I took a short break from this to work on a few other things, but then I got a massive influx of new follows and whatnot, so I figured I shouldn't ignore it entirely. I hope all of you continue to enjoy the story, as I'm certainly enjoying writing it. Drop me a review and let me know what you're thinking.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
After that unforgettable Quidditch match, things finally started to calm down again. A whole month without any indications that Voldemort was lurking nearby seemed to have done wonders for people's nerves, to the point that some were starting to question what exactly they'd seen in the Great Hall during the feast after all. Harry didn't think this sort of denial was healthy, but considered it preferable to panic.
As they moved into February, a few of the students whose parents had pulled them out of school even started coming back. A large part of this was likely due to how the school was handling the disappearance of one of its teachers in the middle of the year. It was too short notice to find a replacement right away for such a notoriously unlucky position, so in the interim the rest of the staff were filling in. Professor Sinistra took the second years, McGonagall took third, Flitwick fourth, and Snape took sixth (Harry pitied them). As for the first years, and the all-important exam-laden fifth and seventh years, Dumbledore was teaching them himself.
'I can't believe how lucky we are,' Hermione said after their Defense lesson the day before Valentine's Day. 'Learning from Dumbledore himself! I hope it stays this way for the rest of the year!'
Harry couldn't help but agree. He'd never actually witnessed Dumbledore teach a class before, but his reputation as an educator was well deserved. There wasn't anything in the first year curriculum that he didn't already know, of course, but Dumbledore had a way of making even the most mundane things sound interesting, and classes with him were always mentally stimulating. Suddenly it was as if everyone in class had turned into Hermione, and they were all eager to talk about whatever the current topic happened to be. It reminded him of how much fun Dumbledore's Army had been.
'He's definitely better than Quirrell,' Ron said. 'I mean, aside from the obvious reason.' At some point, Harry couldn't tell when, Quirrell being the servant of an evil dark lord had become something to joke about. Not everyone was on board yet, but it was definitely a better way of dealing with the situation than outright denial.
'Not a high bar to clear, really,' Harry said. 'I mean, if you've got access to one of the worst dark wizards in history, at least put it to use in the classroom, right?'
'I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky he didn't teach us actual dark arts,' Ron replied. 'If that was his other option, maybe "nothing at all" was the right way to go.'
'Can't you two be serious for even a moment?' Hermione said crossly. 'Honestly, I don't know how you can joke about something like that. You-Know-Who being right here in the school is nothing to laugh about!'
'Better to laugh than cry, Hermione,' said Fred, coming up from behind them in the corridor.
'Or curl up in a ball of terror,' George added.
'Right, that too.'
'You two never take anything seriously,' said Hermione. 'But I can't believe how everyone else is acting.'
'Not everyone,' Harry pointed out. 'Plenty of people are still on edge. But would you rather have things back the way they were a month ago, when practically everyone was terrified Voldemort was hiding around every corner of the castle?'
'Well, no,' Hermione admitted. 'But there really has to be some kind of middle ground, don't you think?'
'Things'll settle down again eventually,' George said. 'This is just a coping period. Humor is the best way to deal with a frightening experience.'
'We should know,' said Fred. 'But the more time passes, the less scary it'll be. This time next year, it'll just be a crazy story to tell the new first-years.'
'That almost sounded profound,' said Hermione.
'Don't tell anyone,' said George.
'It'll damage our reputation,' said Fred.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
The next night was something of a big deal. Harry and Ginny hadn't spent a single Valentine's Day apart since getting back together after the war. They usually went on a date out in the Muggle world, where they could be assured of their anonymity and that no one would bother them. Last year, they'd gone to see a live stage production at London's West End. It was something neither of them had ever experienced before and ended up being very enjoyable. They both led very hectic lives, so it wasn't often they had the opportunity to share something special like that.
This year, they'd be celebrating Valentine's Day through a mirror. Harry tried not to let it bring him down, but the disappointment was difficult to avoid. This would have been their last Valentine's Day before getting married, and Harry had begun planning it almost a year in advance. He'd wanted to take her abroad somewhere, but had woken up in his cupboard before finally narrowing it down.
Harry waited as usual for his dorm mates to fall asleep before casting the regular silencing charm around his four-poster. Then he reached under his pillow and pulled out his two-way mirror.
'Ginny,' he said clearly to his own reflection. It was only a matter of seconds before he was greeted with her beaming face.
'Happy Valentine's Day, Harry,' she said immediately. What's happy about it? He wanted to say, but knew that would be unfair. She was clearly trying to salvage as much joy as possible from their predicament; it would be selfish to ruin it.
'Happy Valentine's Day,' he said, putting on the best face he could muster. She was not fooled.
'I know this isn't ideal, Harry,' she said soothingly. 'There's nothing I want more in the world than to be with you right now. But at least we can still see each other, still talk. However bad this may be, it's not like...not like back then.' He knew she was referring to the year they'd spent apart while he was off with Ron and Hermione hunting for horcruxes. It was something he'd found himself thinking a lot about these past few months as well, however much he'd rather not.
'Merlin forbid,' he said. 'As worried as I was about you, there were definitely times I wished you'd been able to come along.'
Ginny looked momentarily shocked. 'I don't think you've ever admitted that to me before,' she said.
'I've never been forced to think about it before,' he replied. 'I thought I could just put it behind me, that we'd never be separated again. But if I-' he stopped, realizing what he'd been about to say, and then burst out laughing.
'What?' she demanded. 'Just what about this is funny?'
'I was about to say, "If I could go back and do it differently",' he explained, struggling to catch his breath.
Had Ginny been drinking anything, it would have sprayed all across the mirror; such was the burst of laughter that she herself broke into at this proclamation
'Oh my goodness, I can't…I can't breathe,' she wheezed in between guffaws.
'What I was trying to say,' said Harry, once they'd both calmed down. He was in a much better mood now. 'was that there were definitely things I would have done differently. Foremost among them would have been not breaking up with you.'
She froze, her eyes wide. 'What, seriously?' she said. 'What about all that, "I couldn't bear it if something happened to you and it was my fault" rubbish?'
'It wasn't rubbish,' said Harry. 'That part was – and is – still true. But you were right, it wasn't just my decision to make; it was yours, too. I should have considered that and I didn't; I'm sorry.'
Ginny had tears in her eyes, and they were not from laughing too hard. 'That is the single most wonderful thing you have ever said to me,' she said. Harry didn't really know what to say, so he smiled somewhat awkwardly. He hadn't really meant to have this conversation tonight, and was not sure how it had come about. She smiled back, recognizing his wrongfootedness, and rescued him. 'This has turned out to be a lovely Valentine's Day after all,' she said. 'Thank you, Harry. I really can't tell you what it means to me to hear you say that.'
There wasn't anything he could say, really. 'You're welcome'? 'Don't worry about it'? They all sounded ridiculous.
'It's something I've been thinking about a lot,' he finally said. 'I was so sure at the time that it was the right thing to do, but...' he trailed off, unable to adequately articulate what he was thinking.
'I know,' she said. 'I really do. I know the kind of stress you were under, and I do understand why you felt it was necessary, I really do. But what we think and what we feel isn't always the same, you know?'
Harry chuckled. 'That sounds like something Dumbledore would say,' he said. 'I know what you mean, though. I think that's what got me thinking about it in the first place. Having you here now would make everything feel so much better, even though it would be a terrible idea. I felt the same back then.'
'At least this time there isn't the constant threat that one of us could end up dead any day,' she offered.
'I suppose there is, that, yes.'
There was a slight pause, and then Ginny said, 'Well after all this, my present to you is going to seem pretty silly in comparison.'
'What? Present?' Harry asked, perking up his ears. Ginny laughed at his transparent mood shift.
'When Hedwig brought me the chocolate you bought for me – thank you, by the way – I sent her back with something for you. She should be there by now if you want to peek out your window and let her in.'
Suddenly as excited as – well, as an eleven year-old – Harry jumped out of bed and darted over to the nearest window, careful not to wake anyone. He opened it up and stuck his head out, peering out into the frigid February night air and looking around. It only took a few moments for Hedwig to swoop into sight, laden with a package wrapped in simple brown paper. She must have been perched nearby waiting for an opportunity to make her delivery.
'Good girl,' he said affectionately, stroking his owl's feathers as he untied her burden. He placed it on his night stand and fished some owl treats out of the drawer to feed her. 'You go have yourself a nice long rest in the Owlery.'
She nipped at his finger and took flight once again, fading into the inky black sky almost immediately.
Harry returned to the solitude of his four-poster and recast his silencing charm before opening the package.
'It's heavy,' he said, weighing it in his hand while untying the string that bound it.
'You'll see why in a minute,' Ginny said. Either his excitement was catching, or she was just as anxious for him to open it as he was.
He peeled back the paper, and found contained within a full helping of his favorite dessert, treacle tart. Better still, Weasley-made treacle tart.
'I convinced mum I really wanted some, and we made it together,' Ginny explained after his yelp of delight. 'I know you like hers better than mine, but as it was for Valentine's Day, I felt like I had to at least help make it.'
'What do mean I like hers more?' Harry asked. He tried to sound indignant, but as he'd just greedily taken a huge bite of the tart, it mostly just came out garbled. He swallowed before continuing. 'I mean yeah, your mum's is great, but yours comes from you. No contest, really.' He took another great bite, and to his embarrassment found himself fighting back tears. He hadn't eaten anything this good in what felt like forever.
'I'm glad you're happy,' she said.
'You have no idea,' said Harry, wiping his eyes. 'This is what I've been missing. A taste of home. This is the best possible thing you could have sent. Thank you.' Ginny looked very pleased.
'Oh, and I have one more bit of good news for you,' she said.
'Oh, more?' he said, forcing himself to put the rest of the tart away and save it for later. 'It must be good if you saved it for last.'
'You do know me,' she grinned. 'Anyway, I've been very subtly dropping hints to mum that Ron and the others should come home for Easter, even though they normally don't, since things at the castle are so stressful right now. Kind of feeling the safety of home, you know? And I may have implied that she should tell Ron to invite you, as you don't have anywhere else to go and you're probably really scared what with everything that happened to you last month.'
'You're joking,' Harry said, his heart practically stopped. He would get to see her in person – and Mr and Mrs Weasley, too – months before they had initially planned.
'Of course not. We said we were going to try to figure something out for this, didn't we?'
'We did, but that was months ago, and Ron hasn't said anything, so I reckoned it wasn't happening.'
'Oh ye of such little faith,' Ginny said dramatically. 'I don't have a lot else to occupy my time; scheming to trick mum into inviting you while making her think it's her idea is a good way to pass the hours.'
'You're a little bit terrifying sometimes,' Harry told her, 'but I love you. I take it the plan looks like it's working, then? You wouldn't have told me otherwise.'
'Right,' she said, nodding. 'I heard her talking to Dad about it the other day. He's all for it, of course. Thinks it would be fun to meet you, and you know how Mum is. As soon as she realized it would be a chance to take care of you, she was basically hooked. It's just a matter of time now.'
'She hasn't even met me yet, though,' Harry pointed out.
'You think that matters? Ron has told her all about you, and he didn't neglect to mention the way you grew up. She's itching for a chance to fuss over you.'
'I do miss your mum,' he said fondly.
'I know you do. This will be good for both of us. A chance to see each other again sure, but also just to be around everyone again all together. Surprising as it may be, I do actually miss Ron and George. And Fred! I can't wait to see Fred again. It was so wonderful but so painful to have him here last summer; I think now the shock has worn off, it'll be lovely to just be able to enjoy his presence again.'
'It really is,' Harry said. 'I don't know when it happened, but at some point I stopped being surprised to see him every morning at breakfast. Now he's just here; it's like it used to be.'
'I'm looking forward to that,' Ginny said. 'The first time I found myself annoyed with him, I felt horrible for the rest of the day. Ashamed. Like I should be just grateful that he was alive and let him get away with whatever he wanted.'
'I know what you mean,' said Harry. 'But after a few weeks of Quidditch practice, I found myself getting over that feeling rather quickly.'
'Oh, we can play Quidditch together!' she suddenly said excitedly.
'I thought they never let you play with them when you were younger?'
She narrowed her eyes and spoke as if he were very dim. 'Do you expect me to give a toss about that?'
'Well no, I suppose not,' he chucked. 'Blimey, that'll be fun to see.'
'Also, while you're here, you can let me borrow your wand,' she said matter-of-factly. 'I'm going stir crazy not being able to do any magic. I just need to make things float around a bit to remind myself I still can.'
'Of course you can borrow it, but what about the Trace?'
'As long as I only do magic in the house, the Ministry will just assume it's Mum or Dad,' she said, unconcerned.
'That's a good point,' Harry said. An idea struck him. 'Maybe I can perform some diagnostic charms on the two of us while we're at it. Whatever sent us here is affecting both of us, so it might be easier to detect when we're together.'
'Brilliant, Harry!'
'It's a plan, then.'
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
A little over a week later, Ron received a letter at breakfast. After they'd extricated Errol from the tureen of porridge he'd landed in and sent him to the Owlery for a rest, he opened it up.
'It's from Mum,' he announced. Harry forced down a hiccough; he knew what he hoped this was about, but he couldn't say anything just yet.
'What does she want?' he asked casually after taking a calming swig of juice.
'She's saying she wants us all to come home for the Easter hols,' Ron said. 'That's a bit weird; no one ever came home during Easter before that I remember.'
'She's probably still worried about you after what happened when we got back from Christmas,' Hermione said.
'You reckon? That was ages ago. Nothing else has happened; what's to be worried about?'
'Honestly Ron, is it that hard to understand?' Hermione said impatiently. 'Can't you imagine how terrifying it must be for a parent to learn that You-Know-Who appeared at your children's school, and there was nothing you could do about it? That you were nowhere near them when it happened and couldn't have done anything even if you'd known?'
'Well yeah, but nothing did happen. And Dumbledore's here, so we're about as safe as we can be, right? I mean, even if You-Know-Who tried to sneak back in again for some reason, it's not like Dumbledore's going to let anything happen to us. Everyone always says he's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of.'
Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
'You clearly have no idea what it's like to be a parent,' she said.
'Well to be fair, neither do you,' said Harry cheekily. For one mad second, he thought maybe he'd accidentally stumbled on something. Maybe she did know what it was like. Maybe this Hermione was in a situation just like his own, only from further in the future. Maybe…
'Okay fine, that's true,' she admitted. 'But at least I try to understand.'
No, that was ridiculous. If Hermione were from the future like him, she would have recognized him immediately in the same way he and Ginny had recognized each other: they were not acting like themselves. Not their eleven year-old selves, anyway. And much as he may wish otherwise, this slightly superior, impatient but awkwardly helpful girl was exactly what twelve year-old Hermione had been like.
'All right, all right, I'm sorry,' said Ron. 'Blimey. It's not like I don't want to go, anyway. It'll be a nice break. She says I should invite you, Harry. Want to come?'
'Yeah?' he asked, feigning surprise. 'That sounds brilliant.'
'Our house isn't much,' Ron started, but Harry interrupted him.
'It could be a shed in a swamp and I guarantee you it'll still be better than what I grew up with,' he said.
'We actually have one of those,' Ron joked. 'It's not the main part of the house, though.'
'Just keeps getting better,' Harry said.
At that moment, Fred and George came over and sat next to them, pushing some second years out of the way to do it.
'Percy says Mum wants us to go home for Easter,' Fred began without preamble. 'She sent him a letter about it.'
'We saw Errol crash over here earlier, so we were wondering if you got one, too,' said George.
'Yeah, right here,' said Ron, handing the letter in question to the twins.
'Figures,' Fred grumbled. 'Never tells us anything, does she? Expects us to hear it all through the grapevine.'
'This does say to give it to you after I've read it,' Ron said.
'Pish posh,' said George. 'As if that makes it any better.'
'Are you going to come?'
'I suppose we might as well,' said Fred, handing the letter back to Ron. 'Not like we've got anything better to do around here. Besides, you know Mum. She'll still be fretting about ol' what's-his-face. She won't believe we're all safe until she sees it with her own eyes.'
Hermione flashed a viciously triumphant grin, which Ron attempted pointedly to ignore.
'I guess Ginny was really upset, too,' George said. 'She probably wants to see us all as much as Mum does.'
'I'm not so sure it's us she's hoping to see,' said Fred, turning to Harry and waggling his eyebrows. He wanted to laugh, but he had to play his role.
'What are you on about?' he asked.
'Didn't Ron say?' said George. 'You're invited too, Harrykins. Mum would love for us all to think it was her idea, but if Ginny hasn't been talking about wanting to meet you since Ron first mentioned you were friends, I'm a Slytherin.'
'Those letters we got after the feast specifically told us all to watch out for you, Harry,' Fred said. 'And to report back on how you were doing. Seems poor Ginny thought You-Know-Who had come to the school specifically to kill you.'
A trace of guilt wormed its way back into Harry's heart for just a moment, and he was unable to keep it from showing on his face. Fortunately, they seemed to interpret it as embarrassment.
'All right, lay off him, you two,' said Ron. 'In case you forgot, You-Know-Who did try to kill Harry that night.'
'Ah, right,' said Fred awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Sorry about that, Harry.'
'Got a little carried away,' said George.
'Don't worry about it,' said Harry.
'You're letting them off easy,' Ron said. 'They almost never apologize for anything.'
'That's because we almost never do anything worthy of an apology, Ronald,' George said in a fairly good imitation of Percy's formal demeanor.
'But we can admit when we mess up,' said Fred.
'Never mind that,' said George, back to his regular self. 'Are you coming, Harry?'
'Yeah, I am,' he said. 'I already told Ron; I'd be daft not to.'
'Brilliant!' Fred cheered. 'We'll be able to play Quidditch! Percy doesn't play and we'd have odd numbers otherwise.'
'Ginny doesn't play?' Harry asked innocently.
The three brothers looked at each other, bemused. 'Not usually, why?' said George.
'Oh, no reason,' Harry said. 'Just wondering.'
'Well, no doubt she'll want to if you're there, Harry,' Fred said. 'We may end up having to teach her after all.'
'Wouldn't that just be odd numbers again?' asked Ron.
'Well, we'll have to let her watch, at least. You know she won't let up unless we do.'
It was all Harry could do to hold in his laughter; he paid careful attention to the conversation so that he could repeat it back to Ginny later.
'That'll be all for us,' said George finally. 'We've got to go see Lee about a few items of questionable nature before classes start. Cheers.' He swiped a slice of toast from Ron's plate and started off, Fred close behind him. Ron grumbled and started buttering another slice.
'Sometimes I just don't understand them,' he said. 'They were always the ones saying we shouldn't let Ginny play. Now we're letting her join just like that?'
'Well I think you should let your sister play if she wants to,' said Hermione fiercely. 'What reason do you have to exclude her other than that she's a girl?'
'None, really,' said Ron. 'I mean, it's probably also that she's younger than all of us, too.'
'Isn't she just a year younger than you?' Harry asked.
'Yeah,' said Ron, apparently missing the point. 'Did I tell you that? I must've. Still though, she acts a lot younger than that. Cries a lot, never shuts up. Little sister stuff.'
'I wouldn't know anything about that,' said Harry. In his mind he was trying to picture Ginny the way Ron was describing her – indeed, the way he had described her when they were young before, as well. Except for a brief glimpse on Platform 9 ¾ on his very first day of Hogwarts, Harry had never seen that version of Ginny. The only one he knew other than the fierce, brave, and confident woman he'd fallen in love with had been a silent, shy, smitten young girl who still possessed more nerve that most people he'd met. Try as he might, Harry could not reconcile either version with the child Ron claimed to have grown up with.
Hermione, for her part, still looked annoyed. 'Maybe if you lot treated her like a person from time to time instead of a little sister, she wouldn't be so bad,' she snapped.
'Yikes!' yelped Ron, jerking back as if burned. 'Blimey, Hermione! Why does this bother you so much? You don't even know her!'
'I would have thought you, Ron, would know what it's like to be the younger sibling who just wants to spend time with your older brothers, and how much it hurts when they don't let you. Were you so excited when they finally let you join in that you forgot what that felt like?'
To his credit, Ron did look slightly ashamed of himself. Harry decided to take pity on him.
'Maybe that's just how things work in big families, Hermione,' said Harry. He was talking out of his arse, but he mostly just wanted to diffuse the tension. 'After all, Fred and George just said they were willing to let Ginny play. Maybe it's like a rite of passage or something. It seems unfair, but neither of us could really understand what that's like, right?'
'Maybe,' said Hermione slowly. Harry could see the wheels turning in her head; she accepted that Harry had a point, but she didn't want to stop being indignant. 'Still, Ron, you don't need to talk about her like she's nothing but a pest.'
'I'll remind you again that you've never met her, but all right,' said Ron. 'Maybe she won't whinge if you're there, Harry. She'll want to look good in front of you.'
'If you say so,' said Harry, holding back his laughter again. 'Where do you live, exactly?'
'Ottery St. Catchpole,' said Ron. 'It's a village in Devon.'
'Do many magical people live there?' asked Hermione, who seemed to have put her irritation aside for the sake of her curiosity.
'A few,' said Ron. 'I know we're not the only ones, but I couldn't tell you the names of any other families. It's a small village though, so probably not very many. It's still mostly Muggles.'
'How are you able to blend in with them?' she asked. 'I mean no offense, Ron, but you're not exactly an expert on Muggles. Wouldn't they notice a family of wizards?'
'They probably would, yeah. Definitely would if we're talking about my family. We actually live a bit outside the village though, so no one pays us any mind.'
'I'm looking forward to it,' Harry said. You have no idea how much, he added in his head.
'Well, just don't get too excited or anything,' Ron murmured. 'I wouldn't want you to be disappointed.'
'Not bloody likely,' Harry laughed. Hermione told him off for swearing, and the three of them spent the rest of breakfast arguing over whether or not "bloody" should be considered a swear.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
The next month and a half passed interminably slowly. Harry was not used to Hogwarts without a mystery or crisis to be dealt with. He had a feeling that even if he wasn't stuck in lessons he'd already mastered years before, he'd still be bored out of his mind.
Was this what school was like for most people? Was this what it would have been like for him as well if not for Voldemort? How could people stand it? Even the novelty of living in a magical castle grew stale when all you did was go to the same lessons every day and sit and do your homework every night.
Maybe he wasn't being fair. Maybe the real eleven year-old Harry would still have been having the time of his life, and it was just the tedium of repeating such basic topics that was driving him mad. Still, playing Quidditch and talking to Ginny every night could only help so much. There was literally nothing else to do. He almost wished he'd waited until after Hagrid's dragon escapade before outing Quirrell, just so he'd have something to break the monotony.
Even the excitement of having Dumbledore for a teacher didn't last. By the end of March, a substitute had been found who would be able to finish out the rest of the year. He was an American named Overdeck who was in the country visiting friends, and had experience teaching overseas. He'd been planning to return home in May, but Dumbledore had somehow managed to get him to stay for an extra month.
Professor Overdeck was certainly interesting in his own way – his accent and blunt straightforward attitude were novelties, at least – but that still didn't change the fact that Harry already knew the entire curriculum. He wished he were in one of the older classes; apparently Overdeck's specialty was dueling, and the fifth to seventh years were having a grand old time.
'Of all the luck,' Ron whinged one morning on the way to defense. 'We actually get a dueling expert for a teacher, and we're too young to learn how to duel. Wish he was staying on.' At breakfast and in the common room the night before, all the older students were talking about the fantastic practical defense lessons they'd had. Even Percy, who was delightedly proclaiming how much this would help him on his O.W.L.s, had been hard pressed to disguise how much he'd enjoyed himself.
When they arrived in the classroom, Professor Overdeck was already standing at the front waiting for them. He was a tall, slender man with an equally slender nose. He was clean-shaven with a friendly looking face, and had close-cropped brown hair that was mostly covered by a tan bowler hat. His hat matched the color of his robes, which were in the American style and looked more like a Muggle overcoat than proper wizarding robes. The class quickly took their seats, eager to see where this unknown entity would take them.
Harry noted, interestingly, that Overdeck did not give the slightest pause when reaching his name while taking register. Indeed, he was Harry's only teacher ever besides McGonagall not to call attention to him in some way during his first lesson. He knew he wasn't as well known in America as he was in Britain, so perhaps Overdeck had no idea who he was? That would certainly be refreshing, although Dumbledore must have told him, surely.
'Welcome everyone!' Overdeck called out once the register was complete. It was still jarring to hear an American accent used so brazenly within Hogwarts. Harry knew next to nothing about the different dialects in America; he wondered where exactly Professor Overdeck was from. 'I know the yeah is mostly auva, but there's still a lot for us to get through. Sadly, I don't have as much time to get to know all auf you as I might like, but I'll do what I can. Now, as fah as auur curriculum goes, I see Professah Dumbledoah has been catching you up aun some basic counta curses and anti-jinxes. I thought maybe we could test how fah you've come with them, but in aurda to do that, we'll need the actual jinxes. So that's what we'll be doing today.'
'What?' asked a shocked Parvati.
'We're learning jinxes?' asked Seamus who sounded entirely too excited about the prospect.
'Nothing too nasty. The more enterprising auf you may have worked some auf these auut already. We just need a basis to practice the countas,' explained Overdeck. 'And maybe to have a little fun,' he added with a grin.
He split them into pairs and had them start practicing Rictumsempra, the tickling jinx. There were a lot of false starts, and Harry very nearly revealed himself by reflexively deflecting an almost perfectly cast jinx from Hermione, whom he was partnered with. He managed to stop himself at the last second; it had been a very long time indeed since he'd allowed himself to actually be hit by a spell.
The peels of laughter induced by the spell lasted only moments, before Overdeck wordlessly lifted it and granted Hermione five points. Harry, feeling cheeky and maybe just a little vindictive, cast the jinx back at Hermione and made no effort to pretend he couldn't do it. Hermione doubled over in helpless laughter before Harry, too, was awarded five points. They were then allowed to work with Ron and Neville, who were still having some trouble. Once everyone was able to perform the jinx adequately, he had them practice taking it off each other with the counterjinx they'd already studied. That was when things really got crazy.
All in all, they learned to perform a Helium Hex, which gave the victim an unnaturally high-pitched voice, the Chittering Jinx, which caused all speech to be accompanied by squirrel-like stuttering, and the Curse of Verse, which forced one to speak in rhyme. It was a textbook example of organized chaos. All around the room, students were laughing as their friends spoke in squeaks, recited bad poetry and impersonated squirrels. It was a level of fun for a defense class worthy of Professor Lupin. But that was before they realized they'd walked right into a trap.
'Sir, please pardon me,' said Hermione around the end of the lesson. 'I'm a little confused, you see. I can't help but wonder if you've made a bit of a blunder. These spells you've just taught us, while they're awfully good fun, we know how to counter only the first one. The object, I thought, was to give us a curse that we then would have to try to reverse. Yet we're all still hexed and we have History next.'
'No blunda, Miss Granga. Homewok! You must each research the curse with which you have been afflicted and learn to apply the counta curse by yourself. Anyone still jinxed the next time I see you will fail the assignment.'
There was an outpouring of angry muttering. 'You t-t-t-t can't-t-t-t-t-t-t be t-t-t-t-t-t serious!' Ron chittered angrily through his two front teeth, currently looking as prominent as Hermione's.
'I'm quite serious, Mista Weasley,' said Overdeck. 'Don't worry, the autha teachers know about the assignment; you won't get in trouble with any auf them if you aren't able to manage it.'
'Right, I'll believe that!' Seamus snapped. 'If Snape is all right with this, I'll eat my hat!'
'We don't have this class for three more days!' Lavender squeaked, sounding very much like a cartoon mouse. Harry pursed his lips trying to hold in his laughter. Knowing he would sound much the same if he tried to talk didn't make it any less funny. 'Will we really have to stay jinxed that whole time?'
'Not if you were paying attention when Professah Dumbledoah taught you about counta spells. Oh, and befoah anyone gets any ideas, I'll be jinxing you again next class to see if you can undo it, so no point asking someone else to do it fah you.'
More outraged grousing erupted, but they were cut off by the end of class bell, and Professor Overdeck unceremoniously chivvying them out the door.
'I can't believe this!' Lavender squeaked furiously as the whole lot of them made their way to the History of Magic Classroom. 'I can't imagine anything more embarrassing! And to think that class seemed fun! And shut up laughing, Harry, you don't sound any better than I do!'
Harry had been unable to hide his continued giggles.
'No, but I reckon I'm taking it better,' he said, then immediately laughed at himself. He sounded as if someone were playing an old LP of his voice on too many RPMs.
'How can you be so calm?' Dean asked in an equally shrill voice.
'I dunno,' said Harry, shrugging. 'It's just funny, isn't it?'
'Maybe t-t-t-t-t for t-t-t-t-t-t-t you!' chittered Parvati. 'At-t-t-t-t-t-t least t-t-t-t-t you t-t-t-t-t can t-t-t-t-t-t-t still t-t-t-t-t-t-t speak t-t-t-t normally!'
'No doubt about it,' said Seamus, 'you and Ron got the worst of it.' He paused and cocked his head, as if in deep thought about something. Then he said, 'Dean, mate, I think your jinx was second rate. I haven't got a single poetry book on my shelf, but even I know not to rhyme a word with itself.'
'Can we focus, please!' Lavender squeaked. 'How are we going to make it go away? Hermione, do you have any ideas?'
Hermione had been deep in thought since they left the classroom, and looked almost shocked to be being addressed. She considered a moment before saying, 'He said we should know what to do, that Dumbledore gave us a clue. But I just can't recall what he told us at all...I've no idea, Harry, do you?'
Harry did, in fact, know exactly what to do, and moreover he knew the lesson Overdeck was trying to teach them. The fact that Hermione of all people could not remember Dumbledore giving them the solution only a week before was a sign that it was a lesson sorely needed. A lesson that he, Ron, and Hermione had been forced to learn the hard way on his first experience. So had the others, though not for much later. Learning it in a controlled environment was definitely preferable.
'No idea,' he echoed, shrugging.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Ginny burst out laughing when he answered her in his mirror that evening. He had forgotten to remove the jinx on himself. Her laughter was contagious, causing him to crack up into great peals of high-pitched laughter reminiscent of a dog's chew toy being squeezed rapidly over and over. This sounded so silly it made her laugh even harder. It was several minutes before they were both able to calm down enough to actually speak.
'What on Earth happened to you?' she asked, still giggling like mad.
He silently lifted the jinx before replying, telling her about Overdeck's lesson that day.
'And nobody's figured it out yet?' Ginny asked. 'Not even Hermione?'
'Not yet. That's what he's getting at, I'm almost certain of it. It's a lot easier to remember defensive spells in the safe, controlled environment of a classroom compared to the stress of a real world situation. Hermione wasn't always the best at keeping her head in a crisis when she was younger.'
'So everyone is still talking like that?'
'No, just me, Lavender, and Dean. Ron and Parvati are chittering like squirrels, and Hermione, Seamus, and Neville are speaking in rhyme.'
'Oh, Merlin's bits, that's priceless!' said Ginny, breaking into delighted laughter again. 'I wish I could see it!'
'It's pretty funny, I'm not going to lie,' Harry said. 'I'm tempted to give them hints on how to solve it, though. It's kind of stressing them out.'
'I guess I can see how it would,' she said. 'Maybe just give it one more day.'
'You're really enjoying this too much,' he teased.
'I'm starved for entertainment!' she cried, her eyes going wide. 'You would not believe how boring it is around here! I don't remember it being this bad when I was really just ten, but I suppose it must have been. Mum's not even giving me lessons anymore; she reckons I've mastered everything I need. I thought I'd be happy about that, but now there is literally nothing for me to do. I have to help tend the chickens of course, and there's the occasional de-gnoming, but other than that there are absolutely zero demands on my time. I've no wand, the games I would have played as a child offer no comfort obviously, and I can only sneak into the broom shed so often without Mum noticing. I'm going spare, I really am!'
'I know, love,' Harry said, trying to put a soothing tone in his voice. 'I remember what last summer was like for me, and I only had to put up with it for two months. I can't fathom how you're dealing with this, I really can't. But just remember: only one more week and I'll be there with you. We'll be able to try undoing whatever sent us here, and even if we don't learn anything, at least you'll have someone to spend time with for a change.'
'I reckon that's all that's keeping me sane at this point,' she said. 'And we can play Quidditch! Oh, I can't wait to see Fred's and George's faces. Ron's, too. That really will be fun.'
'For me as well,' Harry said. 'Oh, you should have seen Hermione's reaction when she heard they didn't let you play with them.'
'Wait, what's this?' Ginny asked. 'When did this happen?'
'A while ago,' Harry said. 'I forgot to tell you. I think it was right around when your Mum's letters came inviting us to come home.'
'What did she say?'
'She was really indignant,' Harry said. 'Said they should treat you like a person instead of just a "little sister". Ron was really caught off guard.'
'Oh, I wish she and I had been friends when I was little,' said Ginny longingly. 'I miss her!'
'Won't be long before you're seeing her again, too,' Harry reminded her. 'Just a few months until Diagon Alley.'
'I'm already counting down the days until September,' she confessed. 'Is that pathetic or what?'
'Not at all. I did it all the time growing up. Did it this past summer, too. Reckon I'll start doing it again the first day I get back to Privet Drive.'
'I really hate that you have to go back there,' said Ginny, suddenly angry. 'Really, there's no need for it. You could just stay with us; everything would be fine!'
'I know that, and you know that, but there'd be no convincing Dumbledore without telling him the truth, and we both agreed that would be a terrible idea. Besides, I haven't even met your parents yet from their perspective; a bit early to be asking to move in, don't you think?'
'What about Sirius, then?'
'He's still in prison, remember?' Harry answered, feeling a stabbing pain in his gut. The reason for that was sleeping feet away from him, and he'd yet to do anything about it. He still felt like the timing wasn't right, but the longer things went on, the more feeble that reasoning sounded.
'Why don't we get him out?' Ginny asked. 'We could. Just expose Wormtail the way you did Quirrell.'
'Don't think I haven't thought about it,' Harry told her. 'Repeatedly. I see the little shite bag almost every day, you know. It's usually just for a couple of seconds, but the urge to just grab him up and strangle him never really goes away.'
'You never told me about this!' said Ginny, aghast. 'I mean obviously I knew he was there, but you never brought him up!' She paused, as if realizing something. 'And I've never asked,' she said quietly. 'Why?' The question was more to herself, but then she turned back to Harry and said, 'Why haven't we ever talked about this? Everything else we go over in the smallest detail, but neither of us has ever brought up Wormtail even once. I forgot, which is awful and I hate myself for it, but you've been actively avoiding talking about it. Why?'
'Because I didn't want to have this exact conversation,' said Harry, wincing. 'I knew we would eventually. And I know we have to do something about him. And I want to get Sirius out, of course I do! But...I can't explain it, but it's not the right time.'
'Not the right time? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And don't tell me you can't explain it; you'd damn well better try! And if I don't like your explanation, I'll strangle the little ball bag myself when you lot come home.'
Harry put his head in his hands. This was going worse than expected, though he'd known not talking about it with her had been a risk.
'It's...' he started to say, but the moment he tried to explain himself, he couldn't remember exactly what his reasoning had been. It was as if it had abandoned him completely, or was never there to begin with. All he was left with was, 'It was a gut feeling. I've learned to trust those. I don't know what else to say.'
'Unh-uh, not good enough,' she said, shaking her head. 'Harry, I trust you, I do, but this...I can't understand this. How could you, of all people, not want to get this sorted out as quickly as possible? The man who betrayed your parents could be locked up tomorrow, Sirius could be free again, and Voldemort might not even come back!'
'That's it!' Harry said, the answer clicking in his mind. 'Ginny, that's it! If Wormtail goes to Azkaban, he won't go back to Voldemort, and Voldemort won't come back!'
'Right, I just said that,' Ginny said, bemused. 'So why don't we just-'
'No, I mean that's why we can't do anything yet!' he interrupted. Ginny looked, if anything, more confused.
'What the fuck are you talking about?'
'Think about it,' he said, glad to finally have a firm grasp on the situation. 'If Voldemort doesn't come back in a few years, that doesn't mean he's gone. All it means is that he'll come back some other time, some other place, in a way we're not expecting. It's the same reason we couldn't let him get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone, remember? You were the one who said it's not worth letting things become so unpredictable.'
This actually gave her pause, and it was several seconds before she spoke again. 'Okay, maybe you're making some sense. But it's still a risk, isn't it? Every day we don't do something is a day Wormtail could just run off, and then we'd have no way of clearing Sirius's name.'
'I can't imagine he'd scarper without anyone giving him a reason to. Even last time, with Sirius on the loose, he hung around for a good part of the year, and even when he did run off, he only went as far as Hagrid's. I'm pretty certain he's not going anywhere.'
'But what about Sirius?' Ginny asked. 'Don't you want to get him out?'
'Of course I do! What kind of question is that? But how can we do that without exposing Wormtail?'
'I don't know. But doesn't that mean we should just do it? What are we waiting for? If we need Wormtail to go back to Voldemort, what does it matter if he does it a year or two earlier than before?'
Now it was Harry's turn to stop and think. Was waiting the best plan? Would it not be better to get everything out in the open and dealt with as quickly as possible?
'Let's think this through,' he said. 'If we make a mistake, there'll be no taking it back. Let's say we expose Wormtail now, and Sirius is freed. What happens next?'
'We couldn't let him go to Azkaban,' Ginny said. 'You were right about that; I hadn't even thought of it. That means we'd have to make sure he got away without anyone noticing we were doing that.'
'We'll worry about the how later,' said Harry. 'Let's assume we pull it off. Then what?'
'Well, what happened last time? He went back to Voldemort and they hatched the plan to bring you to the graveyard, right?'
'That's the problem, I think,' said Harry. 'That plan doesn't work without the Triwizard Tournament, which hasn't even been announced yet. Plus, they'd need Barty Crouch Jr, and there's no way they know about him yet.'
'How did they find out last time?'
Harry thought. It was a long time ago, but he seemed to recall this was an important detail. A few seconds of drawing a blank, then an image of a ghostly woman he'd never met, emerging from Voldemort's wand, urging him to fight. Bertha Jorkins.
'It was Bertha Jorkins!' he cried triumphantly, happy to have finally remembered something important and useful. 'She knew about Crouch and Voldemort tortured it out of her.' His excitement fell rapidly, along with his face. 'He killed her.'
'Oh, no,' said Ginny, her hand over her mouth.
'Well nuts to that line of thinking,' said Harry. 'I'm not sacrificing a woman's life for the sake of the plan.' Like Dumbledore would.
'Of course not,' Ginny agreed. 'But then what'll we do? If he doesn't have Crouch, the plan won't work, and we'll have no way to predict what he'll do.'
'I'm not sure I'm all right with subjecting Mad-Eye Moody to a year under Crouch's control, either,' said Harry, thinking out loud. 'But it's better than him getting killed. And who knows what might happen otherwise? The horcrux in my head will never be destroyed if Voldemort doesn't get a body, and as long as we're controlling how he gets one, we can minimize casualties.' Just saying the words made him ill. 'Merlin, I don't envy Dumbledore at all. These decisions are impossible. Leaving Sirius in Azkaban, trapping Moody in a trunk for a year, letting Wormtail and Crouch go free…I can't stand it.'
'Are we really leaving Sirius in there?' Ginny asked. 'I didn't think we'd decided on that yet.'
'We hadn't, but I think we might have to. The Triwizard plan is something we can foresee and manipulate. If we let them try something else, we'll be flying blind and any number of people could get hurt or worse.'
'But how are we going to do it? You're right that we can't let them have Bertha Jorkins. If they never learn about Crouch, they'll never come up with the plan in the first place.'
Harry had known it would come to this as soon as he'd remembered Bertha's fate. He'd been trying to think of another way, since he knew Ginny wasn't going to like it, but there was nothing for it.
'We'll have to free Crouch and send him to Voldemort ourselves.'
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
I ended up introducing some elements earlier than I had intended to, but it came about naturally and made sense, so I decided to keep it. I was also originally planning to end this chapter on the train, but that last line was too good and I had to go out on it.
Reviews are nectar and ambrosia. Thank you to all who have taken the time to leave me your thoughts.