex during times of danger or emotional stress, some very complex spells can be inadvertently cast during the most dire of situations. There are a number of examples:
Lupin skimmed through that passages, reading through. 'Self sacrifice.... Dragon hides.... Family blood ties... Ah, there is it. Wizard Bonds...'
When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them, a "life debt." Like other "ancient magic", a wizard or witch has no control over the end results of this bond. This magic cannot be broken, nor destroyed (some say even in death, similar to "self sacrifice"; see first example), and the amount of "debt" required to end the magic, ending the bond, may not be fulfilled by the end of one's lifetime......
Lupin sighed, gently closing the book setting it aside, continuing his search through Dorrey's abandoned books. Some of them were quiet good. Pity he left in such a hurry...
"Where are you going, Remus?"
He thought he had moved quietly enough not to wake his sleeping friend, but obviously he was wrong. Sirius was looking at him now in a way that suggested he'd been watching Lupin for some time now, his long, dark hair a tangled mess from an obviously fitful nights of sleep. Sirius appeared exhausted with dark circles under his eyes. He said nothing, waiting for Lupin to speak first. So he did.
"Did you sleep at all," Lupin asked. "You look a mess."
Sirius ignored that comment, still watching him. "Nightmares, I guess. Bad dreams."
"About?"
"Can't remember, exactly. Where are you going?"
"I'm going to breakfast in the Great Hall." This somehow reminded him to straighten his robes a bit, trying to appear as dignified as possible. The house elves had been kind enough to clean them for him last night, and leave them out for him this morning. "As a professor I should at least be present at the head table, don't you agree? And I'm late already." He didn't feel like talking much to Sirius, not after what he said. He could be so hot headed, it was unbelievable. "I'll be sure to bring you something to eat within the hour, alright? Get some more sleep."
"I don't need any," Sirius insisted, standing from his mess of blankets and wrapping the robe tightly around himself like he were cold.
"Yes, you do. You're of no use to anyone if you're half asleep. And you can't leave this room at all today, Animagus or otherwise. With the Ministry about, Auror's or not, you can't take the risk." He found what he was looking for, this years addition of the DADA manual. Lupin thought Professor Dorrey would have one of these laying around somewhere. He put the book under his arm and walked steadily to the door, not pausing to take even a glance at Sirius. "I'll see you later--"
"Remus, I'm sorry about what I said..."
This made Lupin stop just as he reached out for the door handle, his hand stalling just above it. You know it meant something when Sirius Black apologized for his own (irrational) behavior. It just wasn't his 'thing'. Lupin didn't look back yet when he asked, "Are you...?"
"Yes. Look, I hate Snape, I really do-you know I do... Not even a Wizard Bond can change that..." Lupin was about to comment on this, but Sirius continued, "But... Since I don't have a choice in the matter... I'll...," He was straining with the words, now, "I'll try to be civil to him... okay?"
Lupin could help but laugh, look back at Sirius now. "Civil? My goodness, Padfoot, that's above and beyond your usual standards."
Sirius shrugged, looking annoyed. "I suppose I can't break this bond, can I...?" Lupin shook his head in response, and Sirius let out an agonized moan. "At least I'm not alone in this... With you and James..." Then he crossed his arms, face set. "Well, if he can set it aside just a little, than I can, at least a little... It'll do me no good if I let that pompous git get the best of me, is there?"
Lupin just shook his head, sighing. "I'll see you, Padfoot."
"I'll be waiting right here, Moony."
"Oh," Lupin stopped, a second thought.... "There's a book over there on the table, "Magic From The Dawn Of Time". You ought to try reading it sometime..."
Then with a small smile, Lupin closed the door behind him...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
James had been given a set of robes to wear, like he had the day before. But unlike the robes he wore yesterday, these robes didn't have the seal of Gryffindor embroidered onto the front, the sweater vest was solid gray, and his tie was black.
The color of mourning...
He sighed as he adjusted the tie, eyes starring forward into the mirror set on his nightstand. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tied a tie, but it seemed like so long ago... The color was a horrible reminder of what he'd lost only days ago...
"Madame Pomfrey, when will the Ministry arrive...?"
Madame Pomfrey looked up from the towels she was folding, thinking for a moment. "I was told they should be here in few hours... After breakfast, I believe." Then she asked, "Is there anything you need, Mr. Potter?"
"No... no, thank you. I was just wondering." He was also wondering what questions they would be asking him, if any... Would they want to know how he had been brought down in his fight with Voldemort? How he was blinded by smoke...? How the Dark Lord's first shot had shattered both his wand and his wrist? Or how he got a gash on the side of his head when he dropped to the floor...? Of course they would need some sort of confirmation of what was in the Pensive... "I don't think I'll be needing anything else. Thank you for these clothes..."
Madame Pomfrey nodded, smiling kindly. "I just need to drop a few of these off in the next room. Will you be alright?"
James let out a small laugh. "I'm certainly capable by myself, Pomfrey, really. I am a grown man."
She nodded again. "Of course." Then she swept from the room, a stack of towels in her arms. Madame Pomfrey would forever be a mother hen to her patents, even though he felt perfectly well. Hm... She hadn't changed a bit after all these years.
James starred after her, then looked back at his reflection in the mirror. He frowned, bringing up a hand to his hair... It was a bloody mess, as usual. He wasn't at all surprised that Harry happened to inherit his rather wild and utterly frustrating hairstyle...
There was the sound of rustling behind him, then the sound of a bed screen being moved along the stone floor. "Stop primping yourself, Potter, it's sickening."
James nearly jumped out of his skin and he spin around, gapping. "Severus?!" Sure enough, it was Severus Snape! He was sitting in a bed in the far corner of the room (stashed away, the poor fellow...), dressed in pajama pants and an open shirt, his chest wrapped thickly with bandages. His scowl hadn't changed at all...
Snape rolled his eyes at James' shocked expression, grunting as he straightened his back. "Surprised?"
"I had no idea you where here," James admitted, feeling like an complete and total idiot (Of course he shouldn't tell Snape that, he'd probably agree...). But he also wondered how Snape managed to stay there the whole time without making a sound...
"As aware as ever, it seems," Snape muttered dryly, carefully getting to his feet and reaching for the robe laying across a chair, which was also behind the screen with him. He picked in up and started putting it on, his eyes on James the whole time. He made a face. "Stop starring at me like that. It's not like I came back from the dead."
That last comment snapped James back into reality, and his crossed his arms, frowning. "As good natured as always, are you, Severus?"
"Indeed."
Then James remembered something Lupin told him yesterday...
/James was have a wonderful time talking to Lupin, discovering new things about his son. It was about fifteen minutes into the conversation when Severus Snape was brought up. How he was the Potions Master at Hogwarts. About... other things... "He's been protecting Harry for a long time now."
James was a little more than shocked about this. "Harry...? Really?" Lupin nodded. "But why? He's always hated me-"
"I can't be sure, James, but you know... I suppose it was his way of trying to make up for his "debt" to you... You were gone, and he never had a chance to pay you back... did he?"
"I guess not..."
"But don't worry." Lupin smiled. "Honestly, he's not as bad as he seems. He's sacrificed a lot for our cause... We're all still fight it, James. Severus may not be the kindest soul, but he's one of "us" one way of another..."/
James was silence for a minute, as was Snape (he however seemed happier that way), but he finally said. "I wanted to thank you, you know..."
Snape gave him a look, snorting. "Thank me? Why ever should you do that? Hm?"
Oh second thought, maybe another time... Snape was never the easiest person to talk to. "... never mind, Severus..."
"No, I would really like to know. After all, you've already thanked be enough already." He gestured to his bandaged wound.
James winced, though not completely sure of what he meant. But there seemed to be only one logical thing to say, so he said it. "I'm sorry..."
Snape huffed. "You're sorry? Oh, I suppose I should think that a simple 'I'm sorry' will fix things? Will all that you 'been through' you certainly haven't changed at all."
James couldn't help but feel a little guilty, but also very annoyed. "And you obviously haven't changed, either. Still moaning over something that happened... what...? How long has it been? Over seventeen years ago?"
Snape's eye twitched at this. "Even after saving your life nothing has changed," he hissed. "After all these years, I'm still chained to you, Potter. I really can't see why my debt hasn't been paid, after looking after your pathetic son all this time." James froze at the mention of his son, and Snape seemed to take his reaction as encouragement, smirking. "And you nearly took my life before. I knew you weren't really all that you seemed, though you probably wanted to keep it that way, didn't you? Showing your true colors at last, Potter?"
/"You're one of them, too? I should've known... You of all people.." Snape hated him, of course he did. Snape wanted him dead, he had too. He always had.
'Kill him...'
'Kill him before he kills you first...'
'He's a Death Eater...'/
James shook his head sharply, images flashing in his head. Memories of resent events that had somehow buried themselves. He wanted to forget again... "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered defensively. Snape was just trying to mess with his head, like he always used to. But then again, it had never worked before... Why can't he keep a cool head now...? 'Dammit, why can't I fight back!?'
Snape's eyes shot wide, flashed his anger. "You forget easily, do you," he asked, deadly calm. "Then I suppose you don't remember how I got this?" He gestured to the bandages that almost completely covered his up and lower torso. The bandages were a little pink around the middle from....
/He didn't need a wand to hurt Snape.../
James took a step back, the memories of his own malicious thoughts making his feel disgusted... Did he really think that... before...
/Prongs, blood, yelling, screaming.../
"I... can't remember." 'No, I just don't want to remember... Why is this coming back now...?'
Snape looked at him suspiciously, standing a little straighter than he had, appearing both victorious and cautious. To think, after all these years, Snape didn't hate him any less. "You really don't remember, do you?" He didn't sound convinced in the slightest. "If that's true, you could just snap again at any moment, couldn't you? Would you remember that at all, hm? You could hurt someone like you did me. Like you did your little friends..."
/"Stop it, James!"
"JAMES!"
"Stupefy! STUPEFY!!"
"I'll kill them," James shrieked, struggling. "Let me go!! I'll kill you for what you've done!! I'LL KILL YOU...!!"/
James took a sharp intake of breath, feeling a wave as nausea and his head was starting to ache dully. Snape kept talking.
"You're still dangerous, Potter. I know you are, even if everyone else is too blind to see it." For a moment his tone was very serious and not spiteful, taunting, or trying the hurt. He was just using the truth, or what he definitely believed to be the truth. "Once you realize it, then maybe you can do something to stop it before someone gets killed. You don't want blood on you hands, do you?"
"Couldn't..." He took another step back, bumping into the edge of his bed. Since he couldn't be back anymore, he sat down on the bed edge, starring blankly forward. "I couldn't ever hurt anyone like that, I couldn't..."
/"Get off me, Potter!! Get ack!" Snape struggled, trying to escape from the hands wrapped tightly around his throat. He gasped for air.
James couldn't help but feel satisfied, seeing Snape choking to death.
He thought of trying to break Snape's neck.../
"It wasn't me, it wasn't me!"
Snape was looked immensely ticked off now. "Of course it was you! Don't you see it, Potter!? You're the danger here! You, and only you! Wake-up and realize that fact already!"
"No..." 'No, that couldn't be right... It couldn't... It couldn't...'
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mirror on the nightstand. But in the mirror wasn't his own reflection, but the women, the familiar stranger from his dreams... Smiling...
The thing wearing Lily's face...
James hardly noticed as the world begin to black out around him.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Snape couldn't explain it, but even as he stood facing James, the air around his shifted... It was odd and difficult to explain, but it grew colder in the room and something in Potter's eyes grew colder along with it...
He didn't even know why he started screaming at Potter in the first place. Maybe it was the fourteen years he'd been bound to him, even after his supposed "death". Having that weight on his shoulders. Maybe it was the opportunity to actually "kick" Potter while he was down, watching him squirm. But one way or another, using the "truth" was the greatest weapon of all. James Potter couldn't hide from his own crimes, just like Snape couldn't hide from his own. Potter had to face reality, realize what he's done, realize the danger he poses for everyone around him. If he were to have another episode like before...
Snape was about to say something else, seeing as James had been sitting there in silence for too long, but then suddenly James beat him to it, mumbling something Snape couldn't quite make out.
Snape frowned. "What?" He watched Potter, whose eyes lay on his nightstand. He touched the wooden surface as though expecting something to be there. "What did you say," Snape asked, not bothering to hide his impatience.
"Wand," Potter repeated, mumbling still, but this time Snape could make it out. "Where is my wand...?" Potter's eyes narrowed, but a crooked smirk appeared on his lips. "You took it away, didn't you?"
Snape's own eyes narrowed as he watched Potter closely, suddenly very wary of the man. But could he possibly do to harm him now? "No," Snape said acidly, "I didn't." He thought for a moment, then said matter-of-factually, "I imagine one of your friends were smart enough to take away your only means of harming anyone."
Potter didn't even flinch this time, and he stood up from his bed. "I would hardly say it my only means of harming... anyone." He took a step toward Snape, who didn't move a muscle. "Ollivander... Mr. Ollivander gave it to me as a present, you see..."
Another step forward, yet still Snape didn't move. But he felt even colder than before. Was Potter using some sort of magic on him...?
"I would so hate for something to happen to it..." Potter tilted his head to the side, his face emotionless yet curious. "You still hate me like always, don't you Severus? Always so cold, so nasty, so mean..." Potter sneered, and by now he was directly in Snape's face.
Snape was almost, almost, surprised. He'd never seen such an expression on Potter's face before. And, quite frankly, he was certainly acting very much like a Slytherin for some reason... But of course, Snape was the head of the Slytherin house....
"If you're trying to insult me," Snape said smoothly, "you are far from it." He had heard much worse come from the mouths of his students. Then Snape waited for Potter to say something, to make a comeback, to defend himself like he always used to.
But James Potter did something very unexpected.
For a moment Potter's teeth were gritted, he snarled, looking hurt and as though he might burst into tears (if he actually did this, Snape was sure he wouldn't be able to keep himself from laughing). Then all that faded away, and he smiled.... A cheerful, yet... evil (?) expression that sent a shiver down Snape's spine.
"I will work on it, then," he said.
Then, before Snape had a chance to say anything, James had turned and ran from the room, narrowly missing Madame Pomfrey as she was coming in through the doorway. She gasped in shock and barely got out of the way in time, clutching a number of potion vials to her chest so they wouldn't crash to the floor. "Mr. Potter!? Mr. Potter! Come back!"
Snape just starred after him, plainly shocked (though he wouldn't admit that out loud). Maybe it was his fault that Potter ran off, but he certainly didn't regret anything that he had said.... Perhaps James Potter had indeed gone mad again...?
"What's happened here!? Where did Mr. Potter go!?" Madame Pomfrey was yelling frantically, but Snape wasn't listening. He just starred off after the other man, his eyes now narrowed viciously.
"Bound" or not, he wished nothing but misfortune to befall James Potter....
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The screaming was back.
The pain was back.
Lily was back... She was there , always. But not his Lily.... That Lily in his dreams, whispering to him, flashing a smile that never reached her eyes, eyes that be could recognize as truly hers anymore... It was so painful now.... But even so, to James, it was like a dream. A nightmare that would always come back to haunt him.
Laughter...
Screaming....
"You're own hell, boy, you're own hell, boy, you're own hell, boy..."
But at least, it's all going to go away... At last...
Laughter...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Yesterday, though no one hardly noticed, the owls hadn't delivered all their mail. Most of the mail had been postponed, due to rain as well as other reasons which they were sure to find out about that day...
When the owls came into the Great Hall that morning, Hermione was the only one of the three of them to get any mail. She received a letter from her parents, as well as a two new copies of the Daily Prophet (one dated for yesterday, and the other dated that Sunday).
Not to anyone's surprise, almost every article had something to do with the Dementor attacks from the day before last, as well as a mystery within the Ministry itself, which surrounded one person who has yet to be identified (only Harry, Ron and Hermione knew of all this already). It also told of an attack on a group of Ministry officials who had been attacked by a mysterious group... Dumbledore had told the school about most of this yesterday during dinner, and it didn't rest well with most of the students. Nearly everyone lost their appetites...
Harry was half afraid to see something written by Rita Skeeter once the whole truth came out, but hopefully Hermione's little piece of blackmail would keep her in line... More than once in the articles did Harry see mentions of Lord Voldemort and Death Eaters in relation to the Dementors... 'Wonder how much that's going to scare people...?'
Mr. Ollivander was mentioned, almost, as a witness to seeing the man the Ministry had been searching for. Mr. Ollivander as referred to as "the owner at a small wand shop of the London Underground" (Mr. Ollivander might have preferred his real name were mentioned... for publicity reasons, of course).
While Hermione continued to scan through her paper (and at times reading aloud certain points she found interesting) Harry ate and Ron read over her shoulder. Hermione wasn't the only one with that particular copy of the Daily Prophet; every house table in the Great Hall had at least one person reading it. The Ravenclaws found it fascinating. Harry, frankly, was sick and tired of hearing about the whole incident. It made his stomach tighten and he would get goosebumps. He was well aware of how frightening a Dementor could be, but to have an all out attack like that on a populated area.... It was a sign of things to come.
"It sorta creepy, you know?" Dean said quietly to Harry. "I mean, do you really think it has anything to do with You-Know-Who...?"
Harry didn't say anything, and only shrugged, shooting a quick glance to Hermione and Ron, who sat opposite from him. He knew that it had to be Voldemort, but he didn't want to frighten his friend or anyone else... After all, most of them thought he as crazy when it came to his "scar pains".
"Who do you suppose this guy is," someone along the table asked. Harry looked and found it had been Ginny, who was looking at a copy of the Daily Prophet as well.
Lee Jordan was sitting next to Fred, talking excitedly to both him and George. "He might be someone new, you think?"
"Yeah," Dean said, "I mean, you don't have the same criminals over and over again, right? It would just get bloody boring, wouldn't it?"
Seamus rolled his eyes. "Dean, this isn't a Muggle TV show, you know."
"Do you think he's dangerous, whoever he is," another Gryffindor fourth year, Natalie MacDonald, asked Ginny, looking a little nervous. "Wasn't your brother attacked...?"
Ginny nodded weakly, looking down at her plate sadly. "My brother... He was a part of the group that was attacked... Cave in... But he's fine now, honestly."
At hearing this, Hermione froze, her eyes on Ron. Harry had done the same, his fork dropping from his hand and hitting the table with a loud clank!
"You're brother was attacked," Hermione cried, horrified. "When?!"
"You never told us," Harry added, equally rattled by this fact.
"Is he alright?"
"What happened?"
Ron had turned as red as his hair, though looked a little elevated when he saw that all attention had been turned to him (well, and the rest of the Weasley's sitting at the table...). He liked the attention, but this wasn't the sort of attention he wanted with such a subject... "Ah, er, Charlie... was hurt when he was at the Ministry... I think he was just trying to visit Dad after he came back from Romania for a little vacation, and with all that going on..."
"Dad was out there, too," George added to the people around him when Ron trailed off.
"He's alright, though," Fred continued gravely.
"They both are."
"It takes a lot more to bring down a Weasley!" Fred gave Ginny an encouraging pat on the back; she was still looking down at her plate as though she were about the cry. Then he suddenly corrected himself. "Well, maybe besides their mother, anyway..." This comment elected a chuckled or two from the table, and made Ginny giggle as well, smiling thankfully.
While the conversation continued for others, Harry was still starring at Ron. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Ron shifted uneasily in his seat, his eyes darting uneasily from Harry to Hermione, who looked like she was about to cry even more so that Ginny would have. "A lot was going on, you know? Last night, I got a letter from mum... ('So that's what the letter was...') I didn't want it to get in the way of anything--"
"Get in the way of nothing," Harry said, a little sharply. "You're family is just as important as mine-as anyone's!"
Hermione had placed a hand on Ron's back and was rubbing in a way that looked comforting, looking up at him worriedly. "Are you sure you're okay...?"
Ron was probably the only one to notice that Ron had grown a little redder, a smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. "Y-Yeah, I mean... Charlie's just fine, Mum said so and all... I didn't think you guys would..." He trailed off uncertainly, his eyes never really leaving Hermione.
Harry was feeling like the cruelest person on the planet. All that time, carrying on about his own family troubles, and Ron had some of his own all along... "Don't keep anything like that from me just for my sack, Ron. Man, I can't believe it..." Mr. Weasley and Charlie... They could've died... How could Ron be so calm about it!?
"Don't worry," Ron said again, smiling this time at Harry, looking away from Hermione for the first time. "Like Fred said, it takes a lot to take down a Weasley!"
There was a long pause, then a question asked from further down the table. "Do you think it's Sirius Black?"
"Aaaah, don't be daft," commented Katie Bell.
"They would just say so if it was," Seamus agreed. "Besides, they haven't heard from Black since he was here a few years ago, right? It couldn't be him! Maybe they don't even know?"
This resulted in a stream of low murmurs along the length of the table...
"Hey, look at this!" It was Dean, who had gotten a hold or Hermione's newspaper after she'd set it down. "The Ministry is supposedly sending some people over tomorrow... Why would they be doing something like that?"
Harry, Hermione and Ron all exchanged worried glances. They didn't like the sound of that, and they certainly hadn't hear about any Ministry people coming to Hogwarts from Dumbledore or anyone else...
Neville gulped down his porridge, looking suddenly jittery, his eyes widening. "You don't suppose that means that whoever it is... They're in this school...?"
Again, another steam of murmurs along the table, louder this time and more excited, and Harry, Ron and Hermione all exchanged worried glances. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables had gotten in on the action as well, and some had come over to stand, adding to the conversation. Harry couldn't help but spot Cho Chang (along with Ravenclaws Su Li and Terry Boot and Hufflepuff Mandy Brocklehurst) down at the end of the table near Ginny.
Justin Finch-Fletchley was now standing with Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein and Wayne Hopkins, who had come from the Hufflepuff table a moment ago. He was the first to directly comment Neville, saying, "That may be. And there was a lot going on yesterday, right? Anyone could've slipped into the castle unnoticed, Sirius Black or not!"
"But it's not Sirius Black," Harry said flatly, trying to hide the defensiveness in his tone.
Orla Quirke of Ravenclaw asked quietly, "Then who, do you suppose?"
Neville jumped in his seat as a thought came to mind, "Do you think it's Professor Lupin?!"
"No way," Ron and Harry both said loudly, causing many pairs of eyes to be directed toward them again. Ron continued, "He was helping Snape and Hagrid with those Skrewts, remember? He couldn't have!" There was a mumbling of agreement along the table. Hermione was no longer interested in the conversation, and once again picked up for book, "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5", starting where she left off the day before.
This was getting complicated... Too many people talking, too many houses coming into this. And the Ravenclaws were making a debate out of what had started as light conversation... Harry wondered if the Headmaster would say anything to stop this. He glanced up at the faculty table, where Hagrid sat with his hands covered in bandages, and one Potions Master's seat stood empty. Snape was still in the Hospital Wing, and Professor Lupin had already taken up the same seat he had two years ago. He and McGonagall were talking quietly. No one was terribly shocked about his return, some where more than thrilled, but there were many who were less than thrilled...
Lost in thought, Harry was barely paying attention to the continuing debate.
"Okay, it's no Sirius Black," they had agreed.
"Who do you suppose it is then, huh?"
"Oh," came a snide, drawling voice from just behind Ron and Hermione, "he might just be right under your noses..."
Harry looked up sharply, startled, and immediately made a face. "Malfoy..." Sure enough, it was Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
A few other Slytherins had come as well along the table, some even joining in with the discussion. Harry hadn't noticed before, but had never really thought Slytherins were the types to join in on debates with other houses, but he must've been wrong. They seemed to be getting along... Well, at least with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. But unlike his other housemates, Draco looked like he had other plans, eyes set on Harry.
This didn't look good. "What do you want, Malfoy?" said Harry impatiently.
Draco only sneered, his eyes narrowing viciously as he ignored Harry's question. "But you probably know, don't you, Potter?"
Harry had to admit, he was nervous now, his hand itching to grab for his wand, just in case. He had a bad feeling that was eating at his gut...
"What are you talking about," Ron demanded, turning in his seat to glare up at the other boy. Even Hermione had set down her book and was looking at Draco, but the boy was totally ignoring both of them.
"My father had a few interesting things to tell me, Potter." He waved an opened letter in his hand, no doubt the said letter from Draco's father. "Tell me, are you sure it's such a mystery as to who this man is...?"
Hermione shot Harry a wary glance, looking almost frightened while Ron just glared up at the pale boy. his teeth clinched and hands balled into fists. Harry could feel blood rushing to his face, his gut knotting. 'Malfoy knew... he knew... And his father... How?'
"I heard you know him rather... well..." Draco continued, snickering (Crabbe and Goyle chuckled dumbly along with him, not really knowing why).
Harry hated that Draco was just standing there, watching him sweat... Many people were watching them now, attentively, wondering what was going on. Harry had by this time moved his hands under that table and got his wand from his pocket without anyone noticing.
Then Draco leaned over into the table, smirking wickedly. He whispered so that Harry had to strain to hear (but at least no one else would), "Another piece of Potter filth," he spat. "But I heard his mind's snapped like a twig, isn't that right, Potter? All the better--"
Harry couldn't explain it, but it was as though something in the back of his mind snapped, just as Draco has described his father, and the next thing he knew Harry stood and grabbed the collar of Draco's shirt with his left hand, his wand in his right. In one quick motion he could--
"STUDENTS!!"
Startled by the booming voice, Harry and everyone else in the room looked all at once to the head table, where Dumbledore and a number of other teachers now stood (Professor Lupin, McGonagall and Hagrid included). Dumbledore's eyes looked very cold and serious for a moment before softening only a little. He then said, "That is enough chatting for now. This is a time to eat--At your respective tables, please. I am afraid the Gryffindor table is not suitable to accommodate each of you. If you will please return to your seats."
During the time that Dumbledore spoke, it was as if everyone in the room hadn't moved an inch, as though in a frozen trance. But once he had stopped speaking, there was a moments pause before things started into motion again.
Even though Harry wished he could teach Draco a lesson, he knew better. He let go of Draco with a hard jerk that made the pale boy stumble before righting himself. Harry finally noticed that Draco had his wand already in his hand as well (maybe it was best that Dumbledore spoke up when he did)... His usually porcelain smooth, white face was scrunched up with suppressed rage, his shoulders shaking. Draco didn't need to say anything, the venom in that gaze was enough... Crabbe and Goyle hadn't moved an inch the whole time (their minds were probably too slow to process what was happening quickly enough). The only moved when Draco signaled them to follow as he stalked back toward the Slytherin table along with his other housemates, some of which where shooting glances at both Harry and Draco.
Ron kept a close eye on Draco as he left. He'd stood up from his seat at the same time Harry grabbed for Draco, while Hermione just starred on in shock, as did many others around them. Very few had ever seen Harry quite that truly angry... And certainly not angry enough to be pushed to violence like that.
When Harry looked up, he also noticed that Professor Lupin was looking down at him, his face unreadable, while Professor McGonagall looked on with a very tense expression. Hagrid's gaze was carefully locked on Draco, his black eyes watching the Slytherin carefully, suspicion written all over his face. Dumbledore didn't look at him at all, and somehow that didn't feel right, like the man was disappointed in him...
"Harry?" Ron sounded as worried as Hermione looked. Those who had been watching him around the table had grown quiet and didn't meet his gaze. But obviously, Harry had been the only one to catch whatever Draco said, luckily... "Don't let that big prat get to you, okay?"
Harry shivered, a strange feeling coming over him. "Dejà vu"... "I won't Ron. Sorry, Hermione..."
"Are you okay," Hermione asked gently, as though she were speaking to a small child.
"Yes."
"You don't look okay."
"I am..."
No he wasn't, really, but luckily neither of his friends asked anything else of him. Soon the rest of the table was talking again, even Ron and Hermione begin to chat, but Harry didn't say a word.
He felt very cold, like his veins had bits of ice running though them... It was that strange feeling of "dejà vu" he had the day his father came that Halloween. Did that mean something...? Was it because the Ministry was coming, or that Draco knew about his father...? Or did he...? Could he be bluffing somehow...?
Harry only knew one thing for certain.
Bad things were coming.... fast...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
It had been humming to itself as it went along. Time for a change of pace, for sure... Time to move on a little, to something new and different. There was so much it could explore now.
It could sense something in the air now; it came in like a tide, them moved away, only to come back again a little bigger, a little stronger. Coming at last...
'... The storm...'
Heehee, play time...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
To be continued...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Well...? Too complicated? Too detailed? What?
Sorry about the switching in POV. Lots of things are happening to lots of people, you know? But what do you think? And sorry for the little H/Hr hints and moments, if you guys don't like it, that is. I won't tell you which couples are the real ones, you're going to have to find out for yourself!
Please REVIEW if you can!
Geuna~
NOTE: Wizard Bonds ~ James ~ Sirius ~ Lupin ~ Snape ~ (in order of occurrence)
Snape became bound to James when he saved him from Lupin's werewolf form years ago.
James may have became bound to Snape when he stopped Lucius from attacking him, but this is uncertain. Lucius wasn't the one that was really going to kill James in the first place, though he was going to leave James to the Dementors... (Found (Part 1))
James and (inadvertently) Snape became bound to Sirius when he attacked the Dementors in his Animagus form, distracting and affectivity stopping them from performing the Kiss on either of them. (Found (Part 2))
Snape, Sirius and James became bound to Lupin when Lupin used his Patronus to stop the Dementors from attacking. (Found (Part 2))
Sirius became bound to Snape when he saved Sirius from being left behind and crushed by the collapsing stone passage. (revealed in Reunions: The Road To Truly Awakening (Part 1 of 3))
Once way or another, all four of them are bound to someone... Tell me what you think about this, I could really use some help.
My one question, though. Can a bond really last, even in death? In this story, perhaps Snape's bond with James lasted because James never really died. But in the HP books by Rowling, is this also true? James may not be as dead as we think....
Geuna~