|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: Felix Felicis Story: Unbreakable Bonds Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 139,082
Breakfast was a subdued affair that morning. The thought of going back to school and back to reality didn’t help their spirits. Their only reality now was exams. Harry, Ron and Hermione had trouble eating, though Harry did manage to eat the buttered toast with jam that Ginny made for him. Ginny was dreading her sixth year exams so much that she even forgot to pick on Ron, as was her usual morning ritual. They finally decided it was time to start packing when Hermione got so fidgety that Ron couldn’t sit by her anymore, which was really saying something. Mrs. Weasley trudged upstairs with them in tow and nagged about their packing and the state of their clothes until finally the clock struck eleven. Dragging their bags to the fireplace, they stopped for one last hug from Mrs. Weasley and to think of the fun they’d had the last two days. “Now dears,” she said tearfully, “do be careful. I don’t want you going anywhere near the forest and I want you to listen to Dumbledore. He’s going to keep an even closer eye on you now and you mustn’t get into any trouble. Now Harry, you go first, then you Ginny, then Hermione, then Ron.” Harry stepped up to the dark fireplace and took a pinch of powder from the small pot on the mantle. Floo Powder wasn’t his favorite way to travel but until they passed their Apparition exams, there just weren’t any better options. He tossed the powder into the fireplace and stepped into the bright green flames. “Dumbledore’s office,” he sputtered, speaking only as clearly as the soot and flame would allow him. The Burrow disappeared in a shower of color and dust and right away he began to ready himself for his landing at Hogwarts. The moment he saw Dumbledore’s office coming into view, he threw his arms out and only managed not to fall by grabbing hold of the nearest object at hand. It happened to be the Headmaster himself, who held Harry up with surprising strength. He then returned to his large desk to observe Harry over his spectacles with a smile. “Right on time, Harry. Very punctual, indeed.” Turning back to the fireplace with a grin, Harry waited for Ginny to appear. And appear she did, taking him by great surprise when she flew out very fast and grabbed him around the neck for support. She smiled sweetly and wiped some soot off his cheek with her thumb before turning to pick up her bags. Harry was only too glad he was covered in soot so she couldn’t see the burning heat in his cheek where she had touched it. He was amazed at how her hair could shine even with the dirt and mess that accompanied traveling through the fireplace. Tearing his eyes away from her, he was just in time to perform the same service for Hermione, who looked much more ruffled and distressed from the journey than Ginny had. She, however, stepped quickly away from him and performed a neat little cleaning charm on herself and her bags, though her hair was even bushier than normal when she finished. The last to arrive was Ron and to his apparent surprise, several arms reached out to catch him as he fell into the room. Ginny, Harry, and Hermione had all been waiting nervously for him, being not quite used to his absence yet and still feeling the leftover worry from his kidnapping. Dumbledore stepped up to them, his eyes twinkling. “I trust you had a restful break and are now quite ready to sit your exams. Your fellow classmates are on their way to lunch now. I recommend you join them before you go off to finish filling your heads with facts.” They all laughed as he ushered them to the door and waved them down the rotating steps. At the bottom they breathed a communal sigh of relief. The school, no matter what the situation, always felt like home to them. Harry felt happier than he had in quite some time. He loved the way the old stone walls reverberated with the echoes of hundreds of feet thudding their way to the Great Hall. The foursome followed the sound, making their own way to the Great Hall, laughing and talking all the way. Harry was glad to see that Ron was doing so well – his captivity being still so recent – and smiled at how Ginny laughed and talked right along with them. He watched her covertly but never saw any of the pain or hurt he thought he had seen two days before. All in all, they were in very good spirits. They chose, for the moment, to forget their exams and enjoy their last bit of free time together. Lunch, as always, tasted very good and was quite filling. Harry remembered once again the summers he had spent at Privet Drive and was thankful for the food. After they ate, however, the need to study took them back to Gryffindor tower where they sat with the biggest piles of books and parchment any of them had ever seen. Harry observed the rest of his Gryffindor classmates and was pleased to note that many of them appeared to be in no better condition than he and his friends were. Neville, who had been studying in the library until he knocked over a large stack of books, now sat by himself on a lone wooden chair near the portrait hole. The nervousness etched across his face became more pronounced every time his notes blew into a mess on the floor from someone going in or out of the hole. Harry felt sorry for him but could hardly help because his own nerves were ratcheting higher and higher with each note-covered parchment he read. How he was ever going to remember so many things, he didn’t know. Potions class had been horrendous the past year, culminating with Snape expecting them to know the names of every single ingredient they had ever used, in any potion. Harry remembered the day Snape had informed the class of this fact because it was the only time he had ever heard anyone laugh at something Snape had said. It was a nervous hysterical laugh, mixed with lots of mutterings and under-the-breath curses. Snape, of course, had silenced the class instantly with one fierce look and informed them icily that the N.E.W.T.’s would cover a wide variety of potions. Thus, their only hope of passing would be to memorize every potion and ingredient they had ever used. Harry, in spite of himself, couldn’t help but wonder vaguely whether Snape even knew all the ingredients to every one of his potions. But now, sitting in the common room, Harry knew he had to cram as many potion recipes into his head as he possibly could. Around him, the younger Gryffindors were talking and laughing and playing loud games of Exploding Snap. He was at least thankful that not all of his classmates were having fun. He looked around at the fifth-years and recalled the panic that had driven him during the last days before his O.W.L. exams. They were clearly faring no better than he had. He smiled briefly at the memory and then set back to work digging through his notes. The sun slipped slowly down below the horizon and soon the flickering red firelight was all that illuminated his books. The common room emptied slowly of students until there were only a handful of fifth and seventh years left. Harry was now so deeply absorbed in his studying that he actually jumped a little when a hand touched his arm. He turned quickly, finding Ginny struggling to pull herself up from the seat next to him. She gave up after a moment and fell back against the thick cushions, yawning greatly. Harry watched her as she closed her eyes for a moment, looking very sleepy. Her hair fell down around her shoulders and piled up on the cushion behind her head. Once again, Harry found himself utterly mesmerized by the crimson firelight dancing through her hair. All he could think was that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Suddenly, his chest tightened and his heart sped up for no reason at all, just as she opened her eyes looking directly into his. For a moment he saw the firelight reflecting against the deep brown but then quickly directed his gaze at his hands, feeling nearly as awkward as Ginny suddenly looked. She collected her things and got up quickly, muttering ‘Good night’ to them all and stopping only to talk briefly to Neville before she made her way up the stairs. Neville looked quite relieved as she walked away. He picked up his own books and took the now empty seat by Harry. “Hi, Harry,” he said, “d’ya mind if I sit here? It’s kind of breezy over there and my notes keep falling on the floor.” As he said this, his hands slipped and once again his piles of parchment went sliding noisily to the floor. Flustered, he reached down and started collecting them again, turning very red in the face. Harry shook his head vaguely, still gazing at the door where Ginny had just disappeared, hardly aware of what Neville had said. Hermione looked compassionately at Neville and bent over to help collect his notes. When she returned to her seat, her face suddenly lit up with excitement. “Neville, it’s getting kind of late you know. Why don’t you go on to bed and I’ll reorganize all of your class notes? That way you won’t waste time tonight having to shuffle through them all.” Neville looked at her for a moment as if she were trying to pull a joke on him, then tentatively answered. “Okay. Well, thanks then. I’ll… I’ll see you in the morning.” He got up slowly and glanced back at Hermione every few steps toward the door, as if she were going to start laughing at any moment and say it really was a joke. Finally when the door had closed quietly and Harry and Ron had set back to work, Hermione spread the many loose parchments around her and started sorting through them. “Poor guy, Neville,” Ron said, his quill between his teeth. “Just can’t catch a break.” “Yeah,” Harry murmured, not taking his eyes off his notes. Hermione looked happily around her, smiling like a child at Christmas. She hummed quietly to herself as she continued to sort. “Hermione?” Harry asked curiously, looking up at her, “What about your classes? You’ve hardly studied in days now. Aren’t you a bit nervous? I mean, you’re normally the Study Queen.” Ron snorted a little but kept his eyes carefully on his own work, ignoring the scathing look Hermione shot him. She turned to Harry, her look softening. “Well, see, it’s like Ron said. Poor Neville, he just… well, these things always happen to him, don’t they? And really, it’s so hard to study when your notes are all out of order. He’ll be much better off when I’m finished with this.” She gestured around happily at the mess in front of her. Harry and Ron exchanged looks then went back to their own work, choking back the urge to laugh. Ron, though, couldn’t hold back a small snicker. “Oh ho, Ron,” she said coolly, “you’d do much better yourself, you know, if you spent more time putting your notes in order and less time playing silly games like wizard’s chess. I could have helped you but then you never asked, so it’s just your loss now.” Ron looked like he wasn’t quite sure how to answer this. He opened his mouth as if to reply then closed it and went studiously back to work. Hermione merely continued to sort Neville’s things into small piles. Harry, on the other hand, eyed both of them suspiciously and thought he detected a hint of red in Hermione’s cheeks, while Ron’s ears were rather pink. Doing his best to ignore them, he returned to his Potions recipes and the biting fear that coursed through him with each new page. The remainder of their weekend was spent in and around the common room, sitting quietly together reading through old books and sharing each other’s notes. They took almost no notice of anyone else and managed to do just as friends normally do. Harry and Ron broke the silence once in a while with talk of Quidditch and how much they would miss it. Hermione scolded them when they missed answers to her quizzing, though she always gave them the correct ones afterward; Ginny laughed at all their jokes and was in general happy and friendly, most especially when Harry was helping her with her studying. When Monday morning finally reared its ugly head, Harry awoke with a start and looked blearily around the room. Without his glasses, it appeared that everyone else was still asleep. Judging by the faint pink color of the morning light, he guessed it was still early. Relaxing back into his pillow for a moment, he hoped for a few more minutes of sleep. It was no use though, and instead he slipped quietly out of bed and headed down to the common room. There was no fire in the hearth to light his way but the sun was waking a bit more now. What had been pink upstairs was now a soft sort of orange. It bathed the walls around the side windows and gave the whole room a very comforting feel. Harry dropped down on one of the seats by a window and looked out over the grounds, still feeling a bit drowsy. His head came to rest on one arm, held up by the thick back cushion of the chair and he pulled a leg up and rested his other arm around his knee. Looking back out through the window, the rippling glass gave the grounds a wistful sort of touch. He felt himself giving in to the warmth and light of the room. His eyes dropped slowly shut and his head slipped down to rest comfortably on the cushion. Soon, he was asleep again. Morning dreams are often unusual, but for Harry, there was nothing much to speak of in the first dreams that came. He dreamed he was late for his Potions exam and Professor Snape was going to fail him. He dreamed that Dumbledore was making him go back to the Dursleys’ after leaving Hogwarts, saying he wouldn’t be safe anywhere else and that he was going to have to share a room with Dudley. But as his dreams progressed they continued to get worse. Voldemort had captured all of his friends and he was left only with Neville to fight on his side. Ron and Hermione got married and left, moving far away, while Ginny got a job in another country, leaving Harry all by himself. Eventually, his dreams seemed to settle down again. The last dream that morning found him standing in the middle of a large, very ornately decorated hall, filled with the sounds of a beautiful symphony. The room was completely empty and his heart was strangely light. He closed his eyes and listened to the swirling music, letting it pull him around the floor. Suddenly, the music gave way to absolute silence, a silence so complete it stifled his senses. He slowly opened his eyes, wanting to make sure everything was okay. The sight before him was enough to wake him forcefully and startle him back to reality. He sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes, trying to account for everything in front of him. The window, the chair, the empty fire grate, they all swam into view as his brain ratcheted back into action. He knew he was in the common room and that it was still early in the morning, but what about the dream? What had he seen and where was it happening? He closed his eyes tightly and tried to recall the last remnants of the dream before it slipped away. A room… music… dancing, then silence… and darkness. The scene before him was one of chaos and panic. It flickered in and out like an old movie lost to time, with darkened edges and missing scenes. There were Death Eaters, so many that he couldn’t count. They were flooding the room, attacking mercilessly. They were coming straight for him while Ron and Hermione grabbed him and pulled him away. The room flickered. Two Death Eaters had Ginny by the arms and were dragging her out the door, kicking and screaming. It flickered again. For one brief moment, Harry saw her turn, saw the fear in her eyes, and then saw her disappear. His hands shook with panic as he tried to get up. Someone had to know! Something had to be done! He stumbled blindly across the room, colliding face-first with someone just emerging from the girls’ dormitory. He landed hard, sprawled out across the floor. Pain shot through is nose and cheek, making his eyes water. He felt for his glasses but they had landed several feet away. Still, he knew he had to get up and find the portrait hole. His friends were in trouble and he was the only one who knew. “Harry?” a small voice called from the floor nearby. His mind came to a dead halt and cold sweat prickled on his forehead. “Ginny?” he whispered, rolling slowly over but still unable to see. “Harry,” her voice quivered, “are you all right? What’s happening? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” It took a moment for his senses to register properly and he felt the heat rising into his face as he filled with anger against himself. He had done it again. He had gone off without thinking, without accounting for what he had really seen. And now he had hurt Ginny. Hurt her because he was in such a hurry to tell someone about a silly dream. His anger quickly gave way to shame and guilt and he was glad he couldn’t see the reproachful look he knew he was getting from her. This was exactly what the Teacher had been trying to teach him not to do. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he groaned. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” “No,” she said, “but what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost, sort of.” He found his glasses and put them on, wincing as they touched a cut on his nose. Turning to Ginny, he studied her face for a moment and was surprised to see that she wasn’t upset at all. In fact, he was even more shocked when he realized that she looked concerned - concerned and something else, like she was genuinely worried about him. Yet somehow it just seemed to make him feel worse. Attempting to get up off the floor, he found that his knee had collided with something on the way down and was now throbbing quite painfully. He shook and stumbled a little. In a moment, Ginny was at his arm helping him sit gingerly on the nearest sofa. The cut on his face still stung his eyes and he was feeling a bit unstable. She helped him sit and then took the seat beside him to inspect his injuries with a gentle hand. “Hold on, Harry, you didn’t answer me. Is everything all right?” “Yes,” he said, looking away from her. “It’s fine, I just… had a dream, that’s all.” She reached over to touch his hand. “I know what that’s like,” she said softly. “I have those dreams all the time. But you’re going to be fine now. It wasn’t real.” The sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs from above. “See, everyone’s still here, there’s nothing to worry about. They’re fine and you’re fine. Now let’s get dressed and get some breakfast. There’s lots to do today.” She walked away, waving quickly and smiling as she turned to go up the steps to the girls’ rooms. “Yeah, but it was you I was worried about, not me,” he muttered to himself as he struggled to his feet. The trip up so many stairs wasn’t a welcoming thought and he decided that, like it or not, he was going to have to go down to the Great Hall in his pajamas. Not that that was so very unusual. It was common practice during exam time for students to wear their pajamas to meals and while studying. They felt comfortable in them and because of their study habits, many found it quite helpful to just roll into, or out of, bed. The teachers, however, rather frowned upon it and could often be seen scowling when a student clad in such things passed by. Professor McGonagall in particular always seemed to don a scornful look when she saw students so informally attired. She certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind on these matters, either. Many students were sent back to their dormitories by her to put on “more appropriate attire for school.” Harry arrived for his first exam after a fairly quiet breakfast with his friends. Although not particularly hungry, he was happy to accept a piece of toast from Ginny. It helped bring him to his senses more than anything else had that morning. Having stowed all of his exam-taking necessities in the common room, a quick trip up and back, along with a change of clothes, was all it took to get to class. Because of it, Harry found himself rather earlier than usual. He decided to take advantage of the time to get just a little more cramming done. As he pulled his book out, Draco Malfoy arrived with Crabbe and Goyle. Harry had always admired Hermione for her ability to resist the jabs and spikes spread throughout Malfoy’s talk. He never could seem to master it himself. To Harry, it was as if Malfoy knew just which buttons to press to make him seethe with anger. He knew today would be no different. Trying to keep the trouble to a minimum, he simply put away his things and stood quietly to lean against the wall. Predictably, Malfoy strutted directly over to him, trying to look as high and mighty as possible. Crabbe and Goyle merely followed stupidly behind him. It was then that a thought struck Harry. What if the Teacher was right? What if, by rising above his enemy, he could overcome him? It would take all of his strength and determination but Harry felt that today, for the first time, he might be able to do it. Summoning up his willpower, he looked Malfoy in the eye and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. “Well, well, Potter. Made it this far, have you? Think they’re going to just keep letting you skate by? Famous Harry Potter and all? I’ll bet they don’t do it this time. They’ll fail you and you’ll have to go back to those Muggles, since you don’t have a proper family.” Crabbe and Goyle laughed mechanically and waited to do Malfoy’s bidding. Harry was struck by how similar it looked to the time when he had seen Mr. Malfoy giving commands to Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, and had to restrain himself from laughing at the thought. Harry wrinkled his forehead for a moment, then shook his head and said, “Nope, you’ll have to do better than that. It’s not up to your usual standard.” Malfoy looked at him angrily and spoke in a deadly whisper. “You’d better watch it, Potter. You may have escaped the Dark Lord before but he’s gaining power every day and soon it will be your turn.” Harry stared back at Malfoy, trying to decide what he was really saying. Was there real meaning in his words or was he just trying to start a row? But then another tack occurred to him and he went with it, keeping his voice calmer than ever. “Look, Malfoy, I’m sorry your dad’s a Death Eater but there’s no reason to take his mistakes out on others. You should try to rise above his poor decisions.” Malfoy’s face turned white and he sputtered and spit, finally turning and stalking off in a fury. Happy with his victory, Harry turned back to his bag and picked it up, walking straight through the door which Professor Flitwick had just magically opened. Harry found a seat on the left side of the room, taking advantage of a cool shadow created by one of the large arches, and pulled out his quill and parchment. In what seemed like only a minute, the room filled up and he saw the telltale bushy brown hair followed closely by a plume of red that could only mean Hermione and Ron had arrived. A good thing, too, he realized, glancing at his watch, because the exam was set to begin in only a few minutes. Ron plopped his things down on the table next to Harry and spilled his parchment on the floor, cursing under his breath. “Harry, how’d you get here so fast?” Ron asked, coming back up from retrieving his escaped parchments. “Oh, I had my bag ready before breakfast,” Harry evaded. He felt his face heat up a little remembering why he was up so early and who he had run into. Ron looked at him suspiciously, so Harry merely shrugged and said, “Couldn’t sleep.” About that time, Professor Flitwick set off a bang from his wand and spoke up in his high squeaky voice. “Ladies and Gentlemen, and I trust I can say that now that you are nearly adults… your examiner is here.” He gestured to a man slinking in the shadows of a far corner of the room. “Professor Snape, I give you the Hogwarts N.E.W.T. Charms class for your examination.” Snape strode quickly to the front of the room and nodded curtly to Professor Flitwick, who bowed slightly in return and quietly exited the room. When all the faces that followed had returned to the front, Snape spoke. His voice was deeper than normal and had a strange, ethereal quality. It seemed to hold them all in a trance as he gave his instructions. Not a word was spoken but by him as they prepared their materials. He instructed them on where they would sit, what kinds of quills were allowed, how to cover their parchment properly, and how to seal it when they were finished. Harry had never before been uncomfortable in this classroom but he found Snape’s presence unnerving. Between answering exam questions he couldn’t help but cautiously eye the man for any unusual behavior. He didn’t think he was alone in the matter either. Hermione was clearly nervous, looking up so frequently that she lost her place more than once and then scrambled to find where she had left off. Even Ron glanced up at him a few times with a concerned look. As Harry answered question after question, he was surprised at the ease of it, in spite of hardly having studied. He even laughed a little to himself when he got to the question on Cheering Charms. He easily remembered what had happened to Ron a few years earlier when he had got a little carried away. Walking down the corridor after the exam, Harry was surprised at how good he felt. Everyone had always warned them that the N.E.W.T. exams were the hardest they’d ever take but he really thought that it wasn’t so bad. He also noticed that Ron didn’t seem as stressed as he normally would after a major exam. Hermione, of course, fretted a bit and wanted to go over the questions again. They cut her off quickly and she didn’t even bother pursuing it. On the way back up to the common room for a bit of study time before lunch, they met up with Ginny. “Hi,” she said, looking around at them. “Have fun?” Ron merely shrugged. Hermione looked like she wanted to tell Ginny all about it but she deferred with her eyes to Harry. “It was… fine,” he started. “Well, really, it was easier than I expected. I hope they’re all like this, except for having Snape as the examiner. He’s was a little creepy today, I mean more than usual.” After lunch, they continued studying in earnest. With five exams each, they would have one every day of the week and then the whole next week for relaxing while the rest of the school completed their own exams. It was kind of a treat for the students who would be leaving the school after their N.E.W.T.’s. It was one last chance to enjoy the school and its grounds without the stress of classes. Many of them, Hermione included, would probably spend much of that time worrying about their results but most simply enjoyed the warm weather and strolled lazily about the grounds. They would reminisce about their years at the school and discuss jobs and prospects for the future. With four more exams to go, Harry, Ron and Hermione set to studying hard for their most important one, Defense Against the Dark Arts, which would take place on Tuesday. Again, as in previous years, it was Harry they turned to for most of the answers. Though Hermione excelled in all of her classes, she had to admit that Harry always beat her in Defense. Even Ginny broke from her study routine just to sit with them and benefit from Harry’s expertise. The subject always came easy to Harry, as few others had. He could remember the spells, the situations, the reactions, just like he had performed them yesterday. And in some cases, he had performed them yesterday. The fight against Voldemort had resulted in a hunger for Defense knowledge that the school had rarely seen. After a full day and half a night of research, discussion, and practice, they declared themselves ready to face their last exam ever in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry went to bed feeling a mix of exhaustion, anxiety, and sadness about never having the class again. He waved goodnight to his friends and climbed the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. After a quick change into pajamas, he dropped into his four-poster bed and went straight to sleep without even pulling the curtains shut. The night was unusually quiet for Harry and he woke the next morning feeling remarkably rested and prepared. He was confident they had done all the studying they could possibly do, and while never quite sure what to expect from this class, he was reasonably confident he would do well. At breakfast he observed Hermione and Ron both looking very tired and being unseasonably cool with one another. They didn’t seem upset and were still courteous to each other but, as Harry knew, that often indicated a disagreement of some kind had taken place. He thought back and realized that he hadn’t noticed Ron follow him up to their room last night. That probably meant that they had argued about something and it was still unresolved. Having long ago abandoned any hope of assisting in their problems, Harry wisely ignored them and ate his breakfast in silence until Ginny arrived. “Hi, Harry, ready for today’s exams?” “Mm-hmm,” he said through a mouthful of sausage. She smiled and went about her business, finally picking up a piece of toast and asking Harry quietly if he wanted her to butter it for him. “Sure, er, thanks… and maybe some jam.” “I know,” she smiled. He looked torn between amusement and embarrassment that anybody should pay him such attention but accepted the token from her anyway. “So, what’s up with you two?” she asked, pointing her bacon at Ron and Hermione. “Nothing. Why do you ask?” said Hermione primly. “Oh, the way you two aren’t talking. That and the fact that I heard you rowing last night.” Harry was, once again, impressed with Ginny’s ability for acute and perceptive observations, especially regarding her family. He looked at her with open admiration for a moment, then turned back to the others not wanting to miss the explanation. Finally Ron spoke up, “Well, if Hermione would admit when she’s wrong, we’d all be having a lot pleasanter breakfast, wouldn’t we?” Hermione glared at him and then turned back to Ginny. “Well, I can’t help it if some people still don’t like Crookshanks. I think he’s sweet.” She pouted a little and Ron almost looked sorry, but didn’t say so. “Well,” said Ginny, “I hope you get it worked out soon, because you have a lot more studying to do, and it’s no good not working together. Besides, you’ve got a Defense exam coming up in a bit and you need to have all of your wits about you. It’s no good if you lose your focus by thinking about other things. You need to be calm and relaxed, with no other thoughts on your mind. So work it out!” And she went back to eating her breakfast, as if what she had said was nothing more important than wondering when the mail would arrive. Ron gaped at her, quite bewildered. Hermione looked impressed but kept her smile aimed at the table in front of her. It was a few long moments before anyone spoke. “Ginny, when did you get so smart?” asked Ron with raised eyebrows. “Well, in case you didn’t notice, I am in sixth year now, Ron,” she said scathingly, “and besides, Harry’s a good teacher and he told us that once.” Harry looked on, amazed and impressed by her again. He remembered saying something to that affect but never believed it would be taken in such a way. It was hard enough for him to convince himself he was right, much less believe anyone was actually paying attention to him. “Ginny,” he said quietly, very aware that the others were listening, “I can’t believe you remembered that.” He knew his ears were getting red and he ducked his head just a little more. “Well,” she breathed, “you’re a good teacher and I thought it was important to remember.” Even Ron smiled at that, and with a quick apology to Hermione, he left the Great Hall to go clean himself up. The rest of the meal went better, with Hermione deciding she would accept his apology and then explaining that Crookshanks had tried to eat some of Ron’s class notes the night before. It had ended in a heated argument over the cat. Harry only smiled, knowing all too well the way his friends could be, about even the smallest things. After breakfast they made their way slowly down to the dungeons where the exam was to be given. Harry didn’t like the idea of being tested against the Dark Arts so close to Snape’s classroom but all he could do was point it out to his friends, who assured him that things would be fine and then went back to their own conversation without a second thought. Harry wasn’t so sure however, especially when he walked through the door to find the very man waiting silently at the front of the room. His appearance was even more eerie in the dim light of the dungeon, aided by the fact that as his eyes followed them to their seats, he didn’t blink at all. Harry shuddered as he sat down, glancing about to get a feel for the room. It had become something of a habit for him, getting to know the space around him, looking for any possible enemies and learning all available exits. The Teacher had started him on it about their third visit and now it was just an unconscious reaction wherever he went. Harry continued to look around, hopeful of seeing their normal teacher, but to no avail. When Professor Dumbledore had announced at the beginning of the year that he would be filling the open position in Defense Against the Dark Arts, there was a great deal of noisy celebrating, especially from Gryffindor House. Harry had often wondered if Professor Dumbledore would teach the class, given the times in which they were living. It seemed natural for such a man to spread his unsurpassed knowledge to those who would be dealing with it all personally just as soon as they left Hogwarts. Harry had to smile remembering that Opening Feast and the hope it inspired in them all. Of course, it hadn’t been all fun and games. Dumbledore was one of the most challenging teachers any of them had ever had. The spells were more complex, more difficult, more prone to failure than any they’d ever dealt with. But unlike other classes and other teachers, the students took it as a personal challenge to rise to the occasion, and they did so gloriously. Harry had never seen so much improvement in some of his classmates than during that year they studied under the Headmaster. He thought briefly of Neville mastering many new charms and spells during the time of the DA, but even his mastery didn’t compare with some of what Harry had seen over the last year. Even Harry himself recognized new habits in his studying and practicing and he attributed them to Defense class. On this day, however, Harry couldn’t muster up any of those good feelings. It seemed that this man in front of him could dim the very light in the room with his presence. Harry hoped that there would be no practical portion to this exam, just so he wouldn’t have to meet Snape face to face. Harry shuddered at the cold in the room, crossing his fingers briefly and hoping to get it over with and quickly get out. The exams were distributed and to Harry’s relief, there was to be no practical exam. He was concerned, however, when he found pages and pages of detailed questions covering all aspects of Defense, from Dark creatures to Unforgivable Curses, anti-jinx spells to security wards. It seemed there was nothing left out, and so he started writing. He read and answered question after question. Is it possible to defend one’s self against an Unforgivable Curse? He certainly knew the answer to that. What are the effects of a Dementor on a Muggle? He remembered what happened to Dudley when they were attacked in the alley. Name an effective way to detain a Dark wizard in an unsecured area. He thought of Dumbledore binding several Death Eaters with an Anti-Apparition jinx. Looking over at Ron and Hermione, he saw that they, too, were writing just as fast as they could ink their quills. Hermione even had a smear of ink on her cheek from where she wiped off a stray drop. Harry had told them everything about every one of his encounters and just as much they had witnessed for themselves. It looked to Harry like this would be the easiest exam of them all. ***** “Well, that was easy,” said Hermione brightly, as they walked the corridor back to Gryffindor tower. Harry nodded his head absently, his brow crinkled up in thought until Ron elbowed him in the side. “Ouch, what? Oh, yeah, that was easy. So what’s going on? I mean, there’s no reason for this. Everyone’s always said ‘The N.E.W.T.s are the hardest exams you’ll ever take’, and I believed them. Something just doesn’t feel right but I don’t know what it is.” He growled in frustration. “Harry,” said Hermione, “I think it’s just because we’re so well prepared. We’ve been through so much and studied so hard. Studying does make a difference, you know.” “Well,” Ron moaned, “I can’t believe we’ve had bloody Snape for two exams, plus he’ll be there for Potions!” Hermione shot him a look but suddenly froze, holding out her hands and stopping them so fast that Harry almost tripped over his own feet. He pulled his wand in a flash and saw that Ron also had his on the tips of his fingers. He felt his chest tighten and strained his ears to listen for whatever had spooked Hermione. When he heard it, a very different feeling rose in his chest, overpowering and eclipsing the worry that had been there a moment ago. It was a monster he rarely felt, struggling to get out, to protect and to fight. His eyes burned with fire and a ringing filled his ears. The looks on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces turned to alarm at the sudden change in him and they glanced at each other in concern. Harry broke free from them, his robes billowing out behind him and his wand raised in his hand. A strange power seemed to radiate from him. When they rounded the corner into the next corridor, time seemed to pause for a moment. Harry blinked, willing his eyes to change what they were seeing. Up against the wall, like a frightened cat, stood Ginny. The contents of her bag were strewn across the floor at the bottom of a flight of stairs and her hand, with her wand in it, was hanging limp and defeated at her side. Harry followed the length of another wand, an arm, and then a face. A face that belonged to Draco Malfoy. He was laughing mercilessly, even cruelly at Ginny, as Crabbe and Goyle leered in the background. Harry lifted his wand and took one step forward, using every bit of strength to hold back the monster inside. Malfoy looked briefly at him and only laughed harder. “What’s the matter, Potter? Come to save your girlfriend? I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Why would you bother with something like this… disgusting, isn’t it?” Malfoy glanced back at Crabbe and Goyle, who took a moment to catch on, then pointed and laughed as they were supposed to. But he didn’t see that in the moment when he turned his head, Ginny looked to Harry and their eyes met. In a flash, a shock went through his body and he knew… he knew to leave her alone and let her handle it. He couldn’t say how he knew, he just knew. She turned her head back and Harry lowered his wand. A sick smile spread across Malfoy’s face, “Oho, so you do agree. Not worth the effort after all, is she? Well, can’t say I blame you. Of course, it’s not going to stop me hexing her just because I feel like it.” “That’s what you think,” said a small voice from the wall. Malfoy turned back to Ginny. Hatred filled his face and he spit at her feet. “What did you just say?” His eyes narrowed. She spoke more clearly this time and Harry could see the fire starting to ignite in her eyes. He had to hold back a smile. “I said, that’s what you think.” “How dare you even talk to me, you—“ But what she was, Harry never found out. The concentration it took for Malfoy to hate so intensely left him vulnerable for a split second. Ginny worked with such amazing speed that he could never have known what hit him. In a moment, Malfoy lay crumpled on the floor, clearly unconscious but otherwise apparently unharmed. Crabbe and Goyle squinted their beady eyes at each other and took off down the corridor, howling nonsense at each other. It was only then that time seemed to return to its normal pace. Harry turned and realized that Ron and Hermione were both standing by his sides, gripping his arms, which were now quite numb. Ginny lowered her wand and made sure to step on Malfoy as she walked back toward the stairs to collect her things. Harry shook his head once and in a few quick strides was beside her. “Here, let me get this,” he said firmly, and with a sweep of his wand, everything flew back into her repaired bag and into his hands. “Thanks,” she said, reddening in the face a little, “I, er… thanks.” “No, thank you. That was amazing.” “What happened?” called Ron, as he, too stepped on Malfoy on his way to meet them. Ginny threw her hair back over her shoulder, trying to flatten it quickly with her hand and then began to explain. “I just got out of Transfiguration and thought I’d try to meet you, to see how your exam went, when this git came out of nowhere and split my bag with his wand.” “Bloody hell,” muttered Ron, looking disgusted. “So then those other two lugs came up behind me and Malfoy started threatening me with all kinds of things: hexes, jinxes, Dark magic he probably doesn’t even know. And I was a little scared there for a second. Then Harry came running around the corner and Malfoy was distracted just long enough for me to give him what he deserved.” There was a sudden gleam in her eye. Ron stood speechless, his mouth hanging open for a moment. He glanced back and forth from Ginny to Malfoy, incredulous. “But… but what if we hadn’t come? What if there had been no one around at all?” “Ron, mate,” Harry said reassuringly, “we did come. Anyway, it looks like she can take care of herself well enough. I mean, blimey, look what she did to Malfoy – he’s still out cold!” He laughed appreciatively. Ron looked skeptical, “Are you sure you’re all right? He didn’t get you at all?” “No, Ron, I’m fine,” she answered. “Really.” “Well, that filthy… slimy…,” Ron shivered a little as the memories came back. “Let’s go. I don’t even want to look at him.” They started to make their way down the corridor toward the portrait hole, when Ron suddenly turned to Ginny. “What did you use on him, anyway? I’d like to learn that one. Bloody useful, that is.” “Ron!” Hermione gave him a shocked look. “Sorry, but he did deserve it. Filthy Slytherin.” “Ron, they’re not all bad, you know. And Dumbledore still says unity is the best way to defeat You-Know-Who. It’s only going to be harder if we fight amongst ourselves.” “Fine, you go off and make friends with the Slytherins. I’m going to stay here.” Then as an afterthought he added morosely, “We’ve got to go study for Herbology anyway.” “Too right we do,” said Harry, “and we should keep working on Transfiguration and Potions. I bet Snape’s just looking for a way to finish me off. This is his last chance,” he added darkly, just as they stepped through the portrait hole. “Hold on,” Ron said, “Ginny never told me what she used.” “And I’m not going to Ron – not yet. It still needs some work and I haven’t had a lot of spare time lately.” Ron started to say something but she interrupted him, saying again that she wasn’t ready to give up her secret and he would just have to wait. After trying one more time, Ron finally gave up and proceeded upstairs to collect his books and notes for studying. Harry did the same but for the rest of the day his concentration was lacking due to visions of Ginny dropping Malfoy with one hit. It was all he needed to keep him distracted from the sorrows of studying and the continued bickering of his other two friends. ***** On Wednesday they had their Herbology exam in greenhouse five, which contained some of the most difficult and dangerous plants on the Hogwarts grounds. They had worked in it off and on throughout the year and mostly knew which plants to avoid. Fortunately, nothing more exciting happened than Ron losing a few arm hairs to the Sticky Snowdrop, which lunged at him after he announced that he thought it looked ‘girly with its little white flowers.’ Massaging his arm gently on their walk back across the grounds, Ron continued to rant as Hermione patiently explained her point of view. “Well, you did kind of deserve it, Ron. I mean, it does have little white flowers, but it’s a really useful plant. Don’t you remember what Professor Sprout said it could do for dragon bites?” “No, that’s why we have you,” he muttered under his breath, nudging Harry in the arm with a glint in his eye. “She said,” continued Hermione loudly, ignoring him, “it can heal almost any dragon bite, and all dragon bites are poisonous – if you don’t get help in a matter of hours, it will kill you. Of course, it doesn’t work on Horntail bites,” she looked at Harry apologetically, “but it does prolong the survival time.” Harry remembered all too well the Horntail he had faced during the Triwizard Tournament, and was now even more thankful he hadn’t been bitten. “So anyway,” she continued to Ron, “I think you got what you deserved.” “Well, thanks for that. Now have you got anything that’ll help with some raw skin?” he said dryly. Hermione merely glanced at him with a sharp look and they continued up to the castle. On Thursday morning they sat their Transfiguration exam, thankfully administered by Professor McGonagall. Harry wasn’t sorry at all to see her as they entered the room. After the two he’d experienced with Snape starting the week, Professor McGonagall seemed like a kind and thoughtful friend. Not that Harry minded her sometimes sharp wit and authority. On the contrary, over the years he had learned to appreciate it because there was no half-done work with Professor McGonagall. She expected a lot from her students and nearly always got what she asked for. Even now, sitting the last exam for her of his Hogwarts career, Harry had little time to reminisce about the class and everything he’d learned in it. He was too busy scratching down answers as fast as his quill could move. After completing the written portion, he wiped the splattered ink off his face and tried to calm his nerves for the practical examination. Each student was required to stand and perform a full Transfiguration of a portion of their anatomy, in full view of the rest of the class. Harry tried to imagine Neville in this situation and felt a little bad at the laughter that it caused inside his head. Shaking it off when his name was called, he walked cautiously to the front of the room, very much aware of how many eyes were on him. Even after everything he’d been through, even as famous as he was, he could never get used to the attention. Professor McGonagall observed him with a calculating look over her glasses, and handed him a half-parchment with his instructions. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test for the seventh year Hogwarts class of Transfiguration To: Mr. Harry Potter, second row from the front, third desk from the right Dear Mr. Potter, having fully completed all standard requirements for the class of Transfiguration, you must now prove your knowledge in this complex and challenging area by successfully following the instructions given below. Your examiner will observe your results and may request further actions at his/her discretion. Good luck. Please add or Transfigure the following portions of your anatomy: 1. Wings – two, white feathers, medium sized, connecting to the spine just below the shoulder blades, full nervous system control required. Clothing should adjust itself to this addition with no skin visible. 2. Hair – white, shoulder-length, straight, even in length, and for an extra point: parted down the middle. Harry raised one eyebrow in wonder, and laughed out loud in spite of himself. “Really, Professor?” “Yes, Mr. Potter, really.” Harry suddenly realized he shouldn’t be surprised. He had already watched one person required to sprout a single unicorn horn and another made to add a tail and two additional arms. He set the parchment on the table and held his wand tightly in his sweaty hand. Closing his eyes, he pictured the change exactly as it had been written – just as Professor McGonagall had taught them – and tried his best to aim his wand at his back. In a flash of blinding white light, his wand clattered to the floor and he opened his eyes, fearful of what he might behold. In the mirror before him stood a young man with black hair and green eyes, wearing glasses and a black robe, and sprouting a pair of brilliant white wings from the middle of his back. The sensation of carrying wings on his back made him dizzy for a moment. As the murmurs from the class picked up, he forced himself to remember that this was only a class and that the change was not permanent. Stooping to pick up his wand, he accidentally swiped a few pages from the front desks onto the floor with his new appendages. He smiled weakly at Ron, who was beating his fist on his desk and wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Hermione, looking beet red, was covering up a smile with her hand and looking at him unusually fondly. Harry felt his own ears grow a little red as he picked up the small parchment again and reread the second set of instructions. Steeling himself for yet another Transfiguration, he set about his work as before. Closing his eyes, he patiently tried to picture it: shoulder-length, straight, white hair, parted down the middle. He concentrated hard on that image and readied his wand. He briefly wondered what Ginny would think if she could see him now. He could envision her laughing, her copper hair dancing around her shoulders, her brown eyes glittering with delight…. In another flash of light, he spoke the incantation and shakily dropped his wand in his pocket. Hearing a gasp from the class, he hesitated to open his eyes, fearing something had gone horribly wrong and he was now a warthog, or worse. He braced himself and opened his eyes, staring straight into the mirror. To his utter horror he found he had not given himself straight, white, shoulder-length hair. He had somehow Transfigured his own to be straight, red, shoulder-length hair – exactly like Ginny’s. His eyes met Ron’s and the look on Ron’s face was barely-concealed mirth. Clearly Ron knew exactly what had happened, and Harry now knew it, too. A deep red overspread his face, and he felt his hands growing hot. Pure embarrassment filled him and he turned back toward the front of the room. A brief pop and a flash of light brought him back to reality, only to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the corner, holding a camera. Harry panicked but Dumbledore held up a single hand, pointing the camera toward Harry’s desk, and indicating that the picture would only go to him. Not that he wanted it, though. He knew he would never live this down. He also knew that Ginny should never, ever find out. On their way back to the common room – Harry minus his wings and with his original black hair – Ron continued to chide him at every opportunity. “Harry,” he laughed, “you really should have seen yourself.” “I did, mate, in the mirror and in the picture.” Harry said crossly. Ron continued to laugh, even starting to choke. Hermione was apparently still rather taken with Harry’s wings, and ogled him occasionally, even with the dark looks that shot across Ron’s face every time she did. “Harry, the wings were beautiful, so white, and they looked really soft. How did they feel?” “They felt… I don’t know. I guess I was expecting them to be heavy but I could hardly feel them.” He saw the look on her face. “Hey, it’s not like I was going to keep them or anything, so stop that. The hair didn’t match anyway.” “Well,” said Ron, “I don’t know why you had to tell us this way. You could have just been open about it.” “Tell you what?” asked Harry. “Tell us what!?! Harry, if you’re going out with my sister, I should be the first to know. You should have told me right away, and – “ “Ron. Ron! I’m not going out with your sister. What are you talking about?” “You’re… you’re not? But what was with the hair then? I mean…” He gestured questioningly with his hands. Harry reddened a little, “I… I don’t know. Everything was perfect except the color – it was supposed to be white.” “Yeah well, you missed that by a long shot.” An evil look crossed Ron’s face, “So, how much is it worth to you for us not to tell her?” “Ron!” Hermione practically shouted. “Harry, of course we’re not going to tell her. Are we, Ron?” He looked dejected, “Well, no, but I think Harry should tell her. If you like her, you’ve got a weird way of showing it, Harry.” “But I don’t like her… I mean… well, but I thought you didn’t want me to like her? Not that I do, but…” Ron sized him up and Harry looked slightly affronted. Finally Ron spoke again. “Well, mate, I don’t think she could do better, plus she’s liked you since first year.” Harry was left speechless. Hermione smiled broadly and touched Ron’s arm, at which he jumped and turned a little red but then smiled. “Listen, Harry, she’s my sister, and you’re my best friend. And I meant what I said, I really don’t think she could do better.” He thumped Harry on the back. Harry smiled and opened his mouth a couple of times but no words came out. They continued to walk down the corridor and Harry’s expression suddenly clouded over. “Ron,” he said darkly, “it doesn’t matter anyway. There are some things I don’t let myself… I can’t like anyone right now, even if it is… Ginny,” he choked. It was as if dark clouds had rolled in. Hermione and Ron had seen it too many times and knew it wasn’t worth the hassle right now. When Harry got this way it was best just to give him his space for a day or so and things would clear up. They spent the rest of the day buried in Potions notes, stopping to ask each other questions now and then, but mostly in silence. Harry preferred it that way. Ginny, having been warned by Hermione, stayed clear of the common room most of the rest of the day, and at breakfast the next morning, she sat down the table from them with a couple of other girls from her year. The one thing she did, though, was give Harry a piece of toast, which she wrapped in a napkin and left with Hermione to deliver. ***** Sitting in the cold dungeon of Snape’s Potions classroom was about the last place Harry felt like being the next morning. In addition to still being upset about what had happened during yesterday’s Transfiguration exam, he hadn’t slept well last night and he was also a little worried about why Ginny hadn’t sat with them at breakfast. She had still left a piece of toast for him but she hadn’t said a word to him since lunch yesterday. He thought perhaps someone had told her about what he did and she was mad at him, but it just didn’t seem like her to do that. The other possibility was that someone had warned her not to be around him, after what he said in the corridor to Ron and Hermione. Mostly he was ashamed of it but a part of him still needed to push her away. It was the only way he could keep himself safe and he tried to convince himself it would be better for her that way, too. As the room silenced with the entrance of Professor Snape, it occurred to Harry that he had to shake off yesterday’s problems or he would never do well on today’s exam. The clock struck ten and a list of ingredients suddenly appeared on the board, followed by instructions for the most complex potion Harry had every seen, including the Polyjuice Potion they had brewed in second year. The students moved about the room noiselessly and although the class had never been loud, the complete silence seemed eerie to him. Next to Harry on either side were Ron and Hermione but there was no time to see how they were doing due to the concentration required for this potion. Some of the ingredients were so fresh that they were grown specially by Professor Sprout and brought into the room still in their pots. Others were so dangerous that they were kept in locked cabinets that only Snape could access, and were tracked and recorded by magical parchments on each shelf. Still others were so expensive and rare they were only used once a year for this very exam. Having reached the mid-point of the exam, Harry raised his wand for his first inspection. Snape appeared from nowhere and sneered when he could find nothing wrong with Harry’s potion. “Apparently today is your lucky day, Potter. But don’t let your head get too big, the most difficult part is yet to come and I for one will be surprised if you don’t screw it up. After all, that is only natural for you.” Harry fumed silently for a moment, then forced himself to calm down. He felt a small nudge in his back and turned to see Hermione smiling covertly at him on the way back to her cauldron. It boosted his confidence enough to continue, even after seeing Snape send two other students out of the room after their potions were beyond the possibility of repair. Moving back up to the board, Snape erased the previous instructions and new ones appeared instantly. “You have one hour remaining,” he said. “Do try not to make mistakes. I don’t value your lives but I’d hate to fill out all the paperwork if you should wipe out an entire class. Continue.” The urgency in the room stepped up another notch and Harry wiped sweat from his brow, his concentration evident in the many creases on his face. He was working swiftly, trying to balance speed with accuracy, and keeping his fingers crossed that he was nearly done. With five minutes remaining, Harry was done adding ingredients and was now following the detailed instructions for how to finish the stirring. Once to the left, twice to the right, three times to the left, four times to the right, remove the ladle, dip it back in and stir four times counterclockwise, repeat five times, then stir back and forth twenty-three times. A moment later a voice spoke from the shadows. “Your time is up.” Snape stepped out with an ugly grin. “We will now see whether any of you has successfully brewed the Draught of the Living Death. If you are successful, one drop on a spider will cause it to appear dead for three minutes exactly, after which it will come back to life as if nothing had happened. If not, then you have failed, and you will have killed the spider. “Each of you bring up one small beaker of your potion to me and I will administer it. You will then go back to your seats and wait to see if you have brewed the Living Death, or if you have… not. Be thankful that the Headmaster would not allow me to test it on you. Most regrettable, in my opinion, because there are some of you who would do well to bring your work up a notch.” Harry stepped up into line and watched anxiously as a single drop of his potion was placed on a spider. He returned to his seat and entertained himself by watching Hermione standing on the tips of her toes trying to see her spider. Ron wasn’t nearly as interested. He sat on his stool, staring at the floor and looking slightly green. Harry decided not to bother him. As three minutes came and went, they were called up in turn to observe their results. Ron and Hermione both went first, and Harry was happy to see that Ron didn’t look too upset as he walked out the door. Hermione was nearly skipping. When his turn arrived, Harry walked quietly up to the desk and looked down at his jar. His spider lay motionless at the bottom. His breathing stopped for a moment, and he slowly pulled out his wand. His heart skipped a beat as he tapped the glass gently. A moment later the spider leaped back to life. Snape observed him as if looking at a particularly nasty pile of dragon dung. “Well, well, Potter. Today is your lucky day. You must have cheated but until I find out how, get out of my sight,” he growled. Harry ran for the door.
|