Disclaimer: They are not mine. They belong to J.K. Rowling.
Authors Notes: Again, thanks for your reviews.
excessivelyperky: Do you mind if I help you pimp? For those of you who have not already done so, go and read Grave Matters. Read my chapter first though. Grave Matters is like a one-shot on jet fuel or something. The entire sequel to HBP is there in glorious, gorgeous
detail. I love the way Hagrid is used and also the exploration of bigotry toward the Slytherin, as well as Dumbledore's complicity in scapegoating the group. There you go perky. Put my check in the mail.
duj: Thanks for the editing info and spelling correction. That was darn nice of you. As for your confusion, let's see if I can increase it. I'm not sure whether your question relates to Neville being injured or Dumbledores death. First the question of Neville "moving slowly". On page 642 of HBP reference is made to Luna helping Neville into a seat and how the two of them were the only ones to respond to the D.A.'s call. I kinda read Neville being helped as a hint that he had been banged up a bit. I could be reading too much into it though. I mention Dumbledore being dead and later Harry hoping to talk Dumbledore out of making him work with Snape. Dumbledore is dead, but his soul isn't, and is still giving Harry instructions via the Angelth. Hope that clears things up.
Harry lazy? You sound like Snape.
Chapter 4:
Hogwarts: A History Part II
Harry and Ron left the library one hour later having visited all but the restricted section. As they made their way back to Gryffindor tower, Ron deposited a pile of tiny books into Harry's cupped hands like he was handing over a batch of sweets.
When they entered the Gryffindor Common Room a few minutes later a stupidly grinning Dean handed them each a small glass of fire whiskey. Harry and Ron scanned the room in awed silence to find their fellow Gryffindors in various states of inebriation
"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed, "If McGonagall were to show up here she'd have our heads." Then after thinking for a moment he asked Harry, "I'll get four shall I, so we can share with the girls?"
Harry looked around the room disconcerted. Students were alternately laughing, weeping, snogging, and napping. An unfortunate few were puking, and an elite group were managing more than one of these activities at a time.
Illegal drinking while it wasn't the worst offense imaginable, and probably common place in some boarding schools, wasn't the sort of misbehavior Hogwarts students usually got up to. Although Harry had to admit this behavior was disgustingly tame in comparison to having
a student Death Eater running around campus all year, or a teacher murdering the Headmaster.
Harry realized that this was part of what was going on. Recent events had turned the world upside down and the students were reacting, rebelling, and grieving as best they knew how. Harry included himself in this. The stunt he and Ron had just pulled in the library was pretty
outside of the ordinary. Harry was seized again by the urge to tell Ron about the Angelth. He wanted to tell Dean too as the boy proffered a small glass with a happily glazed expression.
"Harry?" Ron asked again mischievously. "Think I should get some for Hermione and Gin?"
"Yeah," Harry replied blankly. "Take three and I'll meet you up there. I want to go up to our room and empty out my pockets."
Ron seemed to have no trouble accepting this, and he turned back to Dean who proffered three small glasses of amber liquid.
When Harry entered the boys dormitory it was empty, but he closed the curtains to his four poster and cast a Muffliatio spell as a precaution. He put his little pile of books on the bed and then carefully opened Dumbledore's Angelth.
"Ah, dear boy," The Headmaster greeted warmly.
"Good evening Professor," Harry responded. His joy at hearing the Headmaster's voice again calmed him somewhat. Perhaps he was over reacting a bit.
"Is there anything wrong, Harry," the Headmaster asked gently.
"No, sir," Harry answered. Unless you count everyone being drunk off their arses on fire whiskey, and all the books that I just nicked from the library, Harry thought. "Everyone is just acting a bit odd." He finally replied.
"That's to be expected I'm afraid. Everyone must grieve in their own way and in their own time Harry," the Headmaster offered sagely.
"Yes sir,' Harry answered. "I suppose that is what's going on."
"They grieve for me no doubt, but also for the loss of Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape," Dumbledore explained calmly.
The Headmaster's words struck a nerve. Harry set his jaw tightly and took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again. He nodded his head, though it was neither in agreement or denial of the words.
"I got a bunch of books from the library, sir," He told the man. "I'm going to work really hard between now and my birthday to learn about some of the things I'll need to know to fight Voldermort."
"Excellent, my boy," The Headmaster seemed genuinely pleased. "Excellent. May I suggest Graydian Crawlenton's, Protecting the Mind for Occlumency. It is a very helpful book on the subject.
"Yes sir," Harry responded. "I'll be sure I have it." Though Harry was gratified by the Headmaster's reaction, it wasn't quite what he had been expecting. It was almost as though the Headmaster had predicted this.
"Sir," Harry asked lighting upon a theory. "I have a question or two about Angelths," Harry cleared his throat. "Are you aware of what's going on even when I'm not communicating to you?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment as if weighing his response. "Now that both Angelths have been activated my only access to information is solely through the Safekeepers. When my soul was influx I had mobility and expanded awareness. I was able to view my own funeral for example and sense most peoples emotions."
"You were there?" Harry questioned in surprise.
"Oh yes dear boy. Hagrid and his brother Grawp presented a rather amusing image." The Headmaster chuckled a bit. "But now that both portions of my soul are in safekeeking, all my information is dependent upon what is offered."
"Okay," Harry seemed satisfied with this and nodded. "It just seemed like maybe you already knew about the books."
"Not at all dear boy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I assumed that like any good student you would wish to be prepared before lessons began. I anticipated the seriousness with which you would take your responsibilities, and am delighted my faith in you was well placed."
Although warmed by the Headmaster's praise, there was something about the words good student that made Harry slightly uncomfortable. There was a bit of a subtext here that Harry couldn't quite put a finger on. Had Snape and the Headmaster discussed this very thing? Had
Snape implied that Harry would be lazy and not take his training seriously while Dumbledore defended him. Harry could almost visualize this happening.
How many times had Harry been berated or punished for coming back after summer holidays with his assignments incomplete. Of course Uncle Vernon gave him hell and threatened to lock his trunk away any time he caught Harry lazing about with his nose buried in those freaky books. Of course Harry didn't share this information, and it was never taken into account when Snape had him scrubbing moldy cauldrons and called him a lazy, irresponsible dunderhead, Harry thought angrily.
"But while the Angelth only allows me access to information the Safekeepers provide," Dumbledore broke into Harry's thoughts. "It does allows me to contact you if I feel the need, and the Angelths will also signal if the Safekeepers are on the verge of breaking a vow
either with myself or each other. This signal is a slight warming of the metal that will grow more intense if ignored.
Harry thought about this, and knew there was no way he would ever make any kind of a vow with Snape, so breaking one would never be an issue.
"So, I should wear it around my neck then?" Harry questioned. "In case you want to get to get a hold of me."
"That would be preferable," the Headmaster acknowledged. "You may conceal it with a disillusionment charm," the older wizard advised. "Are you familiar with the charm?"
"Yes sir," Harry acknowledged. His thoughts drifting to another topic.
"Professor would it be okay if l told Ron and Hermione about you and the Angelth, they kept quiet about the Horcruxes?"
"In due time Harry, in due time," the Headmaster intoned.
Harry had hoped for more of answer. In fact he was getting bloody tired of all the riddles and half answers. Why not? He wanted to bellow.
"Professor?" Harry questioned instead, sounding very strained. "You are going to explain to me what the deal is with Sn- er Professor Snape, and why you still trust him even after I saw him kill you aren't you sir?"
The Headmaster paused for a long moment, and Harry was afraid he was going to get told off again. "It will all be made clear to you when the time is right, Harry. I am afraid you need to be patient a bit longer." the Headmaster said eventually.
Harry so wanted to argue with these maddeningly ambiguous answers.
"Was there anything else?" The Headmaster asked kindly, but it was clearly a dismissal.
Harry clenched his teeth. How the bloody hell do you get dismissed from a locket you are supposed to wear around your neck? "No sir," Harry ground out.
"Until next time, dear boy," the Headmaster said amiably.
"Good night then sir," He replied staunchly, closing the lid on the Angelth. "Bloody annoying little portrait," Harry bit out, fastening the Angelth around his neck and disillusioning it.
Harry sighed deeply and lifted himself from the bed. He canceled the Muffliatio and scooped up the pile of tiny books. He stowed them in a sock and tossed it viciously into his trunk.
Harry stormed mutinously into the common room.
"Oy 'arry," Dean called as he entered the room. "Got your drink right 'ere."
"Have you got a bottle mate?" Harry asked defiantly.
"Now you're talking," Dean slurred. "Got part of one right here," the boy proclaimed pushing a half full bottle of amber liquid in Harry's direction.
"Right then," Harry said, nodding curtly.
After canceling the charm on the stairway, Harry took the stairs to the girls dormitory two at time. He stopped at Ginny's door and knocked peeking in. Only Ginny wasn't there. But Seamus was. And he was snogging a fifth year girl who had a fat, round bottom and bucked
teeth.
"Hogwarts: A History mate," Seamus winked at Harry giving the girl's bottom a playful slap. Harry beat a hasty retreat amid girlish giggles and a proclamation.
"Ooh Seamus, you naughty wizard."
When Harry made it to Hermionie's dorm, he waited till he heard clearly drunken tittering telling him to enter before trying the knob.
Hermione's dorm mates were apparently playing the comedy version of exploding snap because they couldn't stop giggling long enough to finish a round. One girl motioned to the four poster on which the curtains were drawn.
"They're in there," she choked out between giggles.
"All three of them," chortled another.
"Eew gross," sniggered the third. "They're brother and sister."
Harry decided forever more these Gryffindor girls would be known as the three Pixies.
"Hermione?" he called for a rescue.
"Harry," Hermione cried pushing aside the curtains. "Get in here," the three Pixies were near hysteria as Harry climbed into the four poster over the unconscious forms of Ginny and Ron.
"Harry," Hermione informed him sternly as she eyed the bottle he had brought with him. "You are not drinking that! Get rid of it this instant," she commanded furiously. Harry attempted to ignore her.
"What's with these two then?" he asked indicating Ron and Ginny.
"They drank some of that," Hermione informed him sneering at the bottle of fire whiskey.
"Really," Harry whistled, eyeing the harmless looking bottle. "They passed out from one glass?
"No, they began to annoy me after one glass," she informed him waspishly. "And they passed out when I hexed them."
Harry gulped.
"Now get rid of it at once, Harry," she ordered. "I can't believe you and Ron brought that foul stuff up here."
Harry looked at the bottle a trifle sadly. "But, Hermione," he began. "Can't I at least have a taste? I've never had any before and..."
The girl pulled her wand and Harry braced for the worst. With an angry flick of her hand she banished the bottle. Harry looked at his friend a bit petulantly, but the bushy haired girl crossed her arms and gave him a haughty glare.
Harry spied a small glass of the amber liquid sitting on the night table. "Was that your bit then?" Harry asked slyly reaching for the glass.
"Harry, no!" Hermione cried shrilly flicking her wand toward the night stand making the small glass disappear.
Harry chuckled. "I was only jokin'," His eyeswere full of mischief.
"You were not!" she bristled.
"Was too," he countered with an amused grin. "Just then I was. Think I want to get hexed into next week?"
"For goodness sake, Harry," she scolded her friend harshly. "You have far too much too much responsibility to think of messing about like this."
"Take it easy, Hermione," Harry still amused, tried for a placating tone. "Don't go all Jr. Death Eater on me."
"Good job Malfoy and Snape didn't bring the Death Eaters back tonight. What if Voldemort was with them?" Harry paled slightly at this hypothetical. "They'd have the lot of us." the girl shook back her hair. "I can't believe you would even think about drinking that. Really, Harry what would Professor Dumbledore think?" finally Harry looked chastened. Satisfied, Hermione leaned back into the headboard and emitted an audible sigh.
"How long will these two be out then?" asked Harry, casting about for a change of subject. "You're pretty wicked, Granger. Hexing your best friends." Harry tried to look scandalized.
"Just a simple sleeping charm actually," Hermione tried not to laugh at his expression.
"You said you hexed 'em," Harry teased.
"I was trying to scare some sense into you," she informed him with an embarassed grin.
"Good job that," Harry smiled back. Then he had a sudden thought, "Hey, want to go to the library? I was going to go back later and sneak into the restricted section and try and find some information on Horcruxes and An..." Harry caught himself. "And other stuff that
might help with Voldemort."
"Well it's after curfew," she replied brightly. "But Harry that's a great idea. Do you have your invisibility cloak?" Harry shook his head "The restricted section..." Hermione swung her legs through the curtains, far too excited for Harry's taste. "You should have thought of that
before. There's bound to be some information."
"Well I had Dumbledore to teach me about it then, didn't I?" Harry replied a bit irritated as he got off the bed as well.
"Done already?" the Pixies squealed in unison.
"Why didn't you hex the three of them?" Harry asked seriously. "They're dead annoying.
"Oh but it's no good to wait for teachers to tell you everything," Hermione cheerfully stuck to the topic, heading out the door and down the stairs "Loads of stuff you just have to learn about on your own. Run ahead and get your cloak," she told him. "I'll just wait for you in the common room shall I?" Harry nodded and headed off.
Hermione's words bugged him. The words reminded him strikingly of what Dumbledore had said earlier about being a good student. Harry walked up the stairs deliberately and entered his dorm. But what was the point in having a teacher then if you were supposed to figure stuff
out on your own? Of course you had to read your text book he conceded but... This thought made Harry reflect honestly about how often he really read his text books. This year's Advanced Potions Making had been one of a rare few school books Harry had truly
studied. And he hadn't studied the book so much as the margins. Finding his invisibility cloak, he shoved it contemplatively in his pocket.
During the school year, when he didn't have Uncle Vernon to blame it on, Harry was a master skimmer, and scanner. Always relying on Hermione to point him right if he failed to grasp the finer points of something. He could understand researching things if you were
curious about them, like he and his friends had done first year with the Sorcerer's Stone and trying to find information on Nicholas Flemell.Extra work was also resonable if one was trying to get out of working with a greasy murdering bastard like Snape. But why would anybody want to spend time doing extra work for a class at school just for the heck of it unless--the thought hit him like stunning curse as he met Hermione in the common room-- you were a good student. Harry remembered last year when Hermione had argued with Umbridge about the Defense Against the Dark Arts book because she disagreed with it. He also remembered this year in Potions when he had been clever enough to find a bezoar and Hermione had been clever enough to study and understand the text.
"That's what you do isn't it?" Harry picked up their conversation where it had left off before he'd gone upstairs. "study as much as can about subjects like Charms or Transfiguration to learn everything you can?"
"Well of course" Hermione gave him a look as though it were a silly question.
For some reason Harry felt slightly foolish and ashamed. Hermione's words from that day in Potions replayed in his mind now. "You have to understand the principles this time. No shortcuts or cheats!" Snape had called him a cheat too when he punished him for using the
Potions book and cursing Malfoy with the Sectumsempra.
Harry tried desperately to push all these self recriminations out of his mind as he and Hermione exited the portrait hole to hear the bellow of Argus Filch just down the hall.
"I'll skin ya alive," he wailed as he limped-ran as fast as he could down the hall after two snickering Slytherin third years.
Harry and Hermione supressed a giggle as they threw on the cloak.
Once in the library, Harry set Hermione to begin looking for books on Horcruxes and said he was going to the front of the stacks to look up something the Headmaster mentioned recently.
"Harry," she suggested. "We should check out the main library as well and find some books on wandless magic and things. I know some good ones on non-verbal spells as well that I studied during the term."
"Ron and I already picked some out when we were hear before," He explained.
"Harry, I'm so proud of you. Your taking this really seriously," she gushed. "And you know I'll help all I can."
Harry took a moment to let his friends pride wash over him and try not to feel like a dunce. "Thanks Hermione," he said sincerely.
After forty-five minutes Harry had found one book on Angelths and Hermione had given up. Harry had spelled the cover to read All About Defense and the inside to list random counter curses.
"I'm sorry Harry. I'm drawing a complete blank over here," she sounded slightly defeated as she joined him and looked at his find. "All About Defense," she murmured looking at the first few pages. "Doesn't look very helpful that."
"Hmm," Harry made a not committal noise. The real title was Angelths: Magic, Myth and Mystery and Harry thought it looked really helpful.
Just then Hermione noticed a short stack of books on and old wooden desk in the corner.
"Wonder if those are anything? she pondered, speaking more to herself than Harry. And after examining the stern little missive that lay a top the pile she called his name a trifle unsteadily.
"What is it?" He asked approaching
Hermione handed him the faded parchment and Harry's eyes narrowed.
Headmaster,
the memorandum began
These books have been defiled by young Severus Snape of Slytherin.
As this is not the first time this second year student has abused the
books in this library, I feel it appropriate that his parents made to pay
for replacement copies and the boy be severely punished.
Sincerely,
Elvira Pince
Reference Library Witch
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
There were three volumes in all and Harry's hand shook a bit as he reached for the first, expecting to find the darkest of dark magic books. Harry jaw almost hit the floor when he saw the first title. Protecting the Mind by Graydian Crawlenton. Harry quickly looked at
the other two titles. One was called The Nature of Prophecy and the other The Light in the Darkness. Harry flipped the one on Occlumency open to the middle. The margins were filled with a familiar cramped script.
"Hermione, I think I should take these," He told her.
"Harry your joking," she breathed. "They must be dark--"
"No 'Mione look," Harry held up the first book. "This ones on Occlumency. And besides it's one Dumbledore said was real good on the subject."
"When did he say that?" Hermione wanted to know.
"A bit ago," Harry told her non-commitally. She didn't have a chance to argue.
"Well, well," said an oily voice. "Taking things that don't belong to us are we?
Both students whirled around and stood face to face with Argus Filch, who was wearing the most evil grin Harry had ever seen on the crooked yellow teeth.
"Well many a slimey spawn has slipped my net tonight mind," the Caretaker rasped, "But darned if I didn't catch two of the biggest fish in the place. Potter and Granger," he laughed gleefully. "Caught red handed stealing books."
"Shite," Hermione whimpered.
"Language Miss," Filch tsked. "And you up for Head Girl next year too. I'm afraid you two are in for it. And without the Headmaster here to stick up for you..."
"Shut it! You vile, filthy piece of..." Harry raged. Hermione gripped his arm warningly.
"Temper, temper," cooed Filch. "No. Headmistress McGonagall has never been shy about disciplining you precious Gryffindors. And she's in a right state she is. What with all the mischief you brats have been up to tonight. Oh dear no," he clicked his tongue. "She won't be pleased with you two at all..."
"Petrificus Totalus," Harry shouted desperately.
The Caretaker's body turned a slightly iridescent blue as he fell flat on his back.
"Oh Harry," Hermione whimpered. "Oh dear." Harry leaned over the immobile form.
"And let's not forget that the Headmaster isn't here to protect you either," Harry taunted menacingly, looking into the alert, but frightened eyes. "You impotent little Squib. Not to mention that you won't have Snape's arse to stick your filthy nose up." Harry toed the
form lightly in the ribs.
"Harry that's enough," Hermione ordered firmly. Her sharp tone releasing him from the darkness that was threatening to envelop him.
"What are we going to do now?" she questioned desperately. "We can't leave him. Oh, Harry we'll be expelled."
"Well, I wasn't coming back anyway, remember," Harry reminded her as he walked over to retrieve the three books from the desk and the one he'd found on Angelths. He shrunk them down and slipped them into his the pocket of his trousers.
"That works out for you I suppose," Hermione admitted, very near tears. "But we can't just hide him Harry, Professor McGonagall is bound to find out."
Hermione was right. McGonagall was bound to find out. And student or not, the thought of being confronted by McGonagall over this mess scared the hell out of him.
"Right then," He turned to Hermione having come to a decision. "You get under the invincibility cloak."
"But what about you?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Shush," He warned her gently. "Don't come out no matter what all right?" He told her making sure she was fully covered.
"But Harry..." she began anxiously.
"It's all right Hermione," he soothed. "You'll be back at school next year if you want. And you'll be Head Girl too if I have anything to say about it."
Harry turned to Filch and raised his wand.
"Finite Incantantatum," the Caretaker arose on unsteady legs looking shaky and frightened.
"Obliviate," the man's expression flickered briefly from confusion to menace.
"Potter," The man focused on Harry and purred with oily sweetness. "In the restricted section of the library. The Headmistess will be very interested to learn about this, very interested indeed." then he noticed the wand in Harry's hand. "How dare you draw your wand on me you cur," the man snapped, taking Harry by the ear. "Put it away this instant."
"Sorry sir. Sorry." Harry squeaked obediently stowing his wand in his pocket.
"I'll be reporting you for that too, I will," the Caretaker threatened happily as he led the boy by his ear.
Harry allowed himself to be lead thus, squirming appropriately and offering apologies. At one point even begging with tears in his voice not to be taken to the Headmistress. Filch was enjoying himself immensely. After an evening of being outsmarted and outrun by these brats, here was the Boy-Who-Lived at his mercy. Oh the Headmistress would be livid. He cackled with glee as the rounded the corner to Gryffindor tower. Just then the brat broke free of his grip and pulled his wand.
"Obliviate," Harry incanted facing him and slipping his wand quickly up his sleeve.
The Caretaker's expression made a brief excursion from confusion to anger.
"Potter," he sneered menacingly. "What are you doing out of out after curfew?"
"Out for a walk sir?" Harry offered doubtfully.
"Out for a walk is it?" Filch spat, latching on to Harry's now very sore ear once more. He dragged the boy back around the corner and fairly threw him at the Fat Lady's portrait. "Well you can walk around in there," the man stated venomously as Harry muttered the password.
"Yes sir. Sorry sir." Harry mumbled in falsely chastened tones allowing the portrait to remain open longer than it would have otherwise.
"At least I caught the brat before he could get up to any mischief," Filch muttered to the Fat Lady in a satisfied tone before storming down the hall.
"Oh Harry, you were brilliant!" exclaimed Hermione as she threw off the cloak an gave him a huge hug. She pulled him toward the stairs to the girl's dorms. The party had calmed down a bit in the Gryffindor Common Room and many students were either lying in undignified
heaps snoring, or staring stupidly into space.
"Oy 'arry," Dean, the Bartender, croaked from his place on the floor.
In Hermione's dorm room the Pixie's had thankfully succumbed to sleep. They lay together in a gangly pile on the four poster amid a pile of exploding snap cards and an ever increasing layer of drool.
Hermione revived Ron and Ginny and delighted in the retelling of their adventure for the entertainment of their stunned friends.
"I thought you might be cross with me using that spell," Harry questioned at one point.
"Well, desperate times..." Hermione countered with a wicked grin. "Oh, but Harry," she laughed again. "You sounded so convincing when you pretended to be scared."
"I was scared," Harry admitted. "I had no idea if the spell would work. I've never done it before."
"No," Hermione corrected. "I mean when he had you by the ear and you were begging him not to take you to Professor McGonagall. Oh please Mr. Filch," Hermione began in a fairly accurate imitation of Harry. "Don't report me to the Headmistress, sir."
The four friends laughed hysterically.
"Oh my favorite part is when you called him a weak little Squib with his nose up Snape's arse," Ron wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I would have given anything to have seen the look on his face."
"Wow!" Ginny shook her head in awed way. "I can't believe you Obliterated the git. Twice."
"Nor can I," Harry admitted. "Professor Lockhart would be so proud," he said pompously. "I'd better get started on my memoirs."
"And your smile," Ginny added, hitting him squarely in the face with a pillow.
Although the pillow fight that ensued was well fought, there was no clear victor. The laughter continued until sleep overtook them, and the four Gryffindors collapsed on Hermione's four poster in an untidy heap of arms, legs, feathers, and friendship.