A/N: Not too many changes, mostly grammar, but has been fully beta'd.
Chapter 9: Return Home
That night, Harry was completely unable to sleep at all, and he roamed the halls of Number 12 Grimmauld Place like a ghost. Pacing back and forth from the kitchen to the library had gotten boring hours ago, and he desperately wanted something – anything – to do. Mrs. Black had long grown weary of his passing and she glared at him each time he crossed in front of her portrait, almost daring him to make an attempt at conversation so that she could ream him out for his annoying movements. Deprived of his ability to run, and her civil night time company – Harry didn't want to even think of talking to her when she was scowling at him like that – he turned to his one remaining solace of the night.
Music.
Slipping silently down the hall and into his room, Harry took a moment to gently ruffle a sleeping Hedwig's feathers affectionately. At least someone's sleeping. Harry thought derisively.
Turning to his beside table, Harry retrieved his CD player and slid the tiny speakers into his ears, hitting play. Instantly, the deep thrumming of a bass guitar reached his ears followed by the sharp tunes of drums.
Relaxing onto his bed, Harry let the music wash over and through him, carrying him away from his troubles. Music acted as a stress reliever for him, and he had been without it the past few days. Hermione had requested the use of his player the day after she and Ron had broken up, and Harry had been certain she would wear out the repeat button listening to his Tool CD. It was then that Harry had introduced her to "Break stuff" by Limp Bizkit and she had prowled her way through his CD collection after that.
Sharing something as personal as his music was a new, and slightly uncomfortable experience for Harry. Still, he was glad he had done it, since it had also served as a link between the two of them, bringing them closer to each other while separating them from Ron.
Ron, Harry was surprised to discover, was not on his mind as much as he had expected the redhead would be. In fact, beyond the times when the two of they were face to face, he rarely even crossed Harry's mind.
Harry pondered for a moment, wondering why that was so. Why weren't Ron's actions and words eating Harry alive like they should be? Not that Harry was complaining, he never sought out pain, but Harry would have expected the break in their friendship to hurt him more. After all, Ron was his best mate…wasn't he?
Trying to avoid the issue, Harry reached upwards, and threaded his fingers through the wild locks of his hair and gently disentangled Serin from where he was napping. The tiny adder didn't even stir beyond hissing softly and wrapping the tip of his tail around one of Harry's fingers.
Softly, Harry ran a finger along Serin's body, stroking him nose to tail. Harry had run his finger up Serin's spine once, and had been severely reprimanded for it. Apparently, doing so had caused Serin's scales to dig into his skin painfully, and the peevish reptile had informed Harry in no uncertain terms that the next time he did that; Serin would bite him. While Harry had been unsure as to how much Serin had meant that threat, he had, nonetheless, refrained from causing his familiar any more undue pain.
Stroking Serin's head, Harry was surprised to feel a bit of the skin stick to his thumb and come away, revealing glossy black scales underneath.
A thrill of panic shot through Harry before he realized that Serin was simply shedding. Intrigued, Harry lifted the palm-sized serpent to eye level and began to inspect him. Close observation revealed a film over Serin's eyes, as well as a marked difference in his scales luster that became apparent with the emergence of the new scales on Serin's head.
Taking the tip of one fingernail, Harry placed it against his familiar's sleeping form and softly drug it down his length. The scales came off easily, and Harry began to remove the scales in earnest.
It was when Harry turned Serin over to get at the scales on his stomach that the reptile finally awoke.
"Sstay away!" The adder exclaimed, wriggling in Harry's grasp, frantic to escape.
"Sserin!" Harry hissed, trying to restrain the writing reptile. "It's me, Harry! Calm down, I've got you."
"…Harry?" Serin asked warily, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. "Iss that really you?"
"Yess, Sserin, it'ss me." Harry assured him. "I wass just getting your sscales off."
"What?" Serin asked, twisting his head around to stare down the length of his body. "Iss that why I was sso itchy?"
"Musst have been. Do you sstill itch?" Harry removed a bit more skin from the end of Serin's tail.
The reptile squirmed a bit in Harry's grip. "Not ass much."
"Let'ss get the resst off, it might sstop itching then."
"Ssure, hold your hand sstill."
Harry obeyed, and Serin searched around a bit until he found one of Harry's fingers that had a nail a bit longer than the rest and began to forcefully rub his head against it.
"Sserin?" Harry asked nervously, when the reptile scraped his eye against Harry's nail. "Are you ssure that'ss ssafe?"
"I need to do this" Serin replied without stopping. "I can't ssee properly."
"Are you ssure…"
"Jusst hold sstill."
Harry did so, and after a few minutes, Serin managed to remove the scales from his mostly neglected head.
"Much better." Serin said, before attacking the spots on his body that Harry had overlooked. After ten minutes of concentrated attention by both Harry and Serin, the last of the old scales peeled away to reveal glowing dark brown and black scales that shone in the moonlight.
"Beautiful." Harry told him, reverently touching the new scales.
"Thank you, Wizard-mine. I feel much better." Serin sounded vastly relieved.
Harry grinned. "No problem, it wass kinda fun."
A companionable silence stole over the two of them and they sat there comfortably in the dark, neither of them willing to break the peace Harry had managed to find.
Eventually, Harry sighed and reached over the bedside table, and lifted Ginny's good luck charm from the polished surface. Placing Serin in his lap, Harry ran his fingers back and forth across the smooth curve of the shell. Absently, Harry wondered what kind of creature lived on the inside of the delicate spiral, and how it had died. Natural causes, perhaps?
Harry snorted. Being killed by another creature was natural. So was being pulled out of your shell to be consumed by humans. Harry hoped that hadn't been the fate of this poor creature. Maybe it died of old age? Perhaps it had lived many happy years and had lots of little spiral-shelled babies. Not that it mattered. In the end, it was still dead.
Wasn't that how things were with people as well? You lived, you died, and anything else you did in the intern was inconsequential? Well, Harry frowned, perhaps not inconsequential, but…maybe inevitable. After all, how else could there be prophecies?
Harry didn't like his prophecy at all. No, not one bit. Who would? Harry couldn't think of a single person that would want to be in his shoes and be the one who is destined to either destroy or be destroyed by Lord Voldemort. The things that man did for pleasure…Harry shuddered.
His night time terrors had only gotten worse with his arrival at Grimmauld Place, and Harry was looking foreword to going back to Hogwarts in the morning. Now, instead of simply dreaming of Cedric's demise and the evil cackling laughter, Harry was confronted with Cedric's blood-stained corpse that spoke to him without words, accusing him of standing by and allowing Voldemort to kill him.
Then Cedric would shuffle slowly up to Harry where he was rooted to the ground and oh, so slowly, raise his arms and place them gently against Harry's neck in an almost-caress before grimy fingernails would dig into his skin and he felt a warm liquid pour down his chest.
Harry would stare dumbly down at his body, unable to comprehend that the flow of liquid was his own blood until it reached the ground and mixed with that of Cedric's that was flowing from Cedric's own gaping wound in his throat.
Harry would look up into Cedric's eyes and be caught in them, drowning in their depths until he woke, shaken and sweating from his own bed, Serin inevitably hissing in his ear soothingly.
Harry hadn't mentioned the dreams he was having to Dumbledore. He felt mildly guilty for that, after all, hadn't the Headmaster been very forthcoming with information concerning Harry and the prophecy? He'd even told Harry to keep the communication thingy so that he could always ask to see Dumbledore, even if he was unable to get to the Headmaster's office. Still, these were his personal demons, and Harry couldn't help but feel they were his to deal with.
Sighing, he looked down at the shell cradled in one hand and was unsurprised to discover that he had taken to petting Serin with his other. As much as the serpent loved to be petted, Harry liked to do it. The soft purring sounds Serin made were soothing to Harry and it wasn't uncommon for Serin to be in Harry's hands during their night-time ramblings instead of being hidden in Harry's hair.
Glancing about the room, a needle of amusement pricked Harry's' bubble of melancholy when he noticed the bits of snake skin that was scattered across his bed. Probably should clean that up before morning. Wouldn't want somebody to come in here and see the shedding.
Sliding the shell into the pocket of his over sized jeans, Harry plucked his wand from the bed side table, twirling it about in his fingers momentarily before pointing it at the cast-off skin with a flourish and announcing softly, "Scourgify."
The skins vanished and Harry couldn't help but look at his wand for a moment in satisfaction. Despite the fact that he'd been taking magical classes, staying in a magical school, and basically being immersed in magic for the past five years, it had not taken away some of the sheer joy and amazement Harry felt at the little things magic could do.
Of course, being able to do magic was secondary to being allowed to do magic. And the Ministry had a monopoly on that at the moment, which was why Harry had been so excited to find that spell in the library.
Harry let out a sigh of enjoyment as his Linkin Park CD spun around to the song "Numb" and he sat back, allowing the tune to wash over him.
I'm tired of being what you want me to be,Feeling so faithless,
Lost under the surface.
I don't know what you're expecting of me,
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes.
Well, that rather described Harry at the moment. I mean, what do they want me to do about Voldemort?
Every step that I take is another mistake to you.
Ron will never be happy with me.
I've become so numb,
I can't feel you there.
Become so tired, so much more aware.
I'm becoming this.
All I want to do is,
Be more like me
And be less like you.
Why can't they just accept me for who I am? Why does everyone I know insist upon forcing me inside of this pre-labeled box that they have? Why can't Ron like me for me?
Harry shook his head as the rest of the song played out. Here he was, back where he started, thinking about Ron. Just where he didn't want to be.
I wish I could find a way to bring music with me to Hogwarts. It seems to be one of the only things making me feel better these days. Harry stared down moodily at his player as it spun brusquely in a circle. A thought struck him and he sat up straighter in his bed. Well, why not? There's a spell for all sorts of things, why not something to allow electronics to work around a high concentration of magic? …Something like a magical field reduction spell or something?
Harry's mind whirled in circles as he slipped from bed and shuffled his way down the hall. Absently giving Mrs. Black a nod, Harry disappeared into the Library and began scanning the titles.
ooOO00OOoo
The sun rose slowly and shone its unexpected light upon the page in front of Harry's nose. Having spent the majority of the night in the Library once again, Harry's eyes were feeling a bit worse for wear and he rubbed at them from under his glasses. How Hermione does this day in and day out I'll never know. Harry thought, slowly gathering the books scattered across the tables and putting them back in their places. I wish I could have found something. But I guess that was just too much to ask.
Books put neatly away, Harry shuffled listlessly out of the Library and into the dining room where he offered, and was turned down, to help Mrs. Weasley cook breakfast.
Shrugging, Harry wandered up to his room and finished the last of his packing, storing his player carefully in a cushioned pocket of his trunk. A hot shower later, during which Serin got soap in his scales and Harry was highly amused, he was back downstairs in time for a quick breakfast before the usual return-to-school dance began, with everyone passing in the halls, frantically searching for some lost item.
Two hours later, the whole family was packed into the sidewalk and beginning the ten minute trek to the train station. They had to pause several times for various members to return to Grimmauld Place and get some item that they had left behind and absolutely needed to have with them for their first few days at school.
Sirius had insisted on coming with them in his animagus form and Harry was a little peeved with him for it. Their late-night talks had revealed to Harry the deep seated frustration and boredom that Sirius was suffering from, which led him to feel a little sympathetic to the escaped convict, but that didn't stop him from being worried that someone would see Sirius and recognize him. After all, he had made quite a spectacle of himself two years prior in his quest to bring Wormtail to justice for the betrayal of Harry's parents to Voldemort, and his animagus form was rather well known now.
After a tearful good bye to Mrs. Weasley, and several promises to write and be good, Harry and Co. finally managed to escape onto the train and begin the search for a compartment to call their own.
Unfortunately, their goodbyes had taken far longer than they had hoped, and there wasn't a single compartment open. Ron had jokingly stated that they could just kick some firsties out of a compartment, but that had been met with black scowls and mutterings from Ginny and Hermione, while Fred and George thought it a grand idea, even to the point of diving into their bags of tricks in search of a dung bomb.
"That'll clear them right out!" one of them announced cheerfully.
"Yeah, and keep us from going in." Ginny had replied scathingly, causing the twins to wilt.
While Hermione dragged a very reluctant Ron off to the prefect's meeting, Fred and George wandered off to find their best friend Jordan, and Ginny and Harry settled into the only available compartment, one with a single occupant; a Mrs. Luna Lovegood.
"Hi, Luna!" Ginny said brightly, bouncing into the compartment and flinging herself down next to the girl. "How was your summer?"
"Fulfilling." The girl replied. "Me and my father were hot on the trail of the tri-nozed buzzlegumph, and we saw a quarkle, but our camera was too slow to catch it on film."
"Really?" Ginny said vaguely, mind obviously on other things. "Come in, Harry. And have a seat. Harry, this is Luna Lovegood, she's in my year. Luna, this is Harry."
"Hi." Harry said, waving at the girl a bit nervously. She had a strange air about her, as if she saw things no one else did. The newspaper that she held in her hands was upside down, and an oversized necklace of Butterbeer caps was strung about her neck on a bit of unassuming twine.
"Harry Potter?" Luna asked, and Harry cringed. Here was another person bound to be in awe of him for something he'd done as a child.
"Yes?"
"Have you seen a crumple-horned snorkack?" She looked at him with vague politeness, though her eyes were interested.
"Umm…" Harry wrinkled his brow. "No, I don't think so. What do they look like?"
Luna gave a tiny sigh and smiled bravely at him. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me that."
Ginny laughed and shook her head, causing her hair to swirl about her head alluringly. "Don't worry about Loony, she asks everyone that question when she first meets them. Sometimes even before she knows their name."
Luna lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and brought her newspaper up and hid behind it, humming something that sounded disturbingly like Darth Vader's death march.
Harry leaned over to Ginny and whispered in her ear. "Loony?"
"Isn't it obvious?" She whispered back, giggling a little. "She's a bit loony, and her name is Luna Lovegood."
"Sshe ssmelless nice." Serin informed him, in reference to Luna. "Like outsside."
Just then, the door opened and the cart lady stood in the hallway, her cart full of sweets dragging behind her. "Sweets from the cart?" She asked, kindly not staring at Harry.
"Yes please!" Ginny said, jumping up and digging into her pocket for her stash of coins.
While Ginny was busy buying sweets, Harry addressed Serin. "Ssmellss like outsside? How sso?"
"Like dirt and growing thingss. Not like dust and black blood like the One That Knows."
"What?" Harry shifted a bit on his chair when he saw Luna peeking over the top of her newspaper at him. "Who is the One That Knows, and who has black blood?" Harry struggled to keep his voice soft, but hissing like a snake was rather obvious, even with all the noise Ginny was making.
"You are friends with the One That Knows, she spends all her time with the thin, dead trees, and spreading black blood over them with bird's feathers."
Harry shook his head and pondered his familiar's words. He knew that words were different in parseltongue, after all, there just weren't words for some things. From what Serin had said, he figured that 'black blood' was really ink and the 'thin, dead trees' was paper. But who was the 'One That Knows'? The rest sounded like Hermione, but why would Serin give her that name?
"Are you talking about Hermione?" he asked.
"She's at the prefect's meeting, Harry."
Harry looked up to meet the piercing eyes of Luna. Apparently, she had lowered her newspaper and was staring intently at him.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, bewildered. Since when did Luna speak parseltongue? He thought only him and Voldemort had that ability.
"You were hissing to yourself, then you said Hermione's name. I thought you were asking where she was, she's at the prefect's meeting."
"Hissing?" Ginny closed the door behind the cart-lady and sat back down across from Harry. "Harry, were you talking to yourself in parseltongue?"
"Uh, yeah. I do that sometimes." Harry said uncertainly, he hadn't expected to get caught talking to Serin. But perhaps this was a good thing, if he let it known that he talked to himself in parseltongue, then he could talk to Serin whenever, and no one would be the wiser. Hopefully.
"Since when?" Ginny asked, offering him a chocolate frog.
"Er, this summer." Harry accepted. "I started as a way to frighten Dudley, since it isn't something that the Ministry can track, but I found that it was fun to insult them to their face and not have them know." He wished he'd actually thought of that, it would have been fun.
"Bad family?" Luna asked, sounding disinterested.
"Yeah. They're Muggles and they don't like magic." Harry really didn't want to get into that.
She nodded her head gravely. "Damnant quod non intelligunt."
"I'm sorry?"
"We condemn what we do not understand." She clarified, before lifting her newspaper once again and reading it….sideways?
Ginny looked at Harry before shrugging and diving into her small mountain of sweets.
"Yes, that is the One That Knows." Serin spoke into the silence.
Harry nodded his head, wishing that he dared ask what other people's names were, but he didn't want to start talking parseltongue again, Luna was still peeking at him from behind her paper every once in a while.
Taking a chance, he whispered, "Thankss." Before tilting his head and resting it on the window pane, watching, disinterested, as the countryside sped by.
He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Ron and Hermione were in the middle of a shouting match, with Neville Longbottom trying desperately to calm them down while Ginny clutched tightly at her wand, looking almost as if she were about to hex somebody. Luna sat in the corner, a dreamy smile plastered on her face as she watched the ensuing chaos, unconcerned.
"Well, that wasn't very nice of them, was it?" She commented absently to him, one hand reaching up to fiddle with her Butterbeer cap necklace.
"What?" Harry asked blearily, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, but Luna only smiled.
Abruptly, the door do the compartment slammed open and Pansy Parkensen stalked in, flanked on either side by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle "Would all of you just shut up?" She demanded of them crossly.
"Hey! Don't you tell us what to do, Slytherin!" Ron bristled and spat his the word 'Slytherin' as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"I happen to be proud to be a Slytherin if it means I'm not a dinky Gryffindor like you! Two prefects, standing toe to toe and yelling at each other for the whole train to hear, both of them just awarded their prefect status, and one of them the Brainiac herself!" Hermione flushed. Pansy folded her arms around her well-sized breasts and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. "Are you two done here so the rest of us can carry on our conversations, or are you going to continue to scream at each other like two year olds?"
"You can't stop me from talking!" Ron cried, sounding exactly like a petulant two year old.
Harry tried to stifle his laughter, truly he did. Or, at least he put the tiniest amount of effort into stopping it. But, it wasn't enough, and soon he was roaring with laughter at Ron, Hermione laughing right alongside him.
Ron flushed angrily, his complexion approaching the flame-red of his hair. "Shut up, you!" he yelled angrily, his voice rising in volume. "I don't have to take this garbage from you. You're nothing but a back-stabber anyway." He tossed his head and glared at Harry. "Why don't you—"
"Enough!" Pansy raised her wand, when had it gotten in her hand? And cast a 'silencio' upon Ron, leaving his mouth working soundlessly while his face got redder and redder. "If that's what it takes to shut you up, that's what you'll get. C'mon guys, let's leave the rabble to their games." Crabbe and Goyle uncrossed their arms from where they had been standing imposingly on either side of Pansy and followed her to the door of the compartment. Just before they exited, she turned back to look back inside the compartment and spoke into the room. "Do us all a favor and leave him that way the rest of the trip, hmm? He's much nicer this way." She grinned, unashamedly at Ron and slid the door closed.
It was only as everyone was disembarking from the train that Harry realized Malfoy had not been with them.
ooOO00OOoo
"What are those?"
"Hmm?" Hermione looked around, distracted, as she strove to collect all of the second years and herd them into the horseless carriages that took the upper years to the castle.
"Those!" Harry insisted, pointing his finger at the empty space where a horse would normally be.
"Harry," Hermione examined the space where he'd pointed, "there's nothing there."
"Yes, there is." Harry insisted. "I can see them. They're this…" he seemed to struggle for words as he stared intently at empty space. "Horse-thing. They've got four legs, a head and tail, and scales. With these bat-type wings on their backs and, I swear, fangs. What are they Hermione? Why haven't we seen them before?"
"Harry," Hermione explained patiently, "there really isn't anything there."
"Then why…" Harry stared, dumbfounded, at the creatures hitched in teams of two to the front of the wagons.
"Don't worry." Luna's dreamy voice floated up to them from behind. "I can see them too. They've always been there."
Somehow, that wasn't comforting.
"You can see one of Luna's crazy creatures?" Ginny asked Harry disbelievingly.
"Yes, I—what? No! I just..." Harry waved his hands about helplessly.
"Oh, for heavens' sake! Stop stalling and get into the carriage already! You're holding things up. Go on, shoo!" Hermione flapped her hands at them as if herding a flock of birds.
"All right, all right…" Harry escaped the fluttering hands and warily walked around the scaly, winged, fanged, horse-things and entered a carriage, sitting gingerly on one of the seats.
He was tense the whole ride, half expecting the horses to take off and drag the carriage behind them through the sky like the horses from Beauxbaton had drug their carriage.
Flying on a broom was one thing, it was relaxing when he wasn't competing for the snitch, but flying in a carriage being drug by demented horses from hell would be anything but relaxing, and Harry was anxious to keep that off his list of things he'd accomplished in his lifetime.
Alighting safely at the other end of their trip, Harry quickly entered Hogwarts, Ginny, Neville and Luna at his back, as he tried to put as much distance between him and the hell-horses as possible. Luna waved casually at them and wandered over to sit at the Ravenclaw table, people snickering as she passed, though she appeared not to notice.
As the rest of the group sat down at the table, Hermione pulled Harry off to the side for a minute. "Harry." She said, "You need to tell professor Dumbledore about Serin."
"What? Why?" Harry frowned. "You know I don't want a lot of people knowing about him, it's not safe."
"I know, Harry." She insisted, "but you really should tell him. Professor Dumbledore isn't just anybody, and it is his school. You know the rules about pets."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, I know the rules, just as I know that they don't mean much. I mean, seriously, what about Scabbers, bastard that he is? He was allowed to stay as a pet besides the fact that he wasn't a cat or a bird. So what does it matter?"
"It matters, Harry, because you have to show the Headmaster that you trust him, or he'll have no reason to trust you. It's a two way street you know. He won't tell you anything else that you need to know if you aren't willing to share information with him." Hermione looked at him earnestly.
"Wh-what are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked. Had she heard about the prophecy somehow?
"Nothing, just…you need to tell him. Tonight." She glanced around and saw the doors to the great hall open with Professor McGonagall leading the first years in to be sorted. "Oh no! The first years are here, hurry!" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him back to Gryffindor table where the two of them flung themselves into their seats barely in time. Still, they got a stern look from McGonagall as she passed by them and they knew they'd been seen talking away from their table before the feast.
The Professor set the Sorting Hat down on the stool and the whole school listened silently as the hat piped up, speaking about house unity and how each house was an asset to the name of Hogwarts, none of them were higher than the other. When it was done, the first years were sorted, and Gryffindor received 10 new members to welcome into its ranks.
Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and announced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a Mrs. Dolores Umbridge.
"Hey! That lady was at my hearing!" Harry cried sofly. "She said that the things the Prophet was saying about me were true, I didn't like her much."
Hermione actually turned her attention away from what the Headmaster was saying and studied the toad-woman sitting at the head table. Everyone else was soon paying attention to her as well when she actually interrupted the Headmaster and began speaking. That didn't last long, however, for she was quite as boring as Professor Binns was and small pockets of conversation soon cropped up all around the room.
Only Hermione, a few Ravenclaws, the odd Hufflepuff or two and, surprisingly, Draco Malfoy were still paying attention at the end of the woman's speech.
What's wrong with Malfoy, anyway? Harry thought as he looked at the Slytherin. He didn't show up to bother us on the train, and he hasn't looked my way yet! And it was true. Draco Malfoy was keeping to himself, looking neither to the right, nor to the left as he listened intently to what the talking toad was saying, Crabbe and Goyle sitting at his sides as usual, but not as close as they once had.
To Harry's eyes, Malfoy looked both more and…less…then he had at the end of last school year. There was something different about him that was as indefinable as it was undeniable. From where he sat at the Gryffindor table, Harry could see a large ring twinkling on the ring finger of Malfoy's right hand. Though it was too far away for Harry to see properly, he'd bet a galleon on the fact that it bore the mark of the Malfoy family. His school tie as well had a new piece of jewelry, a pin centered on the middle of his school tie that looked like a closed eye. Those two pieces of jewelry stood out from the normal fair of students and Harry wondered how long Malfoy would be allowed to wear such gaudy things. They certainly weren't under the list of accepted jewelry for students.
Harry gave a purely mental snort. You'd think that a Malfoy would have better taste.
"Interesting." Hermione said as the Headmaster stood up once more and continued with what he had been saying before the toad interrupted him.
"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "She was worse than Binns!"
"Well, maybe if you had listened, you'd know that she got the job only because the Headmaster couldn't find a Dark Arts teacher in time and the Ministry forced her on us." Hermione sniffed.
"Hey, I heard about that." Neville said, "Something about her providing on-the-ground feed back to the Minister?"
"Yeah." Ginny said as the headmaster sat down and the feast began, "Seems that the Minister thinks Professor Dumbledore is training himself an army of students to take over the Ministry of Magic."
"What? That's ridiculous." Harry protested, filling his plate with foodstuffs. "Dumbledore has turned down the job of Minister before, why would he need an army to get it now?"
Hermione shrugged as she took a bite of her food, chewing it carefully and politely. "Nobody said our Minister was logical." Coming from Hermione, that was a huge insult.
That neatly summed up the general consensus on the Minister of Magic, and talk soon turned to other things, mainly Quidditch, and who had a chance of beating whom to win the Quidditch cups this year.
At one point, when everybody's attention was elsewhere, Hermione leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear.
"Harry, you have to talk to Professor Dumbledore about Serin."
"You've said that before, Hermione."
"Well, you know I'm right." She insisted.
"Yes, you're right, and I'm going to talk to him after the feast." Harry conceded, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.
Mollified, Hermione left Harry alone after that and the two of them continued their first meal of the school year in relative silence. Afterwards, Harry was left to cool his heals in the Great Hall while Hermione and a reluctant Ron let the first years to the Gryffindor common room and showed them their rooms.
After fifteen minutes or so, Hermione returned and the two of them headed up to the Headmaster's office to tell/ask the Headmaster about Harry keeping Serin as his familiar.
As they rounded the final corner that led to the Headmaster's office, Harry accidentally bumped into someone leaving Professor Dumbledore's office.
"Sorry, Harry." They said absently, and then stepped around him to continue on their way.
"Excuse me." Harry replied, and continued to walk on, only stopping when he noticed that Hermione was no longer at his side. "Hermione?" He queried, turning to look at her where she appeared to be rooted to the spot, her eyes gazing back the way they had come with her mouth open in a small 'o' of surprise.
Making his way back down towards her, Harry asked, "Hermione? What's wrong?"
"Harry, do you know who that was?" She asked softly.
He shrugged. "Some student. What does it matter?"
"He called you 'Harry'."
He shrugged again. "So? I'm the boy-who-lived. Everyone knows my name."
"Yes, but, Harry." Hermione insisted, finally turning to look at him. "That wasn't just anyone, that was Draco Malfoy."
ooOO00OOoo
Harry stared at Hermione a moment before shaking his head and silently walking away.
"What? Harry, what was that for?" Hermione called after him, hurrying to catch up. When she was finally at his side, she heard him hissing softly under his breath. "Harry?"
"Just hang on, Hermione. I've got to explain to Serin why Dumbledore needs to know about him, he doesn't trust the Headmaster." Harry explained before continuing to hiss softly.
"What do you mean he doesn't trust the Headmaster? Harry," She put a hand on his arm and pulled him to a stop. "What do you mean?"
Harry sighed and hissed something to Serin before turning his attention once again to Hermione. "I don't know, Cat, I don't know why. He just doesn't. Serin says he can't explain it. Something about smell?" His voice trailed off, rising at the end as his face took on a look of contemplation. Shaking himself, he looked back at her before starting to walk again. "It doesn't really matter. Serin says that he'll abide by our decision that Dumbledore needs to know, as long as we understand that when things go belly-up, he told us so." Harry rolled his eyes heaven word before giving Hermione a cheeky grin.
Glancing upwards, Hermione noticed that they'd finally made it to the Headmaster's office, and were now stopped in front of the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Sheepishly, Hermione glanced around. "I don't, uh. Suppose you know the password, do you?" She asked Harry in a tiny voice, chagrined at her lack of foresight.
"No." Harry commented off hand as he fished about in his pocket. "But I've got this." Withdrawing his hand, Harry presented Hermione with the communication device that Dumbledore had given him. "He said I could call him with this." So saying, he lifted the object to his mouth and spoke, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "Headmaster? Me and Hermione are standing outside of your office and we've got something to talk to you about before the year starts, would you mind letting us in?"
Hastily removing the object from in front of his mouth, Harry stuffed it back into his pocked unceremoniously as the gargoyle leapt aside and Professor Dumbledore was revealed to be standing behind it.
"Of course Harry, Hermione, come in." Dumbledore turned to the side in the doorway and gestured for the two of them to proceed him up the winding stairs to his office. A few short moments later, the three of them were seated, with cups of hot cocoa passed around for general consumption. "Now, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, leaning backward in his chair and steepling his fingers.
"Well, uh." Harry said, stumbling over his words. Confidence in Dumbledore's answer had brought him up here, but faced with somber blue eyes, he was suddenly unsure. "You see, this summer…I…uh,"
Hermione released a huff of annoyance. "What Harry is trying to say, Professor, is that Harry went and got himself a familiar over the summer."
"Indeed." Albus looked at Harry, eyes twinkling again. "Is this true?"
"Yes, sir." Harry answered, his voice small and soft.
"And what manner of creature is your familiar?" The Headmaster questioned softly.
"An Adder." Harry said, straightening slightly. Now that the initial admittance was over, Harry's confidence returned. It was always the initial parts that made him giddy.
"Indeed." The Headmaster repeated, resting the first fingers of his still steepled hands against his chin thoughtfully. "When did this happen?"
"The night I ran away."
"Ah." Albus nodded. "So you've had this familiar for your entire stay at the Headquarters, am I correct?" he tilted his head down a bit and peered over his spectacles at Harry.
"Yes, sir." Harry said, feeling guilty for not telling the Headmaster sooner.
"Hmm." the Headmaster's brow furrowed thoughtfully.
"In Harry's defense," Hermione piped up, "he didn't know how anyone would take Serin, what with him being a snake and Harry a parseltongue. He thought everyone would accuse him of going dark, and he thought it best to keep things quiet until he could figure how things would go."
"Yes, I can see how you would be concerned about that, Harry, but I must say I am rather disappointed that you only came to tell me about your familiar after Mrs. Granger here prodded you into it. I presume that is what you were talking about when you pulled him over to the side earlier this evening?" Albus directed his question at the new Gryffindor prefect, who blushed slightly.
"Yes, sir." This time, Hermione's voice was small.
"Well, this needs a decision, doesn't it?" Albus said energetically, sitting up in his chair. "Is your familiar here? May I see it?"
"Yes, sir." Harry said, reaching his hands towards his hair, the Headmaster's eyes following them with surprise. "Here." Harry removed a grumpy Serin from his hands and moved to hand him to Dumbledore. When the Headmaster made no move to accept the small reptile, Harry settled for cradling the serpent gently, unsure as to what to do next.
Albus reached up with one wizened hand and adjusted his spectacles to rest higher on his nose and looked through them at the tiny reptile. "Yes, indeed. An Adder, you say? Most interesting." He turned his head and gestured vaguely at Fawkes, his phoenix, who had been remarkably silent since the trio had entered the room. "If you would be so kind?" He asked.
Fawkes gave a quiet trill before spreading his wings and gently flying over to land on Harry's shoulder. "Quiirr?" he trilled, cocking his head to the side and staring intently at Harry.
Serin lifted his head from Harry's hands and hissed. "What iss that?"
"A phoenix. His name is..." Harry shrugged, knowing there would be no translation in parseltongue and he'd have to speak in English. "Fawkes."
"What was that, Harry?" Albus asked.
Harry looked up at the headmaster. "I was telling Serin that Fawkes is a phoenix and what his name was, but," he lifted one shoulder in a strangely elegant gesture, "there is no translation of Fawkes into parseltongue, so I had to say it in English."
Serin flicked his tongue out. "He ssmellss like fire and…ssomething elsse. It reminds me a bit of you."
"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"Yess, though I don't know what it iss. Just…" Serin bobbed his head back and forth in helpless gesture "that it ssmellss like you do ssometimess."
"What are you saying, Harry?" The Headmaster asked again when Fawkes trilled softly and rubbed his beak gently against Harry's cheek.
"Well, Serin was saying that I smell a bit like Fawkes, or that he smells like me, I guess. But only sometimes." Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly to show his lack of understanding. "I don't know where he gets that though." Harry turned his head slightly and looked at Fawkes with one eye, warry of his sharp beak. He'd seen what that beak could do to the Basilisk that had been hiding in the bowels of the castle on his second year. "What do you think?" he asked.
Trilling again, the phoenix hopped from Harry's shoulder, down his arm to rest on his lap where he was roughly eye-level with Serin. "Quiirr?"
Serin lifted his head higher, hissing, and Harry found himself strangely unable to understand what was being said.
Fawkes and Serin carried on a miniature conversation right there on his lap, with Hermione staring at them, intrigued, while the Headmaster smiled on above them all.
"What are they talking about?" Hermione asked softly.
"I don't know." Harry responded, bemused.
"What do you mean, you don't know? Can't you understand Serin?" Hermione asked rather sharply.
"Not really." Harry said with a shake of his head.
"That is not unusual, my dear." The Headmaster spoke as he took a sip of his cocoa. 'When a wizard, or witch, is lucky enough to speak the language of any particular animal, he or she usually picks a familiar of that same species. But when two familiars converse, as Fawkes and – Serin, was it? – are doing, they do so on a different level of understanding than that which occurs between a familiar and their bonded."
"Wizard-mine?" Serin asked, as he and Fawkes finished their conversation. Fawked took off and flew over to Dumbledore where he landed, crooning in the old wizard's lap.
"Yes, Sserin?" Harry reached up and gently stroked Serin, eliciting a soft purr.
"May I go with the phoenix tonight? He hass offered to take me. Ssayss he can sshow me ssome nice placess for mice."
"Of coursse." Harry said, startled. "What made you think you had to assk my permisssion? You can leave whenever you like."
Serin chucked slightly under his breath. "Jusst assking."
"Hmm, well then, ssure."
Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore fondly stroking his familiar's bright scarlet plumage.
"Fawkes has informed me." The headmaster stated. "That Serin is a very polite snake, and he would be happy to have him here on the grounds. Apparently we have been having a horrible infestation of mice, and he has been hard-pressed to keep them under control this summer, and is looking forward to some help from Serin."
"Uh, Sir?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Does that mean…"
"Yes, my dear." The headmaster nodded gently. "Serin will be staying with us on the for this semester. I must congratulate you on an excellent hiding place for him, very well thought out. Few people mess with that hair of yours, my dear boy, and it is expected to be messy and untamable. Anything thought of moving in your hair will simply be passed off as one of those quirky things about your hair." His eyes twinkled merrily. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you didn't actually ask for him to be able to stay here, either. He was going to stay, regardless." He didn't make it a question.
"Uh, well…" Harry ducked his head and stared at the ground, while Hermione suddenly found the wood grain of Dumbledore's desk absolutely riveting.
Albus chuckled. "Then it is fortuitous, that he is to have Fawkes' approval, yes?"
Both Harry and Hermione simply nodded, neither raising their eyes to look at the Headmaster.
"Another fortuitous event," Albus continued, "Was your arrival here tonight. I was not planning on telling anyone this, but upon reflection, it seems to me that I would not be remiss in informing the two of you as to the events of tonight."
Curiosity raised both pairs of student's eyes to lock onto the Headmasters'.
"It seems that Voldemort has been active once again, this time in a raid upon Azkaban." Gasps accompanied his announcement, with Hermione's hands coming up to cover her mouth, eyes wide. "Indeed. It seems, however, that he was not completely intent upon rescuing his fallen followers. Oh, he rescued a few. A very few." He waved his hand about, seeming to indicate something outside of the room. "But his main goal appeared to be Lucius Malfoy." Albus watched while Harry's eyes narrowed, and Hermione's blanked out, revealing her brain working at it's rapid pace. "Voldemort has achieved some form of control over the Dementors, perhaps by promising them the ability to hunt freely at night once again. However he did it, they obey him now, and tonight they performed a most gruesome thing upon Lucius."
"Did they kiss him?" Harry asked with a growl, hoping it was true.
"No." Hermione said, a horrified look on her face. "No, they didn't kiss him at all, they did something much worse." She turned sightless eyes to stare out the window. "They gave him an Embrace."
"A hug?" Harry replied, flummoxed. "What's so bad about a hug?"
When Hermione didn't answer, Harry turned to the Headmaster, but found no information forthcoming, as Dumbledore was currently looking at Hermione with an odd, contemplative, look on his face.
"From a Dementor?" Hermione continued after a pause. "When a Dementor kisses you, it steals your soul. For a while, your soul is stored inside of it, where it sucks out your good memories, leaving you only with the bad. But once the good memories are gone, it steals the bad as well, weakening the soul to the point where it becomes nearly insubstantial and the Dementor is unable to hold onto it anymore. This is when the soul slips away and is reborn, nearly from scratch, with none of the old memories, good or bad, cluttering it up. But when a Dementor Embraces you instead…." She shuddered in her seat and huddled in on herself, as if a Dementor was in the very room. "It steals away the very essence of who you are, ripping everything away, yet leaving the soul itself intact. When this happens, a bit of the Dementor's essence flows into the person. This bit of essence soaks in and eventually turns the person into a Dementor. How long this takes, we don't know, since it depends on outside factors, such as the actions of the person before they are Embraced. For some, it takes hours, or days. For others, years. But there is nothing to stop it, the persons' body becomes indestructible until such time as they complete the change, and after that, they are only susceptible to the patronus charm."
Straightening slowly in her chair, Hermione seemed to come to herself. After looking around a bit, she settled for staring down at the nails on her hands, absently rubbing at the ink smudges marring their sides. "That is why the Dementor's Embrace is so very horrible. With a kiss, you eventually escape, and are reborn. But since Dementor's cannot be destroyed, the Embrace is permanent, and escape: impossible."
Harry turned horrified eyes up to stare at the Headmaster. "And this happened to Draco's father?"
"I'm afraid so." Albus Dumbledore suddenly looked old beyond his years, his thin figure drooping in his chair. "Which is why I believe it imperative for you to leave Draco Malfoy alone for the rest of this year. I know that the four of you, including Ronald Weasley, have a history of conflicts, but it simply is not the time for such things. He has just had something deplorable happen to his family, and we owe him the time to grieve."
Harry and Hermione nodded amicably. "Of course." Hermione spoke for the both of them. "We'll leave him alone, but I don't know about Ron. The three of us are…" she paused, searching for words. "Not speaking at the moment, and haven't been for some time. Perhaps it is best not to tell him about Lucius Malfoy."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, with the mood he's in, he'll be more likely to use it against Malfoy than to keep it to himself."
"You believe so?" The headmaster questioned, frowning. "I'll have to look into this."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance. That wasn't what they had been hoping for it at all. How would it look if the Professor came down to referee their squabbles? No, that just wouldn't do. It would make the pair of them look like a bunch of whiny babies who couldn't handle their own problems.
"Please don't Professor" Hermione said respectfully. "It's just a schoolyard fight and we'll take care of Ron ourselves. We just don't think it would be smart to give him any more ammunition about any of us at the moment."
"It isn't that we think he'll use it on purpose." Harry said with a shake of his head. "It's just that when he gets mad, he doesn't think about what he's saying he just….grabs his biggest guns and goes charging in."
Albus leaned back into his chair and contemplated the youth's sitting across from him. "If you are sure…."
"We are, Sir." They said in chorus.
"In that case, unless the two of you have anything else to add, I believe it is almost curfew and you'd better hurry if you are to make it to Gryffindor tower in time. Best run along."
"Yes, sir." Hermione stood.
"Thank you, sir." Harry followed.
"Good night, children." The headmaster called after them as they shut the door behind them softly.
"Well, my dear." Albus addressed his phoenix familiar. "What do you think?"
Soft images shimmered in the forefront of his mind, and Albus nodded his head in agreement. "That is true, the two of them look to be much closer now that Ronald is out of the picture. I wish I had known about their split, however. I do hope it is not permanent; the three of them make an unstoppable team. It would be a shame to throw all of that away."
Again, Fawkes responded with an image. "Yes, Draco did seem older, somehow, when I called him up here tonight. Perhaps things will be different this year. The sorting hat was right, house unity must be our main focus this year, I've allowed it to be lax for far too long."
Fawkes trilled softly and leaned into Albus' caress. "Well, I'm glad that you have faith in me at least. I'll need it in the year to come."
ooOO00OOoo
Harry and Hermione were silent for most of their trip back to Gryffindor tower, both of them contemplating what they had learned.
Harry wasn't sure how to handle Draco Malfoy this year, but one thing was for certain, if what Hermione had said about the Dementor's Embrace was true, (and, honestly, when was she ever wrong?) then not even Lucius Malfoy deserved such a fate. Voldemort must have been in a true rage to have done such a thing.
"Hermione?" He asked softly as they waited patiently for one of the moving staircases to rearrange itself. "Why do you think Voldemort did that to Lucius?"
"I don't know, Harry. That's what I can't seem to figure out. It just doesn't make sense. Why destroy one of your most loyal followers so thoroughly? Surely, he must be worth more to Voldemort as a human than as a mindless, soul-sucking fiend."
Harry shrugged and didn't answer. What must Draco be feeling right now? To have his father turned into a Dementor! Harry shuddered slightly at the remembered creeping chill he had felt at Privet Drive.
Voldemort must truly be insane.
ooOO00OOoo
For those of you who are wondering, but unwilling to look for it on your own, I've posted a picture of an Adder for you to look at under my profile. Go see, go see!!
The idea for the Dementor's Embrace is not my own, sad to say. It comes from the wonderful author WoMo and the story of "Harry Potter and the Maw" Good story, go read! Anyway, I have PM'ed WoMo, asking for permission to use the idea, and it has been granted, so no grumbles about plagiarism from you people.