Harry Potter and the Battle of Hogwarts

Chapter 19 -

Discoveries

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The hallways were bare in the earliest hours of morning. The black wolf padded along below the portraits, silent and swift, making its way through hidden passages and up many stairs, disguised as a shadow in the faint pale light. When it reached the corridor of the Fat Lady's portrait, it paused behind a suit of armour for a flickering of a moment, and emerged in the form of a ragged looking Harry Potter. He had stayed up most of the night with Moony, just sitting with him, as he imagined Sirius and his father had once done. He didn't think Moony knew who he was, but there was no way of actually knowing.

Sleep hung over him as he walked quietly towards the portrait hole, attempting to keep his steps steady and head up. It kept drooping to his chest, where it threatened to stay there until sleep claimed it. The Fat Lady was dozing when Harry stopped before her frame and he stood listening to her deep breathing for a few moments before shaking his head.

“Intelligence is a virtue,” he mumbled, wondering who allowed Hermione to set such a password. The Fat Lady merely snorted and moved her head to the side. “Intelligence is a virtue.” He said it louder, but the Fat Lady still didn't move. Harry sighed and lifted an arm and poked the portrait's shoulder. She jerked awake, eyes widening and a hand hovering over her chest.

“W-what? Who is it?” she squinted out at Harry, who swayed on his feet.

“Intelligence is a virtue.”

“What? Well, that's great son, but no need to wake me up,” the Fat Lady snapped irritably.

Harry sighed. “It's the password: intelligence is a virtue.”

“Oh, right,” she said, running a hand through her slightly mussed hair. “Hurry up and get in then, I don't know what in Merlin's name you're doing up so early anyway!” The portrait swung open and Harry stumbled in, ignoring the Fat Lady's rambling, making his way across the silent Common Room. The fire had succumbed to a pile of glowing embers in the grate, giving the whole room an ethereal feel with splintering morning light peeking through the curtained window in the corner.

Harry tripped up the stairs more than once on his way to the sixth year boy's dormitory and sighed with relief when he pushed through the door. The other occupants of the room were all still asleep and would be for another hour if they were lucky. Ron was draped sideways across his bed, with snores grating from his nose. Not even bothering to remove his dressing gown or glasses, Harry dropped awkwardly onto his bed, falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He was awakened what he thought were mere minutes later, by Seamus singing the rowdy song to his favourite football team. Harry groaned and attempted to bury his head under the blankets before they were ripped fiercely from the bed by Dean, who soon joined Seamus in singing.

“Ger way,” he mumbled from the mattress. “'s too early.”

“C'mon, Harold,” Dean shouted, “Even Ron's up and dressed. You have Potions in ten minutes!” Even the thought of a rotten Snape looming over him, fangs exposed, was not enough to persuade him from leaving the thought of more sleep. For a moment, the sounds of Dean and Seamus singing were drowned out by rushing air as he started to fall back into slumber - until he was jerked rudely awake by a jug of cool water being dumped over his head.

Only then, did he get up.

“Stupid roommates,” he grumbled, pulling on his robes after roughly drying his hair, “won't even let me sleep.” Dean and Seamus followed him down the stairs, still singing just to irritate him even more. Sleep still clutched at the back of his mind and he couldn't even quell the emptiness of his stomach with food; Potions would be starting in three minutes.

As soon as he left the Portrait Hole, he lost Dean and Seamus through hidden passages and secret tapestries and even a trapdoor in the squeaky stair of the staircase. He entered the dungeons, still wet and tired, but now puffing from too much exertion at too early in the morning. He entered the Potion's room just as the bell rang, a second before Snape who took in his scruffy wet hair and crinkled clothes, and sneered unattractively at him. Ignoring the enquiring looks of most of the other students, Harry slumped into a seat beside Hermione, placing his head in his arms, closing his eyes, and pretended he was still in bed.

. . . - - - - - . . . - - - - - . . .

“So, why are you so tired?” Ginny asked him at Lunch. Harry, who had his head propped up by a hand, idly chewed on a bit of bread roll.

“I dunno,” he lied, keeping eyes on the wall across the hall, where the banners for each house flashed their colours.

“I didn't even see you go to bed,” Ron said, munching on a part of meat pie. A piece of pastry was hanging from his eyebrow, so Harry diverted his attention to that.

“Yeah, I know, but when I did, I couldn't get to sleep for ages.” The pastry wiggled with each bite Ron took of the pie, clinging precariously to the ginger hairs. Ginny was watching it as well, having caught the eye of Harry's attention. Ron was oblivious, continuing to eat the pie with gravy dribbling at the corner of his lips.

“Bad dreams?” Hermione said, glancing at the pastry, smiling, and politely diverting her attention to the book lying open on the table.

“Umm ... not really,” Harry said, snorting with laughter when the pastry fell from his friend's eyebrow onto the piece of pie now being shovelled into Ron's already crowded mouth. He leaned forward in the seat. “If you really want to know what I was doing, I smelt something weird last night and followed it.”

His friends stared at him. “You smelt something weird, so you followed it?” Ron mimicked before snickering. “Way to use your nose, mate.”

“What was it? What did it smell like?” Hermione asked, leaning forward as well, so there was hardly any room between their faces over the breakfast table. Her warm breath tickled his cheeks and he felt the colour rising up his neck.

“Well, it ah - it smelt like the forest, Hagrid's cabin and the owlery all combined. It was really familiar but I didn't know where I'd smelt it before.”

“So you were -” here she lowered her voice - “in your wolf form?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I was already walking back from the Meeting and since it was already over nine o'clock, I thought I'd walk back as Him, so I wouldn't be caught so easily.”

“Did you find where the smell was coming from?” Hermione asked curiously, her eyes sparkling at the thought of knowledge and adventure. Harry quickly cleared his throat from the sudden discomfort of a lump.

“Yeah, and that wasn't all I found!” Ron and Ginny were now leaning down with them, all listening eagerly. “I followed the smell down to the Defence corridor and had to hide because Tonks was coming out of a room behind the portrait of that old man.”

“William the Wishful.” Hermione looked around at them and sighed, “The man inside the portrait? Honestly, haven't any of you read Hogwarts: A History?”

Silence.

“So, yeah, where was I?” Harry said, outrightly ignoring Hermione's question. She silently rolled her eyes.

“Tonks had just come out of the portrait,” Ginny said.

“Oh yeah, she started coming out of it and I realised that was where the smell was coming from. So I sort of dodged around her when she was turned the other way and went into the room.”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded. “What if it was her private quarters?”

“It wasn't,” he said quickly, “it was just a spare room or something.”

“So what was making the smell?” Ginny breathed.

“Get this ... it was Moony.”

They all stared at him. Hermione's brow furrowed. “Moony? As in Remus?”

“Yeah, but he was in his werewolf form,” Harry said with a grin. “I knew I'd smelt that smell before!”

“He was a werewolf!” Hermione said. “What if he had bitten you? Or attacked you? You could've been killed or worse - been cursed with Lycanthropy!”

“He had taken his potion!” Harry defended. “He wouldn't have hurt me anyway - werewolves like the company of other animals!”

“But what if he knew it was you! He'd have recognised that white mark on your head in the shape of your scar, and we'd be in so much trouble!” Hermione was getting worked up over nothing, and even though Harry was sure Remus hadn't known it was him, she was making him nervous.

“Hermione, calm down!” he said quickly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. Neville smiled politely a couple of seats down the table and gave them a curious look. Harry smiled before quickly looking back at Hermione. “He didn't know it was me! He said I was friend not Harry! He -”

“- what do you mean, he said 'friend'? How could he talk to you if he was transformed?” Ginny asked curiously.

“I don't know, it sort of popped into my head when we were looking at each other. It was only that one word; he must've thought it or something, and because I was a wolf too, I picked up on it.”

“Oh, that's awesome!” she said with a wicked grin. “I wonder if I can talk to other foxes?” While Ginny thought about that, Hermione looked at him concernedly.

“Are you sure he didn't know it was you?” she asked quietly. “We'd get into so much trouble otherwise.”

“I'm fairly sure, Hermione,” Harry said, “and I don't think Remus would care anyway - I know Sirius wouldn't!”

Hermione's lips thinned considerably. “I know he wouldn't. He'd find it endlessly amusing and say he was so proud of you.”

Harry laughed. “That's Sirius for you!”

And even though he was so sure Remus hadn't known who he was the night before, he was oddly nervous for the rest of the day.

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It was during Charms later that day, when the class was attempting to Animate small green figurines of soldiers, when there came a knock at the door. Little Professor Flitwick hurried to the door, almost tripping over the hem of his robes in his haste. A slightly ruffled Colin Creevley was revealed, a white envelope in hand. He exchanged quick words with the professor, his beady eyes flashing over the small man's head, scanning the room until they found Harry. He grinned excitedly. The door closed on the grinning, waving Fifth Year boy, as Professor Flitwick flicked his wand and sent the envelope soaring across the room.

Harry caught it with no amount of effort and looked at the Professor curiously. “It's for you, Mr Potter,” he squeaked, stepping up upon two thick books, “from the Headmaster.”

Harry's insides twittered excitedly as he looked down at the envelope, his name written on the front with curly black writing familiar to Albus Dumbledore. “I wonder what it's about?” he murmured, and Hermione sitting to his left, nudged him.

“The only way to find out is to open it,” she said smartly. Harry smiled despite his nerves and silently opened the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of slightly yellowed parchment. In the same familiar writing, a letter was written.

Mr Potter,

Would you please be so kind as to come to my office this evening at seven o'clock under the guise of reviewing your Remedial Potions? Please tell Ms Granger and Mr Weasley if they ask, I do not mind.

Thank you my boy, I look forward to our meeting.

Yours Sincerely

Albus Dumbledore

ps. I will save you a Lemon Drop.

Harry grinned and passed the letter on to Hermione, who scanned it quickly and followed it with a frown. “Remedial Potions? Surely he does not mean to continue your 'Lessons' with Professor Snape?” She was, of course, talking of the failed Occlumency the year before.

“I dunno,” Harry said, taking the letter back from Ron who had a green Soldier balancing on his head. “I'll just have to go to find out,” he said in mimic of Hermione's previous words. She gave him a degrading smile. Harry laughed.

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Dinner was a humorous affair. Harry and Hermione had both mastered the Animating Spell from Charms and were having races down the table. “I've got a Galleon on the Pumpkin Juice!” Dean shouted, leaning over as a half-empty glass of juice slid across the wood.

“I've got two Galleons on the gravy!” Seamus joined in, throwing a coin down so a white dish of gravy had to perform a sloppy hurdle over it. It continued on, gaining on the juice which was nearing a cheering Neville and Dennis at the end. Harry stood on a bench at the opposite end, wand out in front, steering his gravy with as much precision as he could. Hermione was in the same state beside him, the tip of her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth, as she struggled to keep her juice inside the glass.

Most of the Gryffindors were cheering in their seats with students from the other houses standing behind them, throwing their bets out into a hat owned by Colin Creevely. “It's all over, Potter,” Hermione hissed. “I'll have you at the crossing!”

“Don't bet on it, Granger,” Harry retorted, wiggling his wand oddly to dodge between two plates. “No girl will ever beat me!”

The Professors and most of the student body watched as the Pumpkin Juice and Gravy boat went neck-in-neck towards a make-shift slope made from knives, which opened up over a large ceramic bowl full of the remnants of salad. Everyone watched as the gravy nudged the juice, and the juice nudged back, and they both started up the slope together.

Hermione let out a triumphant “Ah Huh!” and pulled her wand quickly to the side. The juice knocked the gravy and the dish skidded off the knives, hitting the side of the ceramic bowl and upending. All eyes watched in both amazement and horror as the cold, brown sludge crawled through the air, slowly, painfully, towards the excited face of Colin.

It hit with a sickening slap! And the room was silent for a few seconds before Hermione whooped in glee, sticking her wand hand into the air and turning to face Harry. “Sucked in! I WIN!”

Then there was laughter and shouting and Dean squealing in glee as he pulled the hat of gold, silver and bronze towards him, cackling merrily. And even Colin was grinning and giggling, scraping the gravy off and wiping it on Neville's cheek. And Harry, instead of hanging his head in the mockery of shame, scooped Hermione up from her knees and hung her half upside down so she squawked in surprise and shouted for him to let her go.

“What was that?” Harry laughed. “Did you say something?”

“Of course I said something you git!” she shouted, her fingers gripping handfuls of his robes in case she happened to fall. “Just because I WON!”

“Only because you cheated!” he said, wiggling his fingers along her back so it tickled her even more.

“Harry!” she squealed. “Don't!”

“I believe Ms Granger has had enough fun for the night, Mr Potter.” Harry froze and looked up to find Dumbledore standing by the table watching them with a smile and twinkling eyes. “I think it's time to end the activities and head up to bed for everyone; early start tomorrow.”

That was the cue for Harry to let Hermione down, which he did carefully. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she turned and hit him soundly on the chest, her face flushed and her hair frizzy. “You prat!” she said and scooped her bag up and walked away, but not before Harry caught the smile spread prettily across her face. Harry looked sheepishly at Ron, who winked and followed after her. Ginny gave him a suggestive nod, while Seamus and Dean both punched him on the arm.

Once most of the people had left the hall and the tables were cleared, Harry pretended to look casually at the Headmaster, who laughed merrily and motioned for him to follow. Up in the Headmaster's office, the excitement of the evening still shining on Harry's face as he sat in front of the desk, Dumbledore surveyed him over steepled fingers, a small smile on his face and dull glitter in his eyes.

“There was a time,” he said softly and surprisingly, “when I believed I had made another mistake in regards to the welfare of a student close to my heart.” The Headmaster looked suddenly old, his face framed by waves of grizzled white hair and the lines in his face shadowed by the candlelight from the ceiling. Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, then, thinking against it, closed it again. “Tom Riddle, as you know more than anyone else, started his childhood much like you. He was an orphan, and although I had no choice in the matter, did nothing to change this fact. You both grew up in homes without love, and it was my silly idea that because Tom grew to be evil, you would grow to be good.

“You are so similar and different it is difficult to watch sometimes,” Dumbledore said sadly and at the sudden flaring of disgust on Harry's face, he quickly continued. “But, unlike Tom, Harry, you survived your childhood with an honest, genuine heart and a soul so pure, magical creatures cannot stand to be away from you.”

“W-what do you mean, sir?” Harry asked stupidly.

“The unicorns. The centaurs. Buckbeak. They all come to you, not because you demand or wish, but because they choose to. The centaurs in the forest that day came to your aid.”

“But they came because the forest was in danger. They don't like Humans in the woods; they only appeared to get rid of us!”

“No, dear boy. That is what they want you to believe. They came because you were in need. They were driven by an unknown urge to that clearing, knowing they were needed and unable to resist the need to come to your assistance.” Dumbledore watched him with intense blue eyes as if willing him to understand something - anything.

“I d-don't understand, sir,” Harry said after a moment. “Is it because of the Prophecy?”

Dumbledore sighed, making Harry feel as though he had failed a test. “Yes and no. The Forbidden Forest has been around since the beginning of this castle. The Four Founder's planted the first trees and when they were big enough, introduced the creatures they hoped would be protected in the forest and in return, protect the castle. The forest flourished in the time of the Founders, the magical creatures thriving off the deep magic from the castle and its inhabitants. Even when the Founder's passed from this world, the magic from the castle ensured the creatures lived naturally and in a perfect environment. The Forest is thousands of years old and the Centaur Clan has been there for almost as long. They are the protectors of the Forest and all that they do is done for the Forest and the Ancient Magic of the trees and castle. They are controlled by none and never have been since the time of the Founders, whom they served faithfully.

“And now, the only ones they will even consider serving or taking orders from, are those they consider resembling the Founders or else contain some of the Ancient Magic used to build the forest.”

There was a deep, throbbing silence. Dumbledore stared at him fiercely, with the same unsettling gaze. The portraits along the walls were dead silent, all watching and waiting. Harry swallowed a heavy lump in his throat, knowing where this was leading but unwilling to admit it. It was too … bizarre.

“Do you see now, Harry?” Dumbledore said softly before quickly turning and reaching for the glass cabinet behind his desk. From it, he withdrew the Sword of Gryffindor, its golden hilt encrusted with rubies and gems glittering in the candlelight. The Headmaster held it out to him and with shaking fingers, Harry took it in his hands, feeling its weight strain the muscles in his shoulders but somehow he relished in the sense of power and control it gave him. He looked up at Dumbledore, who was smiling secretly. “This sword belonged to the great Godric Gryffindor and I once told you only a true Gryffindor could pull it from the hat. I was not entirely truthful with you that day and I apologise now for keeping yet another secret from you.”

There was another anticipating pause in which all in the room sat forward, straining and holding their breaths for what was to come. Harry looked deep into the Headmaster's eyes, his heart thumping in his throat. Dumbledore smiled. “A true Gryffindor could not pull the sword from the hat, Harry; it would have to be a Gryffindor. The Heir of Godric Gryffindor.”

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Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter and never will.

I'm dreadfully, seriously, completely sorry for the absolute abysmal time it took for this update to come. I've been writing it bit by but for the last couple of weeks, willing myself to write it. I watched the fourth movie yesterday again and it gave me inspiration and a sudden urge to write this.

So here it is. I'm sorry it took so long but at least I updated!

Thanks to those that have stuck around, I understand if you haven't, I know I hate authors who ditch their work.

Laters (hopefully soon :P)

QW