Chapter Fifty
Harry was sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts three days later when there was a bang so loud it shook the floor.
Several of the students screamed, jumping up from their seats and rushing to the door.
"Sit down all of you!" Professor Umbridge squeaked, rushing out the classroom.
"Yet another prank." Tracy said, breathing heavily, "It's pathetic."
"What are you rambling on about this time, Davis?" Daphne asked in a bored voice, pretending to read the text book.
"People need to accept that Professor Umbridge is in charge now, all this silly behaviour gives us all a bad name." Tracy said, sticking her nose in the air and flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder.
"And what about all of the crap that Umbridge has put students through?" Hermione asked, "Forcing students to carve into their skin!"
"If students have been punished they've no one to blame but themselves." Millicent said.
"Quite right." Tracy agreed, "And ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Mudblood, for speaking against our headmistress."
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored the situation. Harry wanted to say something, to defend his friend but it was no use; they were completely powerless against the Inquisitorial Squad and the best thing they could do was to keep their heads down.
The clock ticked on aimlessly until the bell rang, and they packed up to go to their next class. Umbridge had still not returned.
Harry couldn't help but grin as a large firework, shaped like a green dragon, zoomed passed them, leaving a trail of bright red sparks as it went.
"Professor there is another one in Charms!" A young Hufflepuff shouted to Professor Umbridge as she ran down the corridor, her pink hat had been knocked off her head at some point.
"There's another one in the Herbology store room." a seventh year Ravenclaw added to the already flustered looking Umbridge, who wiped her forehead and nodded.
"Right I will be on it straight away." Umbridge called, a wobble in her voice, "What are you doing out of class?" she demanded, spotting Harry.
"The bell has gone Professor." Pansy said innocently.
"Oh oh of course!" Umbridge nodded, "I hope you did your reading."
"We did." Harry assured her, "I think I saw another firework heading to the Great Hall."
Umbridge's lip quivered, "Next class, Mr Potter."
Umbridge spent the entire day running around chasing fireworks. A couple of times Harry saw Fred and George set off a couple more, when there was plenty of distraction. Harry had congratulated them quietly and told them, quite truthfully, that they were the best magical fireworks he had ever seen.
"We owe it all to you Harry." George grinned, setting off a little bouncing ball that left brightly coloured splodges of sparks where ever it hit, "The money you gave us has given us a great start."
Harry grinned, "You're very welcome, money well spent as far as I'm concerned."
"Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall said, sweeping down the corridor, "Further Transfiguration lessons tomorrow evening, at eight o'clock."
"Yes Professor." Harry nodded.
"Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley, I suggest you go and keep out of trouble, the second floor, left corridor seems quiet." Professor McGonagall smiled.
Fred and George grinned and darted off to cause a little more trouble.
"Minerva? Is there an issue?" Professor Umbridge said, trying to compose herself.
"Not at all, I was just informing Mr Potter his Transfiguration grades are still not up to scratch." Professor McGonagall told her.
"I believe that he has Transfiguration next, he should run off to class." Umbridge suggested.
Professor McGonagall smiled, "Well I would encourage him to do the same, only my classroom is filled with fireworks and I'm not sure I have the authority to deal with it."
Professor McGonagall swept off before Umbridge could say anything more. Harry couldn't help but grin as Professor Umbridge looked on the brink of tears before rushing off once more.
That evening as Harry climbed into bed he felt rather pleased with how the day had gone. He was tired and felt that he would never stop looking over his back any more, at least while Umbridge was around, but Fred and George must have let off hundreds of fireworks that day and not been caught, that in itself gave him hope for the future.
Every once in a while the water outside his window glowed brightly as a firework passed over head. It must have looked beautiful from outside; well, it would if the fireworks didn't keep spelling out rude words.
Harry fell asleep quickly, and almost at once found himself in the dark Ministry corridor again. He walked quickly down the corridor and rested his hand on the plain black door.
Open… open…
He pleaded, as the door handle twisted beneath his fingers and the door swung open.
"I shouldn't be here." Harry muttered to himself as he walked into a large circular room.
The room was empty about from a dozen or so doors lining the wall. He crossed over and opened the first door he came to, inside was several glittering machines, whirring and clicking.
Harry ignored them and headed straight for the door at the other end of the room. Once again the door opened and he was in a never ending room, rows of shelves towered over him, each one filled with softly glowing glass spheres.
Harry was just about to look closer when he felt something thump into his leg. He woke with a jolt, sending a stab of pain through his scar.
"What's this?" He muttered, reaching down to his leg and feeling a boot.
"Give it back Potter." Goyle growled.
Harry chucked the boot off his bed, "Did you throw that at me?" he snapped, annoyed at both the fact the Goyle has thrown a boot at him and woken him up from finally seeing what was in the Department of Mysteries.
"Yes." Goyle said with a sneer, "You were making noises in your sleep. Detention cleaning the front steps of the school, no magic."
"For making noise in my sleep?" Harry huffed.
"Yes. Malfoy can join you as well." Goyle laughed, "Tell him when he wakes up for me. You better get back to sleep Potter or you might end up with another detention."
Harry ignored him and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head. He couldn't pretend he wasn't pleased with having gotten further through the Department of Mysteries but he knew that McGonagall wouldn't be. The Occlumency lessons seemed to be making things worse rather than better, even on the rare occasions when he tried.
Harry sat awkwardly the next evening, in McGonagall's blank rooms, trying to avoid her eyes.
"You are hiding something from me Mr Potter, and not very well." Professor McGonagall told him, once she finished emptying her mind of memories she wanted to keep hidden, keeping them safe in the pensive, which Harry felt rather guilty over, "Do you wish to tell me know or wait until I find it out myself?"
Harry gritted his teeth, "It's nothing, Professor. Just worried about exams."
Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes, "Of course. Are you ready?"
Harry nodded and tried, with little luck, to empty his mind. Within a second memories were flashing through his mind.
"Your date with Miss Chang didn't go very well did it?" McGonagall sighed, "Are you still on speaking terms?"
Harry gasped for breath and nodded.
"I am glad." McGonagall said sincerely, "Young love is very precious."
Harry remembered what he'd seen in the pensive and quickly tired to push it to the back of his mind before McGonagall worked out that he'd spied on her memories.
"Again." McGonagall called.
Harry tried to push her out as she was once again flashing though his head. The Department of Mysteries was a clear as day in his mind, McGonagall pulled away quickly; Harry feeling though she had smacked his head off a wall.
"When was this?" She hissed.
Harry tired to come up with an excuse, "I… a while ago I think…"
"Mr Potter, do not lie to me." McGonagall hissed, "I have never seen you get that far before."
"Last night." Harry mumbled, "I had another dream."
McGonagall pressed her palm to her forehead, "This is getting out of hand. How often have you been practising?"
"I… I don't know. Often." Harry said, not daring to meet her eyes.
"Well when was the last time?" McGonagall asked, pacing backwards and forwards.
"Today, during Charms." Harry told her.
"You were trying to empty your mind during a lesson? I will ignore that for now. The time before then?" McGonagall asked.
Harry hung his head in shame, he couldn't remember; if he was being honest, he wasn't sure he'd practised in the last week or more.
"I'm not sure." Harry mumbled.
Professor McGonagall gave out a loud sigh, "Once again then Mr Potter."
Harry managed to keep her out for almost ten seconds before she was able to latch onto a memory and once again wonder through his memories. Harry couldn't help it when McGonagall, in her red dress, on the hill flashed into view.
McGonagall pulled out and looked strangely at him, "Where did you see that?" she asked, barely more than a whisper.
Harry felt tears brim behind his eyes at his shame, "Curiosity. I'm sorry, I truly am Professor."
Professor McGonagall nodded and paced for a few steps before sitting down and summoning a pot of tea, "Sit down Mr Potter."
Harry walked forwards slowly and sat down next to her. He watched as McGonagall, thoughtfully made two cups of tea and passed one to him.
"Thank you." Harry mumbled.
"I assume that you saw all of the memories I placed in the pensive?" McGonagall asked after a few minutes.
Harry nodded, "Yes Professor. I know it doesn't make up for it but, I wasn't trying to look at your memories. I saw Dad's face, and James's and I…"
McGonagall smiled softly, "I understand. It was not a good thing to do, but I understand the temptation." this is why she's taken those memories out, in case he'd been able to latch on to her mind, she didn't want anything that would make him think too strongly.
Harry sipped his tea and waited for her to say something.
"It must have been very difficult for you, to see Severus in such a position." McGonagall sighed.
Harry nodded and looked down to his lap, picking at his nails, "They didn't… lie, exactly, to me, about what James was like but I… it…"
"It's different seeing it." McGonagall nodded, "Your… James had many good qualities, he truly did but he was not what you could call a kind child."
"I'm surprised he didn't sit there frying ants." Harry muttered, "What he did was barbaric."
"And Remus? Sirius?" McGonagall asked, "They did not stop him, they laughed and joined in. It's easy to place blame on people who can no longer defend themselves."
Harry took a deep breath, "It's easier to hate him."
"What is easy is not always right." McGonagall said sharply.
"Can I ask you something Professor?" Harry whispered.
"Of course." McGonagall said, "Although I cannot promise I will answer."
Harry smirked, "I was wondering why you didn't marry that man, the one you met on the hill?"
McGonagall placed her hands carefully on her knee, "That is a difficult question."
"I understand." Harry said, "Sorry if I upset you, I shouldn't of seen it in the first place after all."
McGonagall shook her head, "You didn't. Can I trust that anything I tell you doesn't leave this room? Even to your friends?"
Harry nodded, "Yes, of course."
McGonagall studied him carefully, there had been so much they kept secret from the poor boy, what could it hurt to let him in on this little secret.
"My mother was a witch, but my father was a muggle. My mother, she never told my father that she was a witch, not even when I went to Hogwarts, and gave up her magic to be with him." McGonagall said carefully, "I don't think she regretted it, exactly, but I know it was very difficult for her and it wasn't something she wanted for me. I had received a wonderful job offer from the Ministry and went home to spend a few months with my parents before I started when I met Dougal, he was… a truly, wonderful man, who I loved very much, but he was also, a muggle. When he started talking about spending our lives together I thought I could just tell him, but what if he reacted badly? It was, and is, illegal to tell muggles about the magical world."
"People do, sometimes though." Harry said, "People would understand."
McGonagall nodded, "Yes, now and you're right, maybe back then. But I so wanted to keep my job at the Ministry and, well, I was afraid."
Harry found himself surprised that she had been scared, she always seemed so strong, like nothing in the world could of phased her.
"I found myself with a choice, leave Dougal or give up my magic and live as my mother did. I always knew that that life wasn't for me so I gave him up." McGonagall said, with a sad smile, "He died, in an anti-muggle attack in the end, years after I'd left."
"I'm so sorry." Harry said, "I… I never knew."
"Not many people know." McGonagall shrugged, "It's the past and I have always chosen to focus on the future."
Harry didn't know what to say.
"I suggest, Mr Potter, that we stop our lessons for now." McGonagall sighed, "I don't think that we are getting anywhere, do you?"
Harry shook his head, "I am trying."
"And I suggest you keep trying." McGonagall assured him, "But these lessons are doing little good. Professor Umbridge questioned me again about them this morning, we are drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves."
"So… you're stopping?" Harry asked.
"Yes, for now." McGonagall told him, "When you feel you are improving on your own, you may let me know and we will resume your lessons."
Harry nodded, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Mr Potter." McGonagall said, showing him out of the room and into the darkened corridor.