In the dead of night, long before birds would chirp and while nearly every inhabitant of Hogwarts was asleep, another small group was gathered far away. For those assembled, most secretly wished they hadn't been summoned. The past three days had been among the most difficult to endure, and for the lucky ones, to witness.
Pettigrew had returned from Ottery St. Catchpole sometime after midnight, Sunday morning. Snape, Bellatrix, Baldwin and Dolohov were waiting with Voldemort when he scampered in and transformed. Snape refused to be impressed by the Animagus. He saw nothing noteworthy about the rat of a man turning into his true self, anyway.
It was Pettigrew's report however, that made them all take notice. He nervously informed Voldemort that the Weasley home was empty. He'd seen no sign of them as he hid in the fields and searched for a way inside. He'd finally managed to gain entry after a long trip through a drainpipe. There was no one inside and no indication that anyone would be returning. He'd waited an entire day before starting his long journey back to their hideout.
Voldemort's angry eyes flashed red, but he said absolutely nothing to Pettigrew. He'd turned and nodded at Bellatrix. Her cruel eyes flashed with excitement before she bowed to Voldemort and rushed from the room, with Baldwin at her heels.
The Dark Lord had said nothing to the others and simply vanished from the room. He remained eerily silent and unapproachable until Bella, Baldwin and a few of their more recent recruits returned late Monday evening.
Bellatrix really was nearly unrecognizable. She'd actually lopped off her long tresses and magically colored what remained auburn. Donned in a flatteringly cut dark green robe and matching cloak, one could easily mistake her for a normal witch out and about for a day of shopping. That is, until you looked closely, and saw the perpetual snarl on her lips and the hard glint of her eyes.
On Monday evening she also sported a long gash on the right side of her exposed neck. Baldwin was winded and favoring his left leg. The three others with them were marked with an array of gashes and bruises. Things had apparently not gone well.
She had the unfortunate duty of informing Voldemort that they'd nearly gotten to the train when they were somehow spotted and then swarmed by a contingent of Order members. They had lost three Death Eaters, with one confirmed dead.
Voldemort hadn't cared how many of them had been hurt or killed. He only wanted to know if Potter had been on that train. When they could not give him that information, his rage pulsated through the room.
In a blink, he had moved from the center of the room and stood directly behind two of Bella's new charges.
With a bone chilling "Avada Kedavra," the first wizard dropped to the floor, dead. The second one tuned and reflexively pulled his wand in one hand, and tried to shield his face with the other. That had been a mistake. Voldemort toyed with the pleading Death Eater until nearly dawn on Tuesday. He seemed to take great pleasure in torturing him; and finally, when he'd grown bored, mercifully whispered the killing curse once more.
And now, with both bodies still on the stone floor, Bellatrix, Snape, Dolohov and Baldwin stood waiting for the next wave of his fury.
Pettigrew entered the room, escorting Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. They were both pale and sickly looking, still moving slower than normal. Narcissa shuddered visibly and lowered her head at the sight of the Death Eaters' dead bodies. She and Draco had been at the receiving end of Voldemort's rage and she knew that could be them at any moment. Draco showed no reaction to the bodies; in fact, he seemed not to be reacting to anything. Snape watched him closely.
"Come here, Draco," said Voldemort.
Draco walked forward stiffly and stood before Voldemort. Nagini, coiled by her master's feet, raised her head slightly and hissed at Draco.
"Yes, My Lord," he said.
"Draco, I need information, and they," he said, pointing at the dead Death Eaters, "failed to obtain it. My patience is growing rather thin. Can you assist me?" he asked mockingly.
"I'll do whatever you ask, My Lord," answered Draco.
"How many of your former housemates were allowed to return to Hogwarts?" demanded Voldemort.
"Only two that I associated with," he replied. "Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini."
"Do you trust them?"
"It's not wise to trust many people," answered Draco. "Blaise will always look out for himself, so as long as there's no risk for him, sure. But Pansy would do anything I ask."
"Good, Draco," said Voldemort softly. "I want you to contact Miss Parkinson and find out if Potter is back at school. You will need to word your correspondence carefully. No one but Ms. Parkinson can know what it is about or know that it is from you."
"I can do that, My Lord."
"Wormtail," called Lord Voldemort. "Please find another owl for Draco's use. We do not want the Malfoy eagle owl recognized at Hogwarts. Make sure you check his letter before allowing it to be sent."
"Yes, right away, My Lord," answered Pettigrew.
"And Draco, please tell me you understand the consequences should you fail me," added Voldemort, with a glance once more at the bodies on the floor.
"Yes, Master. I understand completely," he answered with his eyes still flat.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hours later, Harry was once again at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He'd wanted a little time to himself, and hadn't waited for either Hermione or Ron. He was eating slowly and trying to sort out everything running around in his head. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Who was he kidding? Everything was nagging at him: the Horcruxes, what Voldemort was up to, concern for his friends, and Dumbledore's complex and puzzling plans.
"Morning, Potter," came Moody's voice from across the room. He was standing in the doorway to the antechamber near the top of the room. "We need a moment."
Harry grabbed his things and headed for the doorway. He hadn't been in here since the morning of the final task in the Triwizard Tournament.
"Hi, Moody," he said as he moved to close the door and found Lupin standing behind it.
"Hello, Harry," said Lupin. "How are you?"
"Lupin," said Harry, relieved to finally see him again. "I'm okay; how are you?"
"I'm fine, really," he answered.
"Is everyone all right? Professor McGonagall said there'd been Death Eaters in Hogsmeade near the train…"
"Slow down, Harry," said Lupin kindly. "Have a seat, please. Where are Ron and Hermione?"
"They're still in Gryffindor Tower. I don't know how soon they'll be down," he answered.
"Well, you can give them the highlights, yourself," said Moody. "I've already updated Minerva."
"Yes, Harry," began Lupin, "a small band of Death Eaters were in Hogsmeade Monday afternoon and they did manage to get fairly close to Hogsmeade station."
"How were they spotted?" asked Harry.
"We believe there were six to eight of them approaching the station. Dozens of Auror and Order members were spread throughout the village, as well. Most of these Death Eaters were newer members. One definitely was not, and that is when the alarm was sounded.
"Who was it?" asked Harry.
Lupin seemed not to want to answer, but he said, "It was Bellatrix, Harry."
Harry saw red behind his eyes. How had that raving, murdering lunatic gotten that close to the station and not been spotted.
"Please tell me she was the Death Eater that was killed," Harry said in barely above a whisper.
"She was not," said Lupin. "She'd altered her appearance dramatically. Even I barely recognized her."
"You're the one who spotted her, then," said Harry.
"Yes," he said. "I was facing a store window, my back to the street, when I caught her reflection as she crossed the street. Nothing about her seemed familiar until she turned to look further down the street and I saw her eyes. I do not believe I shall ever forget them."
"That makes two of us," answered Harry. He knew Lupin, like Harry himself, was remembering the sick look upon her face as she watched Sirius fall through that black veil in the Ministry.
"She may have gotten away," said Moody, "but she went back empty handed and with half her friends dead or captured. I reckon her boss wasn't too happy about that."
"In the meantime," said Lupin, "we've increased security in the castle and on the grounds.
"Yeah, we've noticed," said Harry.
"By the way, how are your new professors?" asked Moody with his magical eye rolling.
"We had Jillian's class yesterday. She was amazing. We'll see Tonks this morning, and I'm sure that'll be great," answered Harry.
"We've tried to place mostly Order members in the castle and on the immediate grounds," said Moody. "I'll be leaving today and working out of Hogsmeade with Kingsley. We've got Aurors all over the village, too."
"Where will you be, Lupin?" asked Harry.
"Mostly at Headquarters, and wherever else I am needed. Jillian and Nymphadora will send us regular reports; but reach out to any of us if you need anything, all right?"
"Okay. Be careful," said Harry.
The bell rang and Harry pulled the door open a crack. He waited several minutes until the noise died down and the hall emptied before easing through the doorway and moving towards the double doors at the opposite end.
With barely a minute to spare, he slipped into the seat beside Ron at the front of the Transfiguration classroom.
"Where've you been?" asked Ron.
Harry waved at Hermione in the next row and whispered to Ron, "I'll tell you later."
They didn't get to talk about anything else because Tonks entered the room.
"Good morning. Good morning," she called cheerfully as she walked to the front of the room. "It is so good to be back here, again."
It was weird seeing her in professional robes. Harry looked down and jabbed Ron lightly in the ribs. Tonks was wearing bright pink trainers that poked out beneath her conservative black robes, and sporting radically cool, matching pink earrings.
"Please, Professor Tonks," came Megan Jones's voice, "would you mind telling us which house you were in?"
They were sharing a class with the Hufflepuffs, again. McGonagall hadn't said a word about this change, but somehow Harry knew it had been done at Dumbledore's urging.
"I'm a badger, just like you," she answered. "I'm a true Hufflepuff, through and through."
Everyone laughed. Harry thought about everything he'd learned about Helga Hufflepuff and knew she would have definitely approved of Nymphadora Tonks.
Transfiguration class was loads of fun. Tonks made a game of reviewing a lot of what they'd learned over the last six years. In between exercises, she dazzled them with amazing bits of Transfiguration, like turning an empty desk into a pink and purple striped baby elephant. Students were still scrambling to talk to her when the bell rang.
"We are still using a Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, so please make sure you read chapter twenty before Friday. We'll pick up there. Have a good day," she called to the slowly retreating class.
"Why do the cool teachers show up in our last year?" complained Dean Thomas as they walked along the corridor. "Wouldn't it have been awesome to have her and Professor Grayson – and oh, yeah, Professor Lupin on staff all these years?"
"They are great teachers," said Hermione earnestly. "But we've learned lots under Professor McGonagall and the others, too."
"Harry, what's the matter?" asked Ron with a wink when he realized Harry had stopped walking with them and was pretending to dig through his bag.
"I think something fell out of my bag in Transfiguration. You all go ahead. I'll catch up later," he said and turned back down the corridor.
He knocked on the door and was admitted once more by Tonks, who closed and locked the door behind them.
"Wotcher, Harry!" said Tonks. "Sorry, I couldn't think of a really good reason to keep you after class today. I figured you'd find a way to slip back here."
"No problem. Class was great, by the way. You're really good at this," he said sincerely.
"Thanks."
"So let me guess," he said, "you got a letter from Dumbledore."
"You know about that, huh?" she asked.
"A bit; but I don't know what was in it," he replied.
"Well, Dumbledore asked that I train you in Transfiguration. Originally, I thought I'd just be stationed here from the Ministry and that we'd sneak off somewhere and practice. Then McGonagall talked to me and offered me this position, and it seemed like a better solution."
"So, what are we going to work on?"
"Well, we'll continue reviewing for this session. You did pretty well in class today. I'm just going to help you fine tune your technique."
"Okay."
"Afterwards, we'll follow the class syllabus, just at a faster pace then the rest of the class. While the class works through the text, you and I will branch out into more complex Transfiguration."
"Like what?" asked Harry.
"Like this," she said and pulled her wand and turned the center of the far wall into a running waterfall. "And this," she added as Harry stared in amazement at a small statue of a leopard that became the real thing. With a few quick waves from her wand, the wall and statue were once again in place.
"Are you serious?" asked Harry.
"Absolutely," said Tonks. "I know you can do it, and Dumbledore knew it, too. I hear he was a phenomenal Transfiguration professor. I'm sorry he didn't get to teach you, himself; but I'm flattered he trusted me to do it."
For the next half hour, Tonks had Harry transfiguring everything from paper clips to owls. He even managed to turn his entire head of hair an electrifying shade of blue.
"Hey, I like that," said Tonks as Harry laughed and untransfigured his hair back to normal.
"I prefer it this way, thanks," he said.
"I want you to work on concentrating," she said, turning serious again. "You know the spells and incantations, and I can already see a difference in your technique from earlier this morning. Your transfigurations are already smoother; but they can be better and faster, the more you are able to focus."
"Okay, I'll try," he said.
"Good. I know it's easier said than done, especially with everything that's going on. I'd be a basket case if I were in your place. Honestly, I'm impressed."
"Thanks, Tonks," he said just as the bell rang again.
Harry had a free period and decided to go outside. He walked out the castle doors and found them guarded by DeSousa.
"Going for a walk, Mr. Potter?" he asked.
"Yeah, I won't be long."
"Not a problem. It's a lovely day. Enjoy," said the Order member with a wink at Harry.
Harry walked across the grounds, headed for the Black Lake. He bypassed his favorite spot and made his way to the east side of the bank. Finally, he stood under what had to be the largest and oldest tree in the vicinity. He looked up at the canopy of boughs, branches and dense leaves and felt confident this was the tree he'd read about in Hufflepuff's journal.
Harry walked around the massive trunk and tested the surrounding ground. Everything was packed tight. Nothing on the ground had been disturbed in a long time. How long would it take him to dig? Where would he start? Could he do it tonight?
Harry stretched out beneath the offered shade, closed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind. It wasn't working. At this rate, he really was going to need to use the Pensieve pretty soon. From a distance, he could hear excited laughter. He knew it had to be one of Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes. Some of them had been really fun and interesting. A few had not and he chose not to reminisce about those.
Suddenly, Harry sat straight up. Hagrid had magical creatures. More importantly, Hagrid had nifflers; and nifflers loved to dig for treasure.
Harry dashed back to the castle, passed DeSousa and made his way to the Owlery. Hedwig opened her amber eyes when she sensed him standing in front of her, scribbling a note.
"Sorry to wake you, girl," he said as he finished writing. "You can go back to sleep after I give this to you."
Hedwig obliged and stuck out her leg
"Can you deliver this to Hagrid for me, later today? Just make sure he gets it before dinner."
Hedwig hooted her reply and closed her eyes again.
For the second time that day, Harry barely made it to class on time. This time, he sat next to Hermione.
Professor Flitwick, standing atop his usual stack of books, called the class to order. He'd always been one of their favorite professors, and the class passed without incident. Even Seamus managed to get through review without blowing anything up or bowling over Professor Flitwick.
"Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter, could you stay for a few moments?" called Professor Flitwick at the end of class.
When the others had been dismissed, Flitwick turned to them.
"Ms. Granger," he began excitedly, "I was delighted with your project proposal. I think it's a fabulous idea and I'd be happy to give you whatever information you think would be helpful. Please come by when you have a free period and we'll schedule some sessions."
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," said Hermione as she nudged Harry beneath the desk. "I'll stop by later this afternoon."
"Excellent. You may go to your next class, now," said Flitwick. "Please close the door as you leave."
"See you later, Harry," said Hermione.
Harry's private lesson with Flitwick was going a little differently. He'd also gotten a request from Dumbledore to provide extra lessons, but apparently hadn't been given a lot of detail. Flitwick was not an Order member, but he was certainly astute enough to know something major was going on.
He didn't press Harry for answers; he simply began doing as Dumbledore had requested.
After he'd put Harry through a few paces, he gave the same advise as Tonks.
"Focus and balance are key, Mr. Potter," he said. "I heard about your impressive display during Defense Against the Dark Arts, yesterday. A few Hufflepuffs mentioned it to Professor Sprout, and she asked Professor Grayson about it in the staff lounge last evening."
"It was a lot harder than I thought it would be," said Harry.
"I'm sure it was. However, I can teach you to perform combined charms in the blink of an eye?"
"Really, Professor," said Harry.
"Yes, I can. You just need to work on your concentration."
"Okay, sir," said Harry doubtfully.
"We'll start slow and build up. For now, I want you to start learning the charms in this book," he said, summoning a large book that landed in Harry's hands. "Please try to get through chapter one before Monday's private lesson."
"I will, Professor."
"And, Mr. Potter," said Professor Flitwick, with a very knowing look in his eyes, "please don't hesitate to find me if I can be of any further assistance."
Harry was relieved to get to lunch and find both Hermione and Ron waiting for him today. He ate quickly and they left for a quick meeting in Gryffindor Tower. There were a few first-years in the common room, and they stared wide-eyed at Harry as he entered. The trio kept walking and rushed upstairs to the boys' empty dormitory. Harry closed the door and Hermione sealed the room.
He told them all about his conversation with Moody and Lupin, and about his private lessons with Tonks and Flitwick. He pulled out the charms book Flitwick had given him and handed it to Hermione.
"I'd hate to think what might have happened if Lupin hadn't spotted Bellatrix," said Ron.
"We'd probably be short a few more students," said Harry seriously.
"Harry, I've never seen this book in the library, or hardly any of these charms anywhere else," said Hermione as she flipped through the book. "This is fascinating."
"Yeah, well, I've got to get through the first chapter before Monday, so would you mind giving me a hand?"
"Of course not," she answered.
Next, he filled them in on his visit to the Black Lake and his note to Hagrid.
"Do you want us to go with you?" asked Ron.
"No, that's okay. I asked Hagrid to meet me in the entrance hall at nine o'clock. I'll be wearing my Cloak. I know I don't have to, but I'd rather avoid a hassle with Filch, anyway."
"We'll wait in the common room for you, then," said Hermione.
"Come on, put that book away," said Ron, "We need to get to Herbology."
Harry put the charms book under some robes in his trunk and then followed his friends downstairs and out to the Herbology greenhouses.
Finally, Harry had a regular class with no special sessions or secret messages or oddly behaving professors. True, he spent an hour working with aconite, an extremely poisonous plant, but otherwise, things were going okay.
His afternoon got a little brighter when, on their way back to the castle, he spotted Ginny walking towards them.
"Hi," she said. " I got out of my last class a little early today and thought I'd come meet you. Do you want to go for a walk?"
"You two go ahead," said Ron, a little too quickly. "Hermione's got another class and I need to do some homework. We'll catch up later."
He and Ginny spent a quite afternoon walking the grounds and talking about the simplest of things. They ended up at the Quidditch pitch, which they both admitted they missed. They saw Kipling nearby and he nodded at them before they walked onto the field.
It was completely and eerily silent. He and Ginny stopped in its center and looked around at rows and rows of empty seats.
"This feels wrong," said Harry, talking about the empty playing pitch.
"So do other things," said Ginny, clearing talking about them.
Harry couldn't argue the point. He'd missed her terribly while she was in France. He was grateful for whatever time they managed to spend in mixed company with Ron and Hermione, and the others. But he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want more. He missed moments like these most of all. He'd been trying so hard to keep her safety foremost in his thoughts, well ahead of his own wishes.
She walked closer to him and could see the battle raging behind the beautiful green eyes she loved so much.
"I know," she said quietly, and reached out to cup his jaw in her small hand. She hesitated a moment, but then stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently.
She didn't pull away fast enough and Harry finally gave in, reached for her other hand and pulled her closer and returned the kiss, long, hungrily and deeply. Everything else fell away. Only this moment existed and all other thoughts vanished.
When they finally broke apart, Harry knew he shouldn't have done it; but he couldn't even pretend to regret it. Neither could Ginny. They looked at each other and communicated so much without uttering a single word.
"You'd better go," he finally said in a thick voice, squeezing her hand before releasing it. "Tell Ron and Hermione I decided to go to Hagrid's first, okay?"
"Aren't you coming to dinner?" she asked, her own voice slightly strained.
"No, I'll probably just eat with Hagrid," said Harry.
He'd never choose Hagrid's cooking over the school meals, but he needed to pull himself together.
"Okay, I'll see you later. Be careful," she said and walked quietly away.
Harry knew Kipling was still nearby and would watch her. Still, he existed minutes behind her and followed in her path at a slow pace until he could see her approaching the castle. Satisfied, he continued on his own to Hagrid's cabin.
Hagrid opened the door, and was holding Harry's note that Hedwig must have just delivered.
"Harry, what are yeh doing here? "I'm supposed to meet yeh at nine," he said, waving the letter at Harry.
"I needed some air and decided to come down to you, instead," said Harry as he stepped across the threshold. "Is this a bad time?"
"Course not," said Hagrid. "I'm always glad to see yeh."
Harry sat at Hagrid's large wooden table and got a large, wet greeting from Fang.
"So what do yeh need with a couple of nifflers, Harry?" asked Hagrid.
Harry was going to make up some excuse, but then realized he didn't have the energy to keep inventing cover stories. He knew Hagrid would never do anything to put him in danger.
"I'm working on something Dumbledore wanted me to do," he answered truthfully.
"Sorry, but I'm not allowed to say any more about it."
"I know all about keepin' Dumbledore's secrets," said Hagrid. "I understand."
"So, can you help me?"
"Sure, Harry. Nifflers are out back. I guess yeh want to start when it gets dark, then."
"Yeah, over on the east bank of the lake," said Harry.
"All right. Why don't yeh go out back and visit with Buckbeak while I finish dinner. Soup's just 'bout finished and the bread won't take long."
Harry eyed the simmering pot suspiciously and got up and headed out back with Fang at his heels.
He spent the early evening visiting with the hippogriff and feeding him a meal of ferrets. Hagrid called him in for dinner and Harry stopped at a water bucket to wash his hands before returning to the cabin.
Harry was immensely relieved to find Hagrid had prepared vegetable soup and he didn't have to worry about identifying any strange and unknown meat. Even the fresh baked bread wasn't too bad.
When the sky was inky dark, Harry, Hagrid and Fang set off for the Black Lake with three nifflers on leashes. Harry pointed out the area he was interested in exploring and Hagrid turned one of the nifflers over to him. In less than an hour, the nifflers, illuminated by wand light, easily cut through the packed earth and dug in and out of the entire area surrounding the old tree.
They'd turned up coins, jewelry, buckles and even a small photo frame, but not the item Harry was hoping to uncover. Hagrid looked at him and Harry shook his head.
"Do yeh want to try another spot?" asked Hagrid hopefully.
Harry looked up at the huge tree and knew it was definitely the right one. It simply wasn't where Voldemort had chosen to hide the Hufflepuff relic.
"No, that's all right, Hagrid. It was a long shot, anyway. But thanks for your help."
"Well, since we dug up the ground, I might as well come back tomorrow mornin' and plant some flowers or somethin'," he said.
"That's a good idea. I can come down early and give you a hand," said Harry.
"Nah, you've got a lot to do. I can handle it. Come on, I'll walk with yeh to the castle," offered Hagrid.
Hagrid stood with Fang and the leashed nifflers and watched Harry walk up the stairs to the castle doors. DeSousa was standing sentry.
"Good evening, Potter," said the Order member.
Harry looked around to make sure no one was else was around and said, "Hi, Andre."
"You'd better get inside. Filch is on the prowl and I'm sure he'd love to try and hassle you."
"Right," said Harry as he walked into the huge foyer.
He started up the marble staircase and could hear the booms and clanks as DeSousa closed the heavy door and magically engaged the series of bolts and locks.
Ron and Hermione were indeed waiting for him in the common room. Ginny wasn't with them, and he was simultaneously pleased and disappointed by her absence.
"Are you all right?" asked Hermione.
"I'm fine," said Harry, but Hermione was looking at him as if she didn't believe him.
"Ginny said you decided to go to Hagrid's early. How'd it go?" asked Ron.
"Well, our funny little friends worked great, but it wasn't there," he said quietly. "I'll keep trying," he added discreetly.
"So will we, Harry," said Hermione. "It's getting late; we should get to sleep."
Thursday came and went and Harry awoke Friday morning with his back stiff and sore. Andre had decided that Harry should learn how to fall properly, and spent a good deal of their second session tossing him around with a variety of Jujitsu throws. A hot bath hadn't helped very much this time.
Harry was quiet during Transfiguration class and was grateful that today wasn't a double session.
He was, however, now on his way to his first private Potions lesson. He knocked on the classroom door and heard a muffled "enter."
Harry entered and found Slughorn looking even more agitated than he had been in regular classes this week.
"Are you all right, sir?" asked Harry.
"Does anyone else know you are here?" asked Slughorn suddenly.
"Professor McGonagall does, obviously; and R…" began Harry, but he stopped and looked at Professor Slughorn.
Harry had figured it out. Slughorn was afraid of the wrong people finding out he was aiding Harry. It was just like last year, when Dumbledore had such a hard time persuading Slughorn to teach at Hogwarts.
Harry had been on edge since early Wednesday evening and Slughorn was really starting to annoy him.
"Professor, if you don't want to do this, you really don't have to," he said as calmly as he could manage. "No one can make you."
"But Dumbledore wanted me to do this. He left this long letter and went on and on…"
"Dumbledore isn't here," said Harry, a bit more sharply than he'd intended. "I can walk out that door and we can pretend we never had this conversation."
Harry could see Slughorn wanting so badly to take him up on his last offer. This was just unbelievable. And Dumbledore thought he'd be willing to help?
Slughorn sighed and sat heavily in the chair behind his desk.
"I know you find me an old fool, Harry," said Slughorn.
"No, I don't," said Harry with some difficulty. "I just don't understand you. You're not a member of the Order and only a few people know that we're here. I'm not going to say anything and they certainly won't either."
"You have a lot of faith in your friends, Harry."
"Yes, I do," said Harry. "I trust them completely. Apparently, Dumbledore thought he could trust you. Was he wrong?" asked Harry.
Slughorn looked at him for a long moment.
"You really are as much a Gryffindor as he was," said Slughorn. "We're not all that brave."
"There are different types of bravery, you know," said Harry.
"He wrote that it was critical I instruct you," said Slughorn. "What happens if I don't?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
Slughorn said nothing more and Harry assumed he'd made up his mind, so he turned to leave.
"Wait, Harry," he called. "I'll do it."
"Are you sure? You'll give me extra Potions lessons?"
"No, my dear boy, not Potions -- although I imagine that's what it says on your schedule, then. No, Harry, Dumbledore wanted me to instruct you in Occlumency."
It was Harry's turn to sit down.
He searched his memories and recalled Dumbledore saying what an accomplished Occlumens Slughorn was.
"Neither of us seems to be at our best right now, Harry. Shall we start again next Friday, then?" asked Slughorn.
Harry nodded, mumbled "Thank you, sir," picked up his bag, stood and took his leave.
He roamed aimlessly around the castle trying to wrap his mind around everything he'd been told this week. He felt like something was staring him in the face and he couldn't see it.
At the next bell, he headed off to Defense Against the Dark Arts and took his usual seat next to Ron. Jillian had planned another excellent class, thus allowing him a slight reprieve from his uneasy thoughts.
Friday's Independent Study session rounded out his week of surprises. He walked into the first floor corridor expecting to head into class with DeSousa; but instead, found Firenze waiting quietly.
"Good afternoon, Harry Potter," said the centaur. "Your Friday lessons are with me."
"Oh," was about all he could think to reply.
"I think we should take advantage of the weather while we can. Please come with me," he said and they walked back towards the entry doors and out into the afternoon breeze.
They ended up in an open expanse of grass, with a distant view of the Whomping Willow. Harry sat down and waited for Firenze to say something; but the centaur continued to stand quietly and watch the sky, intermittently glancing at Harry.
After several awkward minutes, Harry broke the quiet and asked, "Firenze, shouldn't I be doing something?"
"You are," he replied simply.
"No, I'm not," said Harry slowly. "I'm just sitting here."
"That is what I want you to do."
"You want me to sit?"
"Yes, I want you to sit and relax for the remainder of the hour."
Harry found this really strange.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because your aura is overcharged; it is too chaotic."
"Sorry?"
"Every living thing has an energy field: the grass on which you sit, the breeze that caresses your skin, and the sun that lights this day," said Firenze.
"Okay," said Harry, even though he had no idea what the centaur was talking about.
"If you learn to quiet your energy and to focus it, you'd be amazed at how differently you see, hear and feel things. The wind in the trees tells us something. The alignment of the clouds tells us something. Everything speaks to us. I am going to teach you how to listen to it all; but most importantly, I am going to teach you how to listen to yourself."
Harry's raised brow said it all.
"Now then, find a position that is comfortable for you. I want you to remain still and quiet until the bell rings. Do you believe you can accomplish this task?"
"I don't see why not," he said, still failing to grasp the point of this particular exercise.
Harry stretched out and placed his bag beneath his head. To his dismay, it felt like the longest forty minutes ever, and he'd not done a great job of it. He kept doing odd things, like drumming his fingers against the ground or crossing one foot over the other.
"We shall try again next week, Harry Potter," said Firenze as he turned and galloped further across the grounds.
"I can hardly wait," thought Harry.