Chapter 6
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe. I'm just playing with it.
"I don't know how I got here, like I said," Harry began. "Last I remember I was at Hogwart's. I was on my way to a training room we found. Next thing I know I'm here. Stupefied. And tied up." This last, Harry said with a mild glare. His shock over the events of the last few minutes was beginning to fade and he was beginning to get angry again at the whole ridiculous situation. "Are these ropes really necessary?"
The man looked at him for a moment, clearly searching his face for a clue to Harry's intentions. He then nodded and said, "Alright." He waved a wand and cancelled the incarcerous spell. Harry couldn't see which wand he used. The man's or … his.
"A training room. Where is this training room?"
"On the seventh floor."
"The Room of Requirement?"
Harry felt no shock at the man's words. Of course the man would know of the Room. This bloody mystery kept getting stranger and stranger. He was about ready to run screaming into the night, if only to escape from the whole thing.
"Yes."
"What were you going to do there?" the man asked intently.
"Well, I remembered something that Dobby told me a few weeks ago. That when the Room appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs. I had an idea of how the Room could help me with a problem. My friends and I had formed a DADA study group…"
"The Defense Association. Dumbledore's Army."
"… um, yeah…" Harry simply gave up trying to hide anything from this man. He was worse than Dumbledore. "… because the DADA professor is terrible. We're just reading from the book and it's really useless. No practical work, no spells and it's our OWL … year." Harry's words trailed off at the look of anger, disgust and sheer loathing that passed across the older man's face.
"Umbitch."
"Huh?"
"Dolores Umbridge. Your DADA Professor."
"What? No! My professor is Dawlish. John Dawlish." Harry followed this with a look of loathing of his own. "He's supposed to be this highly respected Auror, but you couldn't prove it by me. And he's certainly no teacher. I can't believe they made him a High…" Harry's words trailed off to a whisper when he saw the look of disbelief on the older man's face. Unknowingly misinterpreting it, he went on.
"Anyway… my friends elected me the leader of the DA, the teacher. But that's been really bothering me, because I have idea of how to do that. Be a leader. Everyone's counting on me and I can't get it out of my mind that I'm going to fail them. And then I had the idea that maybe the Room of Requirement could give me something to show me. How to be a teacher and a leader. So I went to the Room. But … the next thing I know I'm here." This last was said with a note of both puzzlement and petulance.
A look of first startlement, then astonishment and finally chagrin appeared on the older Harry's face. As if the idea of doing such a thing was totally dumbfounding. Harry felt a momentary sense of satisfaction at having done something that the older man didn't seem to have thought of.
And then the feeling passed, when his stomach growled.
Really loudly.
Harry's face turned red in momentary embarrassment as the older man smirked.
"How long since you've eaten?" he asked.
"Well, it's been five or six hours since the Halloween Feast. And I didn't eat that much, since this problem's been bothering me."
"Well, I think we can find something to fill you up." The man turned right and headed towards a doorway that likely lead to a kitchen.
He stopped abruptly.
"Halloween." He muttered.
"Samhain." He said in a tone of wonder.