Chapter 13

So Much Pressure

"RETURN TO HOGWARTS" SAYS HARRY POTTER

"The Boy who Lived," Harry Potter, encouraged students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to return to the school for the new term, which begins September first. Mr. Potter was spotted on Diagon Alley shopping for his school supplies. As the Prophet previously reported, Mr. Potter has decided to return to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year, despite the death of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in June. Mr. Potter is rumored to have had an especially close relationship with Dumbledore, and it was unclear whether he would return for the new term.

Many students have decided not to return to the venerable institution due to safety concerns. While the interim headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, has assured the public of the safety of the school, not all new or returning students are convinced. The Prophet has learned that currently far less than fifty percent of last year's students plan to return.

Mr. Potter, however, clearly stated his belief that students should return to the castle in an unplanned speech given to approximately 150 shoppers who crowded around "The Chosen One" when news of his presence spread. Initially attempting to step through the crowd to begin his shopping, Mr. Potter found this to be impossible, as the enthusiastic crowd continued to detain him with words of support and encouragement. Finally Mr. Potter determined that he would say a few words to the crowd in order to satisfy it.

Initially thanking the crowd for its support, Mr. Potter went on to state, "I realize that many students may not be returning to Hogwarts, and I understand their fear. I would just like to say, that I would encourage all entering and returning students to come back to Hogwarts. We must not allow our lives to be controlled by fear. I know that we must be cautious, and I am satisfied that Hogwarts has taken all appropriate measures to ensure the safety of the school as far as possible. No place is perfectly safe, especially your own homes, but I believe that Hogwarts will be as safe a place as any. If a large portion of the student body should refuse to return, then (He Who Must Not Be Named) will have won a significant victory." The crowd received these remarks with enthusiastic applause.

It should be noted that Mr. Potter said the name of He Who Must Not Be Named without fear or hesitation, shocking and impressing many in the crowd. More than one onlooker stated that Mr. Potter reminded them of Professor Albus Dumbledore, who also spoke the dark lord's name routinely and without fear. This reporter heard several witches reconsidering their decision not to send their children to Hogwarts this year.

Harry flipped the Daily Prophet on to the kitchen table and continued with his late breakfast. After the exhausting overnight adventure with Professor Snape, Harry, Ron and Hermione found places to sleep, and did not awaken until late morning. Hermione had received her copy of the newspaper, which each of them read in turn.

"Should have mentioned that you are Head Girl," complained Harry, directing his attention to the eggs and sausage prepared by Dobby.

Ron finished reading and also tossed the paper aside, commenting, "I bet quite a few students will change their mind because of this."

"Don't be daft," Harry scoffed, "Who cares whether I'm going back or not. People will make their own decisions."

"We'll see, Harry," chuckled Ron, "I know a lot more about how wizards and witches think than you do."

The two boys heard a "humph" come from the direction of Hermione whose bushy morning hair peaked out from behind the Daily Prophet.

"Oh, that's just great!" she complained under her breath.

"What?" the two males asked simultaneously.

Hermione peered over the top of the Prophet and realized that she had spoken aloud. Reluctantly she folded the newspaper to the portion she was reading and set it in front of them. Immediately they saw the photograph of Harry and Hermione smiling at each other just after Hermione had conjured the box on which Harry stood. Taken out of context, the two in the photo looked for all the world like more than mere friends. Below the picture ran the headline in the gossip section of the paper: THE CHOSEN ONE'S CHOSEN ONE? Harry noted that Hermione appeared rather put out by the unwanted attention, but he could only laugh.

"Well, you have to admit, that's a pretty clever headline: 'The Chosen One's Chosen One?' That's really quite good." Harry and Ron both looked at the frown on Hermione's face, which combined with the uncontrolled bushiness of her shoulder-length brown hair soon proved too much for them to take. They first broke into a chuckle, glanced at each other, and soon laughed so hard that Hermione could not help but smile and laugh along, even if not as enthusiastically.

"You may not think it's so funny when you read what they wrote," Hermione commented as the laughter died down, "Here."

Ron snatched the paper and read aloud: "This photograph was taken at the impromptu appearance of Harry Potter at Diagon Alley yesterday (see page 1 for details). The subject of Harry's amorous eyes is none other than Miss Hermione Granger, long rumored to be Harry's significant other. Miss Granger, Harry announced with evident pride, has been appointed to the prestigious position of Head Girl at Hogwarts. In the Spring, readers will recall, The Chosen One was reported to have won the affections of one Ginny Weasley, daughter of Ministry official, Arthur Weasley. Apparently as the seasons change, so do Harry's girlfriends. Oh to be young again!"

The smile had in fact left Harry's face, but after giving the matter consideration for several seconds, he simply could not bring himself to worry about it.

"Oh well, it could have been worse," he said off-handedly, "At least it mentioned that you are Head Girl. I thought the other article should have included that." Glancing at the photograph again, he added, "And it's really not a bad picture of us."

Hermione stared at Harry as if he had finally lost his mind, asking, "What about Ginny, Harry? She reads the Prophet; she's going to see this."

Harry shrugged his shoulder and responded, "What about her?" Seeing Hermione's expression turn even more disbelieving, Harry explained more seriously, "Look, Ginny gave me an ultimatum that she shouldn't have. Now she has to live with the consequences. I have more serious things to worry about than that."

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the others spoke about his sister and at the realization that the wizarding world now believed that Harry and Hermione were boyfriend and girlfriend. Even if he knew this not to be true, it still unsettled him.

"Look," Hermione exclaimed, bringing that topic to an end, "it's already late and I need to go home soon. What my mum would say if she knew I stayed alone in a house with two boys, I don't even want to imagine."

"We are upstanding boys, at least," Harry joked.

"And we're both tall and reasonably good looking," Ron chimed in.

"I'm rich and famous, and Ron has lots of connections in the magical world. We have our qualities." Harry and Ron laughed again at their inspired silliness (at least they thought it inspired).

"Yes, yes, you both have your qualities," Hermione huffed with a smile, "and you'd both have flunked out of Hogwarts if I hadn't let you copy my work."

"And would you have wanted that on your conscience, Hermione?" Ron asked with a horrified expression, giving his best Fred and George impersonation.

"Enough already!" Hermione shouted laughingly, "I really have to go soon. What are we going to do now? You know what I mean."

Harry wished that he could simply forget about it all, at least for a day, but inevitably, reality returned.

"I think we need to find Amelda Barlow," Harry suggested, "Snape didn't help us much with the Regulus Black thing. Barlow may not know anything, but she's the only lead we have for the moment."

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Remus Lupin and Harry sat at the kitchen table eating some pastries provided by Dobby and sipping their tea. They had managed to avoid discussing anything of importance for a good five minutes, trying to remember a time when every decision they made did not have life or death consequences. Harry knew already that Remus and Kingsley Shacklebolt had been designated as joint leaders of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus managed to stop by each day since Snape's capture, even if only for a few minutes, and Harry knew that the situation with the Order had gradually improved. Finally their enjoyable chat gave way to more important affairs.

"Have you found anything about Amelda Barlow?" Harry asked. He had previously consulted with Remus in this regard, though he did not explain the reason he needed to find her. Remus recalled the name but could not picture her at all and as far as he knew had never exchanged a word with her.

"Nobody in the Order knew her, though a few recalled the name," Remus answered, "It seems that everyone in the Order either attended Hogwarts before or after Barlow and Regulus. McGonagall remembered her a little, but has no idea what became of her. I have someone checking on it. We'll find someone from that Ravenclaw class and see what comes of it. If that doesn't get us anywhere, we'll do some snooping at the Ministry, but we like to keep that to a minimum if possible. How important is this, Harry?"

"Could be extremely important, or could be a dead end," Harry responded, "but either way we need to know. I really appreciate your help."

"I don't know how you three did it, but capturing Snape has been a huge morale booster for the Order," Remus commented, reciprocating Harry's appreciation, "We just can't figure out why Voldemort is holding back. So far Snape has said nothing about it, and we haven't resorted to more, shall we say, creative interrogation methods. We can have another round with the veritaserum in a day or so."

Harry nodded and grabbed another pastry from the exquisitely carved silver platter on the table. He looked at the platter more closely and sighed.

"I guess Mundungus missed this one. Pretty much cleaned out most of the silver, not that I really wanted it, but it does upset me when I think about it. Is he still in Azkaban?"

"Yes, and we are going to leave him there for now." Remus informed him, "Actually we have a lot of the items Dung stole; he hadn't been able to sell much of it. To tell you the truth, I had forgotten all about it. Other things on my mind, you know. I'll have someone dig it up, and I'll bring it by sometime.

Harry was pleasantly surprised by this news, as he had written off the treasures stolen by Mundungus Fletcher as gone forever.

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The next morning Hermione and Ron arrived in the late morning, and as usual Hermione provided her copy of the Prophet.

"Look at this," she exclaimed excitedly, handing the newspaper to Harry. Both Harry and Ron noticed how nice she looked that morning, with her brown hair under control and pulled back, make-up on, and dressed in a slightly revealing tight-fitting red blouse and even tighter-fitting black jeans. The two boys glanced at each other briefly but made no comment. Harry read the headline.

HOGWARTS ENROLMENTS INCREASE DRAMATICALLY

In response to the Prophet's inquiry, representatives of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have reported a surge in re-enrolments and new enrolments for the new term, which begins in two days. One week ago, it appeared that a mere forty percent of students enrolled last year were planning to return, while the incoming class promised to be the smallest in memory. As the Prophet has reported throughout the summer, many students and their families have expressed concern at the security of Hogwarts Castle following the death of the respected and magically powerful headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

The sudden, late increase in enrolment appears entirely due to the words of Harry Potter, "The Boy Who Lived," reported in the Prophet earlier this week. As the reader will recall, Mr. Potter addressed a crowd of onlookers at Diagon Alley and took the opportunity to encourage students to return to the school, just as he has elected to return for his seventh year. Interim headmistress, Minerva McGonagall now estimates that between seventy and eighty percent of last year's class will return, and the incoming class will amount to roughly seventy percent of normal.

"That's incredible!" Harry exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief, "That's ridiculous! That's incredible AND ridiculous!"

Ron laughed. "I told you I knew how witches and wizards think. Looks like you saved Hogwarts."

"I don't know why either, Harry. People should be able to make up their own minds," Hermione opined, her eyebrow raised, "but this time, it's all for the best, isn't it? I mean, if only forty percent returned, the castle would have been empty. There's still going to be a lot of extra elbow room."

"I wonder who's not coming back?" Ron mumbled through the left-over breakfast roll he was munching, "I'm sure Padma and Parvati won't. Their parents wanted to take them out last term."

"You're probably right, though I think most of the Gryffindors will return," Hermione guessed, "but I bet there won't be any Slytherins, or only one or two. What's wrong Harry?"

While Ron and Hermione had been discussing Hogwarts' enrolment, Harry still focused on the fact that so many people seemed to place such importance on his words. Suddenly an extra pressure weighed down on his shoulders, and his green eyes squinted. So many people depending on him. So much disappointment when he inevitably fails. The only solace Harry could find was that he would be dead and not have to witness it.

Ron and Hermione waited for him to say something. He looked at them, and they saw fear in his eyes - fear of failure.

"There's just so much pressure. All these people. . ." Harry muttered as he waved a hand at the Daily Prophet strewn on the kitchen table. He threw himself into a chair, and slumped down.

For once Hermione could not think of anything to say. All the pressure fell on Harry. Nobody would remember Ron or her if they failed; the history books would record the tragic failure of Harry Potter. Ron and she would be nothing more than footnotes. She glanced at Ron and they shared a knowing look. They both worried about Harry, and when he was not with them, they discussed it freely and often. Something had changed in Harry, first after Dumbledore's death, and then after destroying the horcrux in the museum. He seemed in a good enough mood, at least on the exterior, but something was missing. His vibrant green eyes had dulled a shade. Now she knew at least part of the cause. So much pressure.

Ron finally broke the silence, "You can't worry about them, Harry. They don't know anything. We can only do our best and then see what happens."

"This isn't quidditch, Ron," Harry snapped, "If I fail, everyone dies. That's a little different from losing the Quidditch Cup. Why do they all look to me? They don't know about the prophecy. All they know is that Voldemort tried to kill me when I was a baby and left me this stupid scar." Harry brushed his hair away to reveal his most famous feature.

"They know a lot more than that, Harry," Hermione countered, concern glistening in her eyes, "They know that you were there when Voldemort returned. They know that you were telling the truth even when everyone made you out to be crazy, even when the Ministry tried to discredit you. They know that you won the TriWizard Cup even though you were underage. Now they know that you can say the name, Voldemort, without any effort at all, not like the rest of us. You are a great wizard! You can't pretend that you are not. We all can see it. We can feel it."

"All I see is a crowd of disappointed faces as they look at my dead body," Harry shot back, pessimism dripping from his voice, "Is that what being a great wizard means?" Harry felt like bolting from the room, but something kept him in his seat, waiting to hear Hermione's counter argument.

But instead Ron spoke, "Yes, if that's what happens. You are DOING something, Harry, while everyone else sits in their homes, placing wards and spells on their houses hoping that nobody comes their way. Only a few of us are actually doing anything, and you are doing more than anyone." Ron voice was strong and blunt, the way only a best friend can speak. "You killed that horcrux, and I know that when we find another, you'll kill that one too. That's what being a great wizard is, Harry, not what a bunch of cowards hiding in their houses think."

Harry found himself quite impressed by Ron's words, despite his bout of self-pity.

"All right, I know I'm being dramatic, but I'm just not used to this. All my life I was a nobody, and I hated it. Now I'm so bloody important and I'm 'somebody,' and I hate that too. We still have so far to go; it's like climbing a mountain that never ends. And in two days we go to Hogwarts, and I don't even want to go, but now I'm some hero who told everyone to come back to school. Maybe I was stupid saying what I did at Diagon Alley. I'm not so sure the castle is safe; what if something happens? What if some kids are killed? It will be on my head."

"It's not all about you, Harry," Hermione reminded him, "A lot of people are in the battle, Ron and me, everyone in the Order, even a lot of people in the Ministry. We either win together or we fail together. Let us share the burden."

Harry eyed Hermione up and down and a smile came to his lips.

"OK, but on one condition. You have to tell us who the lucky bloke is."

"What are you talking about?" a confused Hermione asked.

"I don't know a lot about girls, that's for sure, but I know when a girl fixes her hair, puts on make-up, and wears clothes so tight she needs a shoehorn, there must me some boy involved," explained Harry with a sly grin.

Ron wished to lighten the mood as well, so he added, "That's right, Hermione, I know you think that we are completely brain-dead, but even we noticed that you're all dressed up today. So who's the lucky fellow?"

"Just because I decided to look nice today doesn't mean I'm going out with a boy," Hermione huffed, "and it's not any of your business anyway."

"Why don't you ever get dressed up for us and fix your hair. Aren't we worthy?" Harry teased, trying to egg her on. Getting Hermione riled was one of their favorite pastimes.

"Well, why should I go through that trouble for you two? You see me all the time anyway."

"Right you are," Ron agreed, "but that means you are seeing a boy today. What's the occasion?"

Hermione shook her head and frowned, but deep down enjoyed the attention of her best friends, who seemed to be showing just a hint of jealousy.

"Well, if you must know, I'm going to a birthday party with several of my muggle friends, and I wanted to look nice. I need to be leaving in a few minutes so that my mum can drive me there."

"OK, but who's the boy," Harry insisted, "some old muggle flame?"

"Oh, you two are impossible," ranted Hermione, stomping her foot, but she realized that they knew her as well as she knew them. "There's a boy that I used to like in school before I came to Hogwarts, and I've only seen him a couple of times since. He's going to be at the party, and I thought I'd try to look my best, even if that's not all that great."

Harry and Ron knew that Hermione was fishing for a complement on her appearance, and in fact she did appear quite stunning. Instead of her normal stud earrings, she wore golden loops, and on each wrist she bore golden bracelets, where normally she wore only a functional watch. Harry decided that he had better say the right thing.

"Well, you do look very nice," he confirmed, but then realized that she could infer that she normally did not look nice, so Harry quickly added, "Of course, I always think you look nice, it's just that today you look nicer." He looked pleadingly to Ron to help him out.

"Right," agreed Ron, "We're just not used to seeing you look like this."

"So is that a bad thing?" asked Hermione, enjoying the trouble her friends were having trying to pick the right words.

"No," Harry replied, "as far as I'm concerned, you can dress like this any time you want." Harry reconsidered his words, thinking that Hermione might believe that her normal clothes were shabby, so he again added a caveat, "Of course I think you always dress nice. I mean, you don't have to dress like this all the time, it's just. . . Oh why did I even bring this up?!"

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When Harry entered his bedroom the night before he was to leave for Hogwarts, he found that his trunk had already been packed by Dobby. Harry shook his head and checked in a few drawers to assure that nothing had been left behind. As to be expected, everything he needed could be found in the trunk packed as neatly as if his Aunt Petunia, an obsessively neat packer of clothes, had done it. In past years, Harry always suffered the chaos of the Weasleys, whether at the Burrow or at Grimmauld Place, but this time he would be in no rush at all to reach the Hogwarts Express. At ten minutes to eleven in the morning, he would merely walk outside, and when out of view of any muggles, he would apparate to the designated site at Kings Cross. Apparation was a wonderful thing, even if he hated how it felt, much like many muggles feel about flying in airplanes.

"Dobby," he called, and in a moment the house elf appeared. "Thank you, Dobby, for packing my trunk. You really didn't have to do that for me."

"Dobby likes doing things for Harry Potter. Dobby likes being busy, and there is not much to do in this big house with no people. Packing is easy for a house elf." And to prove his point, Dobby squinted his bulging eyes, waved his hand, and all of the contents of the trunk scattered about the bedroom. With another wave, the clothes, books and sundries immediately flew back in. Harry shook his head in appreciation, knowing that the spell used by wizards to pack lacked the efficiency of a house elf's wave.

"I wanted to talk to you anyway, Dobby. I think you should go to Hogwarts tomorrow. Grimmauld Place will be empty, and you can keep yourself occupied. Also, I may need your help while I am there, and having you in the kitchens with the other house elves can be a great way for me to know what's going on at Hogwarts." Harry quietly added to himself, "I don't think McGonagall will be as forthcoming with me as Dumbledore was."

The house elf clearly felt pleased with this plan.

"Oh yes, Dobby already planned to move to Hogwarts. Dobby thinks Dobby can help Harry Potter, like Dobby did last year when Dobby followed bad master." Harry recalled that Dobby and Kreacher tailed Draco Malfoy for him.

"Also Dobby, there will be times this term when I will be leaving Hogwarts either by myself or with Ron and Hermione. Sometimes I may want you to come too. I want you to be ready at all times."

"Yes, Harry Potter, Dobby will always be ready." Harry had another thought.

"Dobby, remember when we talked about Regulus Black?" Dobby nodded his head. "I know you weren't around here all the time, but do you remember a friend of his called Amelda Barlow?"

"Oh yes, Harry Potter, Dobby remembers Miss Amelda, a good friend of Regulus Black. Dobby liked Miss Amelda, always nice to house elves. Mrs. Black did not like Miss Amelda, not at all."

"Well, if she was nice to house elves, I'm sure Mrs. Black did not approve." Harry commented, "Do you know how we could find her?" The house elf screwed up his eyes.

"The Barlow family was not a rich family, but the Barlow family had one house elf, Lefty. Dobby has not seen Lefty for many years, but Dobby thinks he can find Lefty when Dobby goes to Hogwarts. Other house elves know Lefty."

"Great!" Harry responded with a smile, "I would like you to do that, and let me know as soon as you find Lefty. I need to find and speak to Amelda Barlow."

As he prepared himself for bed, Harry examined himself closely in the mirror. His hair had grown longer and messier than ever. Microscopic worry lines had formed around his eyes, and he needed a shave.

"Tomorrow I go to Hogwarts," he spoke aloud, not the least bit happy about it.