Chapter 15

The Secret Life Of Professor Nevins

A sharp wind stung the side of Harry's face as he made his way to Hagrid's cabin on Christmas Day. The hut had never seemed so far away as it did to Harry on this occasion and he was never more glad to enter the cabin than when a rosy-cheeked Hagrid opened the door and let him in.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" said Hagrid, clapping him hard on the back.

"Happy Christmas, Hagrid," Harry replied, sitting near the fire and letting it warm his hands and face. "Thanks for the – er – "

"The bonglewhompers?" asked Hagrid.

"Er, well, is that what they were, I wondered, actually, er, am I supposed to eat them?"

"Heavens, no!" cried Hagrid. "They're not fer yeh at all."

Harry looked puzzled.

"Yeh see, I still haven' givin' yeh yeh real gift yet."

"Oh?" said Harry, trying to sound curious rather than alarmed.

Hagrid smiled and winked. He waved away Fang, who wore a red bow around his neck, and reached under his table for a small package. Harry took the package from Hagrid and frowned in alarm as he felt something move inside. He smiled weakly at Hagrid and tapped his wand on the outside of the box. The wrapping opened and a bright orange ball of fur jumped out into his arms. Harry recognized in horror that it was one of Beethoven's puppies.

"Meet Snitch!"

"Snitch?"

"Yeah, Snitch, yeh know, Quidditch and all."

"I know, Hagrid."

"Well, I had to name him somethin', I mean, I had to get him into that box an' all, didn't I?"

"Er, thanks, Hagrid," Harry tried to say but his words were drowned out when Snitch trumpeted shrilly in his hands. He thought seriously of trying to give him back to Hagrid and was just thinking of how to say so without hurting his feelings when Snitch fixed him with a sudden longing, almost mournful expression from his large black eyes.

"Aw, look," said Hagrid, watching Snitch. "He knows yeh his new master. Here, go on, give him a bonglewhomper. I've got a few here, somewhere." Hagrid moved a poisonous-looking weed killer from one of his tables and grabbed a few small white balls that looked like little Easter eggs. Harry held them up carefully in his hand where Snitch eyed them eagerly.

"Go on, he won' hurt yeh," said Hagrid.

Harry took one of the bonglewhompers between his tips of his fingers and slowly moved it closer to Snitch. His hand was about half an inch away when Snitch reached out with his trunk and grabbed onto both the bonglewhomper and Harry's finger. Harry felt Snitch sucking his finger in but it didn't hurt.

"He'll learn after a time. They all do. Go on, feed him another."

Harry took another bonglewhomper from Hagrid and fed it to Snitch who continued to look expectantly at him. He was about to give him yet another when Hagrid said.

"That's enough fer him; they don' know what's good for 'em, the young'uns. Just two at each meal time and he'll be fine."

"But Hagrid," said Harry, looking a little hopeful. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave, er, Snitch here for your safekeeping. We're only allowed to keep an owl, a cat, or a toad with us in the castle."

Hagrid raised a triumphant finger and Harry's face fell. "Ah! Don' yeh worry about that. I got yeh special permission from Professor McGonagall on account of he'll keep yeh safe see. Anyone unwelcome about he'll holla and holla till they go away. Ain' no better animal for givin' yeh a warnin', except maybe Fang o' course."

Fang brushed up against Hagrid's beard and slobbered his appreciation.

"Er, well, thanks, Hagrid," said Harry, as Snitch shrieked again no doubt in protest that he was no longer being fed. "I – I'm sure he'll come in handy." He put Snitch down on the table in front of Hagrid and tried to ignore his screams.

Eventually, Snitch stopped screaming and appeared to fall asleep from exhaustion. Harry and Hagrid kept talking and Harry sampled some of Hagrid's Christmas pudding which was badly charred when Hagrid tried unsuccessfully to light it with his umbrella.

"Must have been a bit lavish with the fire whisky."

Harry quickly stuffed his piece under a chair in the corner while Hagrid's attention was briefly distracted by Fang.

After they had finished the Christmas pudding, it was nearly time for Hagrid and Harry to make their way up to the castle for the feast. The conversation had slowed somewhat when Hagrid suddenly sighed deeply.

"'Spect it's been a bit lonely fer yeh this holiday, up in the castle."

"A bit," Harry admitted. "It's the first Christmas I've spent without Ron. But it's not that bad," he added. "I – I've developed a whole new strategy for the Quidditch team for next term. I think we've got at least a fair chance of winning the Cup." He looked searchingly at Hagrid, wondering what had made him ask that question. "I – is – how is, er, Grawp doing?" he asked.

"Oh, fine, fine, much calmer now, as you can see." Hagrid pointed to his face which Harry could see was free of the blows and scars Hagrid had worn most of his previous year. "Olympe's been helpin' out, too, apparates in from France quite a bit; fine lady," he added almost wistfully. "F – fine lady."

"Er, well, that's good," said Harry, still wondering why Hagrid had started to sound so somber.

There was another slightly awkward moment of silence before Hagrid frowned and said:

"Listen, Harry. There's somethin' I wanted to say to yeh. Well." He looked down at the sleeping Snitch. "Ron 'n Hermione are together now, o' course, an' I know yeh wish 'em all the best an' o' course I do an' all as well but yeh know… well, it's like this, Harry, after yeh did in Yeh-Know-Who, the first time, well, when he was around no one had time to think, like; they just had to stop him, didn't they? But after he was gone, a lot o' people got to thinkin' about all the people they lost, about the things they could'uh done differently, like, an' they couldn't rightly do much of anythin' or they did things but they was never themselves really. They could'uh let all their pain out, see, but they kept it all in."

Harry could now see that this had something to do with Sirius although he couldn't see why Hagrid had started talking about it now. He certainly didn't want to argue with Hagrid but he also wished very much he would stop talking about it. He tried his best to keep his expression neutral and hoped that Hagrid would stop before he managed to make his way to the main point.

"Well, yeh know, Harry," Hagrid went on. "All I'm really sayin' is just – just don' get to, well, keepin' things all to yourself now. Yeh got to – got to, well, yeh know, yeh got to share yourself, yeh know, both the good things and the bad, with, well, with someone – or, well, some people." Hagrid looked up at Harry and smiled weakly as if realizing that he had ended on an especially unconvincing note.

"I do share things with other people, Hagrid," said Harry, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. "Ron and Hermione a – and, well, you."

Somehow Harry found that this didn't sound very believable, however, even to himself.

"Course yeh do, course yeh do," echoed Hagrid, looking as though he wanted to end the conversation almost as badly as Harry did. "'S nothin' really, I, er, well, I was just thinkin' o' some people who just never, well, who were too, well, take feh instance Professor Nevins." Hagrid's face fell suddenly. "No, no, never mind, I shouldn't've said that. I forgot yeh didn't – no, never mind."

Hagrid shook his head but it was already too late.

"Forgot I didn't what, Hagrid?" asked Harry, suddenly finding himself much more interested in the conversation.

"Never mind, never mind. Forget I said anything. No business of mine – or anyone's," he added looking meaningfully at Harry.

But Harry was not going to be put off so easily. "Hagrid, do you know how Professor Nevins received the Order of Merlin?"

"No, no, I wouldn't know anything about that at all," replied Hagrid unconvincingly. "That's somethin' Professor Nevins will tell you if and when he's ready."

"Why would he tell me?"

"You?" said Hagrid, trying to conceal the thunderstruck expression on his face. "No, can' think o' why he would tell you. I – I meant tell anyone…. Anyhow," he slapped Harry hard on the back, causing him to fall off his stool. "How did we get onto all this doom and gloom, eh? It's Christmas! How about another piece o' Christmas puddin' to warm yeh up, eh?"

Harry tried to smile but he could not help but wonder what Hagrid had really been trying to tell him. What was it about Professor Nevins he was so anxious for Harry not to find out, and what did it have to do with him?

Christmas holidays seemed to come to an end far too early for Harry's liking. It was true that he missed Ron and Hermione very much, despite their frequent owl cards, in which all of their pre-Christmas disagreements seemed to have been diplomatically forgotten and they had tried to convince him – unsuccessfully – that they were not having the time of their lives. Nevertheless, Harry had enjoyed the time off with no lessons and they had received far less work during the holidays this year than in their previous O.W.L. year. He had been truthful to Hagrid when he had told him that, in the absence of his regular lessons, he had been able to devote a great deal of time to devising a plan to help Gryffindor win the Quidditch cup and he was eager to try out his plan on the team. On more than one occasion, however, it frightened Harry how closely he seemed to equal the obsessive spirit of his former captain and mentor Oliver Wood.

There was another reason Harry was dreading the return of school, however, and that concerned Ginny Weasley. The truth was that the recorded faces of the Weird Sisters had looked at Harry through the fireplace many times that Christmas holiday as he sat down alone in the common room pouring over his strategies for Quidditch. But as the break got nearer to an end, Harry felt more and more guilty at listening to the recording and finally stuffed the parchment high up in his wardrobe where he hoped he would not be easily tempted to reach it.

The source of Harry's guilt was not the quality of the present, which he had enjoyed very much, but his misgivings about the manner in which it was given. In the time Harry had spent by himself during the holidays, he had thought very honestly about his friendship with Ginny. And the more he thought about it, the more Harry decided that whether or not Ron knew anything about it, Ginny still had some kind of crush on him. This wasn't the first time he had thought about this, of course. Ron had all but told him that Ginny fancied him the first year she came to Hogwarts and then, of course, Harry had gone and saved her life, which had only made things worse. And then there was the way she would stop talking and stare whenever he came near her.

And then, one day, she had started to talk. He hadn't thought much about why at the time but when Hermione had told he and Ron that Ginny had been going out with Michael Corner, it had all seemed to fit. And Harry had become convinced that he would have one less thing to worry about, which could only be for the better.

But now Ginny had broken up with Michael and then Dean. And now that Harry stopped to think about it, she had not seemed anxious to start a relationship with anyone new, either, as if her relationships with other boys were just a passing faze. But she was also still by no means as speechless around him as she had been before. If Ginny really did have feelings for him again, Harry knew that he wasn't going to be able to avoid them as easily now. Before long, Harry realized with a particularly sickening feeling, Ginny was bound to try and say something about her feelings to him. On more than one occasion during the holidays, Harry had been seized by the horrible image of Ginny cornering him in the common room singing "his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad" while Fred and George sniggered and Ron looked on, impatiently awaiting his encouraging response.

The Valentine. If only he hadn't asked her about that. Why had he asked her? Why had he cared? Wasn't it obvious to anyone but a pea-brained troll that she had sent it to him? Was he so vain that he wanted to hear her tell him? Whatever the case, Harry realized that he had unwittingly given her some encouragement that cursed night of the ball. He had tried to back out of it the next morning but she obviously hadn't taken the hint. She must have started to study with them so that she could get nearer him. It was obvious now that Harry thought about it. And then she had given him the Christmas gift and as difficult as it was for Harry to understand anything girls thought, he was sure that the hug they had shared on the train platform had meant much more to her than a simple expression of friendship. And he had not discouraged her then either.

Harry was certain he did not want to hurt Ginny's feelings and he still desperately hoped that her feelings for him would change or go away but he also faced the fact that this now seemed very unlikely. And since Harry was sure he had spent most of the year fueling Ginny's crush with both the things he had said and the things he had left unsaid, it was his duty to let her down as gently as he could and explain to her that while he enjoyed the time they spent together, he was not interested in a romantic friendship.

And so Harry steeled himself for the conversation with Ginny. He practiced in front of the mirror so many times that it finally said back to him: "Well, no, dear, no more do I." He rehearsed to himself the conversation he would have with Ginny all the way to the train depot like he was practicing lines for a play. But when the Weasleys and Hermione finally emerged from the Hogwarts Express, Harry found his resolve evaporate like steam from a kettle. Ron and Hermione immediately ran over and launched into an elaborate account of their skiing trip. Ron quickly abandoned his owl card façade and was full of enthusiasm about his adventures with the Muggles even though he sported a broken right arm and left leg. Hermione fussed a great deal about getting him to Madam Pomfrey and enlisted Harry's help in levitating him up the stairs. Madam Pomfrey mended Ron's broken bones in a few minutes but clucked a great deal about primitive Muggle medicine as she spent much longer applying a breaking charm to Ron's Muggle casts. By the time his bones had been fixed, however, Ginny had disappeared and when Harry next saw her, she was with a group of her fellow fifth-years.

When Harry had imagined talking to Ginny, it had always been alone in the common room, the other students having mysteriously vanished. But in real life, no such thing occurred. The common room was always full of students, Ginny was always with her friends, and Harry was nearly always with Ron and Hermione. It was true that Ginny now seemed to be studying with them less and Harry wondered whether she might have lost interest in him but on quick reflection, he found this doubtful.

As January rolled into February, and Harry was still no nearer to bringing himself to talk to Ginny, a new fear began to well up inside him. Ginny was waiting for February 14th to roll around again and then she was going to tell him something, or give him something and then things would be much more difficult. He had to find a way to talk to her sometime before then.

Harry was turning these things over in his head one Thursday during the first week of February when he walked into Professor Nevins' office for his Defense Against the Dark Arts tutorial. Nevins had finished teaching him the Levitatus charm and was now training him to block multiple curses. He conjured two life-like Death Eaters in his office, complete with robes and masks, that would change position and fire hexes at Harry in quick succession.

"Impedio!" cried Harry as he blocked one spell. "Imp – "

The second Death Eater's Avada Kedavra hit him on his arm.

"If that were a real curse, you would most probably be dead now," remarked Nevins offhandedly. "Try again."

Harry kept trying but nearly every time the second curse caught him on the hand. He found himself increasingly flustered until finally it seemed he could block spells from neither Death Eater.

"Finite Incantatem," shouted Nevins suddenly and both Death Eaters disappeared. He turned to Harry.

"Is there something bothering you today, Harry? You seem a little distracted."

Harry thought of lying to Nevins but then decided against it. "Well, to be honest, professor, there is something on my mind."

But if Harry thought he was going to earn any sympathy from Nevins, he was mistaken.

"And suppose, Harry, that you have something on your mind when the Death Eaters decide to strike, what then?"

Harry found himself a little piqued at this. Did Nevins think he didn't know what a Death Eater attack was like?

"Well," he remarked. "I doubt I would be worrying about something else if any real Death Eaters were attacking me."

Harry realized too late that this had been the very last thing he should have said. Nevins' jaw hardened and he turned around to Harry and said:

"Then perhaps I should arrange for a more realistic exercise next week. That will be all for today. Please make sure that whatever it is that is distracting you is resolved by then. I expect nothing less than your full attention in my lessons. Oh, and I'm afraid I have another engagement next Thursday. You will meet me instead on Friday afternoon at 1 o'clock. We should be finished before your potions lesson at 3."

Harry nodded a little meekly and walked out of Nevins' office. He felt a mixture of guilt at having let his teacher down after he had taken the time to provide the extra lessons and apprehension at what Nevins was planning for the following week. It was the next day before Harry realized with horror that his following week's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson would fall on Valentine's Day. Did Nevins realize this? Was that why he had changed the timing of their class? Did he suspect the true cause of Harry's distraction? Or was this merely an unhappy coincidence? Not for the first time, Harry found himself unnerved at how much Nevins seemed to know about him and how little Harry understood about Nevins in return.

Whatever the case, Harry knew that it would be very difficult for him to keep Ginny out of his mind as the morning of the 14th of February dawned. As soon as Harry woke, he looked around his room furtively for any sign of golden-winged dwarfs bearing singing Valentines.

"Did you expect a Death Eater in our room this morning?" asked Ron nonchalantly ignoring the scandalized look on Harry's face. "I suppose your new pet would warn us if there was anyone intruding." He indicated Snitch who had woken himself and was now bouncing up and down in an excited state on Harry's bed while Dean, Seamus, and Neville laughed.

"No, er, I was – I was just looking for my shoes."

Harry and Ron made their way down to breakfast. Harry kept turning corners nervously, sighing with relief when there was nothing unusual around the other side.

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked Ron. "Don't know why you're so jumpy. It's me that has to be worried. I suppose you haven't been keeping track but today is Valentine's Day."

Harry half-expected to walk into the Great Hall and discover it decorated with large pink flowers and heart-shaped confetti just as it had when Lockhart had been their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and tried to boost morale by sending out card-carrying cupids singing Valentines, the very thing that had led to the consternation Harry was now facing. He was relieved to find that the hall looked much the same as usual.

Hermione was waiting for them and had already started her breakfast. She greeted Ron with a kiss and took a present out from underneath her chair. It was a box of Honeydukes' chocolate in the shape of a heart.

"Thanks, Hermione!" Ron kissed her again.

"I knew a box of chocolate could never go wrong with you," said Hermione breezily to both Harry and Ron.

Ron started to look anxious again. For a sinking moment, Harry wondered whether Ron had forgotten to give her a present and began to eat his breakfast much faster. But then Ron said:

"Y – your present will be coming by post. It's a little big."

Hermione looked curiously at Ron. She did not have to wait long to find out what it was, however, for the hall was soon full of an unusually large number of owls, several of which collided in mid-air while trying to deliver mail to their senders. Amidst the usual envelopes and copies of the Daily Prophet flew a shower of small chocolate boxes and red roses. Harry prayed that none would fall his way. He turned his head sideways to look over at Ginny who was sitting several seats away from them with her roommates but found she seemed to have become very interested in her food. Harry's attention was quickly jerked back to the table, however, when Pigwidgeon and four tawny owls dropped a very long package in front of Hermione.

For a moment Harry thought Ron had given Hermione a broomstick but it was a little too wide and there was no bulge where the end should have been. Hermione looked at the package curiously for a moment as an unusually exhausted Pigwidgeon went to receive owl treats from Ron. Then she opened it.

And pulled out a long pair of magenta skis covered with light pink hearts that throbbed up and down magically. It was the gaudiest thing Harry had ever seen.

"I – I – I bought these when we were on holiday," explained Ron a little nervously, "and then I had it taken to a shop in Hogsmeade and enchanted. I suppose it violates the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts law but since my Dad – "

Ron's unnecessarily long explanation was cut short when Hermione planted a very sloppy kiss on his lips.

"Oh, Ron, it's wonderful! I've never owned a pair of skis before. How ever did you afford them?"

"Well, I'd saved up a bit of Muggle money from our trip and so I managed."

Hermione kissed him again. Harry looked over to see that Seamus and Dean had stopped eating and shoved napkins over their mouths to prevent themselves from laughing out loud. If he hadn't been so anxious, Harry probably would have joined them.

Finally, breakfast was over and Harry left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. He spent most of the morning looking around, startled at the slightest sound, convinced that an enchanted Valentine was going to come floating his way from Ginny. But as lunch came and went and his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson loomed closer, Harry tried to force himself to concentrate on the tasks ahead. He knew that he would need all of his effort on this day.

With a feeling of panic that equaled if not surpassed his fear of receiving a new Valentine, Harry knocked on the door to Professor Nevins' office and was asked in.

Nevins was sitting at his desk and looked up at him with an air of indifference. "On time I see, Harry, good."

Nevins stood up and walked in front of his desk. He took out his wand and pointed it at two cabinets on either side of the room. Harry was sure they had not been there before.

"Do you know what is inside these cabinets, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"I confess I was at a loss as to what to plan for today's lesson, since my conjured Death Eaters were apparently not realistic enough for you last week. I could not, of course, bring a real Death Eater into my office but I think we can suffice with these. We have here two Boggarts. I recently had chance to talk to your former teacher, Professor Lupin." Nevins smiled his infuriatingly knowing smile. "He told me that you are very skilled at handling Boggarts. But this time, Harry, I don't want you to get rid of the Boggart, I want you to remain under their spell, as it were. I want you to pretend that these two Boggarts are really two Death Eaters, or two Dementors, or perhaps even two versions of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I want you to disarm them and keep disarming them."

Harry swallowed and nodded.

Nevins moved toward the left wardrobe door. "I will let this one out first. Then, when you are ready, I will release the second."

Harry nodded and then took out his wand and held it out in front of him, ready. He wasn't sure how he was going to disarm a Dementor - and he was nearly certain that a Dementor would emerge from the wardrobe. He concentrated for a moment on producing a Patronus should it become necessary. He had no sooner done so when Nevins opened the door to the wardrobe and a Boggart stepped out, slowly turned, and advanced on Harry.

But it was not a Dementor. Nor was it a Death Eater. Nor even the Dark Lord himself.

It was Ginny Weasley.

Only it was not quite like the real Ginny. The features were unmistakable, of course: Ginny's long red hair fell in locks down the front of her Gryffindor robes. But where Ginny's eyes were bright and her cheeks full of color, the Ginny that advanced on Harry was ghostly white, her lips were blue and her eyes were sullen and blank, as though there was nothing alive behind them.

If Nevins was surprised that the Boggart took Ginny's form, he did not show it.

"Now disarm it, Harry, before it gets any closer. Do it now."

Harry held out his wand in front of him and tried to cast a disarming spell on the Boggart but the curse seemed to catch in his throat. Ginny's eyes had narrowed and there was now a flicker of something behind them. Something accusing him. Harry felt a horrible sickening wave of guilt rush over him. Guilt for what he did not know. But he knew it was consuming him, eating him away. He knew he could not act. He could not strike.

"Do it now, Harry," Nevins was saying somewhere far away. "You can't stop to think. Disarm it!"

But Harry was frozen to the spot. He felt himself start to shake. The power of the guilt seemed to grab hold of him like a glove. A voice inside his head told him that any action he took would hurt him, that any choice he would make was wrong.

"Just get rid of it then!"

Nevins was shouting now. But still Ginny advanced. And the closer she got, the more Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to stop her.

"Harry, do it now! Don't make me – you can't – Harry, no, you – "

And then very suddenly Nevins had run over and stood in front of the Boggart. Harry felt the crushing weight of his own angst leave him as the Boggart turned toward Nevins. He quickly stepped to one side.

Nevins pointed his wand at the Boggart. Harry noticed with surprise that Nevins no longer looked calm at all. His face was bright with deep purple blotches and when he spoke his voice was full of hysteria.

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddik – "

There was a popping noise and the Boggart changed form. Though Harry could not remember ever meeting its new face in person, it was unmistakable from the moving photographs he had poured over ever since his first day at Hogwarts.

It was Harry's father.

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus! R – r – "

Nevins fell to the floor in a heap.

"Professor Nevins!" cried Harry, alarmed.

"Make it stop!" whimpered Nevins, pulling his cloak over his head like a child who hoped he could make the monsters go away by hiding in his bed sheets. "Make it go away, please!"

Harry knew that he was the only one who could stop the Boggart now. He stepped in front of Nevins, his heart racing as he looked his own father in the eye. James' face was ghostly white, just as Ginny's had been, and his eyes flickered with the same accusing stare.

And then he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing curiously, as if no longer sure he was facing the person to whom his blame was intended. Harry clutched his wand in his hand and the Boggart changed back into Ginny, its eyes narrowing again as it advanced on Harry.

Harry felt the cloud of guilt descend on his mind again but he forced himself to concentrate on something amusing.

"R – r – riddikulus!"

The Boggart staggered. Harry swished his wand again and it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Panting for breath, Harry moved to Professor Nevins. He could see right away that Nevins was now a pathetic shadow of the man who had taken such firm command of their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. He remained sprawled across the floor, his back resting awkwardly on a chair and his breath coming only in panting rasps.

"Professor Nevins, are you all right?"

Nevins did not reply for a moment but stared up at the ceiling.

"Professor Nevins!" said Harry again.

"That will be all for today, Harry," said Nevins in a dream-like voice. "I'm afraid I'm not really feeling very well."

"Professor, I think I'd better take you to the hospital wing."

"No, Harry, that won't be necessary. Just – "

"But Professor, I – "

"GO!" Nevins boomed, his face purple, pointing a shaking finger at the door. "YOU'VE CAUSED ENOUGH TROUBLE AS IT IS! NOW JUST GO!"

Harry did not reply. Shaken, he quickly gathered his books and left the office as fast as he could.