Chapter 5 - Revelations
Harry stood, staring at Neville and the other members of the D.A., until Hermione broke his trance.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice was almost at a whisper. "I think you can let go of me now," she added uncomfortably. Harry, forgetting he still had his arms wrapped around her, stepped back suddenly.
"Sorry," he said embarrassedly.
"Don't apologize, Harry. Thankfully your reflexes are faster than mine," she said gratefully. He returned a weak smile and turned to greet his friends.
They spent the rest of the ride to Hogwarts eating, laughing, playing exploding snap and exchanging stories of their summer vacation. Even with the thought of Hermione and Krum lingering in his mind, he had to admit he finally felt like things were "back to normal." His anger ebbed away and he enjoyed the time with his friends he had missed so much.
The sun had set by the time the Hogwarts Express steamed into Hogsmeade station. The group found their way to the carriages and climbed aboard. The sight of the thestrals sent a dull ache through Harry's chest. He watched them from his carriage seat, cantering along as they traversed the grounds to the castle. He never ceased to think of his godfather as the carriage bumped along the trail. Shortly before arriving, he was drawn from his thoughts by a strange sensation. Hermione had grasped his hand in hers. Startled, he raised his eyes to Hermione's.
They didn't need to say anything to each other.
She knew where he had gone. The look on her face warmed him even in the cool night air. She flashed a compassionate smile, squeezed his hand, and let it go as the carriage pulled to a stop.
***
"I hate this! Why does that blasted hat have to take so long?" Ron moaned as the trio sat at the Gryffindor house table waiting for the remaining first years to be sorted.
"Ron, does your entire existence revolve around food?" Hermione quipped. "I promise there are third world nations that don't take in as much sustenance as you do," she added dryly.
"Yeah, well they would if there were hundreds of house elves slaving for them the way they do for us," Ron said throwing Harry a triumphant smile. Ron always seemed to take special pleasure in pushing Hermione's buttons.
"Oh! Ron you are just ….just…awful!" She exclaimed.
Harry couldn't resist sniggering over Ron's expression. He never knew Ron had so many teeth. Ron didn't need to respond to Hermione's exasperation verbally, seemingly on cue, the welcoming feast appeared on the table. He merely sunk his fork into a boiled potato and stuffed it into his mouth; the toothy grin never fading from his face.
"Ugh!" Hermione guffawed as she spooned beef stew onto her plate.
She's cute when she's angry.
***
After alleviating the gnawing in his stomach, Harry snapped his eyes to the head table. He hadn't given a single thought to who would be replacing Delores Umbridge as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Apparently, Hagrid had been waiting for the opportunity to catch his eye. He waved so ostentatiously he knocked Professor McGonagall's pumpkin juice clear into an unsuspecting group of Hufflepuff first years. Harry raised his hand with a smirk and continued scanning his eyes down the table. Harry recognized all the teachers, Flitwick, Sprout, Pomphrey…Snape. Not seeing a new teacher among them Harry suddenly had a terrifying thought.
Snape finally got the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.
"What!" Ron exclaimed as he sprayed mince meat pie across the table.
Apparently, Harry hadn't "thought" that at all.
"Snape? How do you know that?" Ron said nearly breaking his neck to gaze at the head table.
"Harry, don't be ridiculous," Hermione said calmly. "There's an empty chair at the end of the table. Dumbledore would not give Professor Snape that job now. Not after turning him down for so many years."
Dumbledore.
Harry suddenly remembered he had to meet with the headmaster concerning his "remedial potions" class. It's funny how someone can go from "starving" to "total loss of appetite" in a matter of minutes.
He glanced up at Dumbledore who was engaged in vibrant conversation with Professor Sprout. As Harry hesitated, looking at him, Dumbledore seemed to pause and turn his eyes so Harry was in the periphery of his vision. Dumbledore smiled and returned to his conversation.
"Oh! I'm stuffed. I don't think I could eat another bite," Ron yawned.
"Me too," Hermione agreed. She put her fork down and shoved a half eaten plate of Yorkshire pudding toward the center of the table.
"Are you going to finish that?" Ron inquired.
"Oh! For the love of Merlin, Ron!" she scoffed.
"It's not for me," Ron said rather unconvincingly. "It's for...for Harry! Look he's barely touched a thing."
"I would say that depends on your point of view. In comparison to your four servings, I suppose my second helping does seem a bit scant," Harry replied.
This was always the time of the evening Harry began to muse over the ingredients of their supper. It seemed the whole Great Hall would fall into a deafening drowsiness simultaneously. He reminded himself to ask Dobby if the house elves were spiking the pumpkin juice with a mild sleeping draught.
Harry was drifting enough to barely hear the obligatory start of term notices. Honestly, it was nothing he couldn't catch up on by checking the number of new scathing threats posted to Filch's door. He managed to draw his eyes to Dumbledore's as the Headmaster dismissed the students to their houses.
Suddenly, he was wide awake.
As Harry already knew what was coming, he decided to get it over and done with quickly. He bid Ron and Hermione farewell and begrudgingly stayed behind after the students filed out of the Great Hall.
"Harry, I trust you had an enjoyable summer," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Please go to my office. I'll be there momentarily." Harry nodded and walked out of the room. When he reached the enormous stone phoenix marking the entrance to Dumbledore's office he realized he didn't know the password.
"Lemon Drop." Nothing.
"Fizzing Whizbee," Nope.
Harry furrowed his brow in concentration. He thought back to Dumbledore's decree that the Ministry could remove him as Headmaster so long as they didn't take him off the…"Chocolate Frog" ..cards.
The giant stone statuary turned slowly exposing a spiral staircase behind it. Harry climbed the stairs and entered Dumbledore's office. This office always seemed to make him want to whisper. The clocks quietly tapped out an entrancing rhythm, portraits of former headmasters snored as they slept, and the coo of a magnificent bird warmed Harry's heart.
"Hello Fawkes." Harry smiled broadly walking over to his perch. Fawkes seemed to smile back and cocked his head to the side. Harry stroked his brilliant plumage, looking at him fondly, until he realized Dumbledore had arrived.
"If I didn't know better, I would say Fawkes has missed your company, Harry," Dumbledore said warmly. Although Fawkes had a special place in Harry's heart, he didn't mind going for long periods without seeing him. Fawkes only seemed to appear when Harry was in trouble. Wishing to dispense with the torture post-haste, Harry sat down in the chair across from Dumbledore's desk.
"I suppose you know why you are here," Dumbledore began. "I spoke at length with Professor Snape. He will be expecting you in his potions class and you need to continue your study of Occlumency."
"But why does he have to teach me? Can't you do it?" Harry pleaded. "I honestly don't see why I need to do it at all. I haven't had any of the dreams I have had before. Nothing's been going on," Harry added matter-of-factly.
"Harry, prior to last term, Voldemort didn't know you were seeing through him. Now that he knows he wouldn't be so foolish as to use a means you would recognize. The power of a true Legilimens lies in being able to read someone's emotions so well as to essentially read their thoughts - and control their actions - without the victim being any the wiser," Dumbledore explained. "That is the reason I cannot teach you. The threat still remains. Harry, I cannot place enough stress on the importance of your study of Occlumency." Harry sat quietly, feeling utterly defeated, but not having the energy, or the willpower, to argue.
"We will continue the lessons in the same manner as last year. I will have frequent contact with Professor Snape to check on your progress," Dumbledore added, noticing Harry had still not raised his eyes to his.
"Harry, I sense something else is troubling you."
For being the most powerful wizard in the world it didn't take a lot of insight to see that. Nor did it take a great deal of intuition to see that Harry was lying.
"No sir. The welcoming feast always seems to make me crave my four-poster bed. That's all," Harry said flatly.
He wasn't entirely untruthful. He was looking forward to his warm bed. He hoped the house elves had continued their habit of placing warming pans between the sheets. But the thought of the house elves brought his mind back to Hermione…and Krum.
"Well, if you have nothing else to share, I won't keep you from your rest Harry," Dumbledore said looking past him. "Besides, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has just arrived and I need some time to catch her up before she is to begin her lessons." Dumbledore smiled. "If it's all right with you, I think she can handle instructing the D.A. this year so you can be left to your own studies."
Rife with curiosity Harry spun in his chair to see who was going to try their hand with that embattled position this year.
"Hi'ya Harry!" came a familiar voice.
"Tonks!" Harry exclaimed.
***
"No way!" Ron exclaimed stuffing a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
By the time Harry had returned from Dumbledore's office, the effects of the welcoming feast had set in and Ron was unconscious and sprawled across his four-poster bed. Harry, having no energy left to tell the story, had flopped onto his bed deciding to hold his news until morning.
"Tonks?" Hermione said with a bit of concern.
"What?" Ron retorted.
"Well…I don't know…that job. It's just cursed or something. I just don't want to see anything bad happen to her." Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
She had a point. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers never seemed to last more than one year. One had died and one was committed to St. Mungo's. Lupin had resigned when word got out that he was a werewolf, Mad-Eye Moody spent the better part of eight months locked in a trunk, and Umbridge (thankfully) had been driven out of Hogwarts after the Ministry finally awoke from the delusion Voldemort was still dead.
"Well," Harry said trying to sound optimistic. "Maybe she'll break the curse. Somebody has to. Besides, she's supposed to be a fantastic Auror. With any luck she'll actually teach us something we need to know."
"About that Harry," Ron asked suspiciously. "Did Dumbledore mention how in the name of Merlin he got Snape to agree to teach us Potions? I thought any chance of my becoming an Auror disapparated with my O.W.L. results."
"Not really, but he is the Headmaster. I guess he just told him. I can't imagine Snape being very pleased with it though. I doubt he wants to see us any more than we want to see him," Harry answered dejectedly. The thought of impending Occlumency lessons invaded his conscious.
"Why do I have a feeling we'll think his disposition last year was charming compared to what it will be now?" Ron sighed.
The trio exchanged a defeated glance and returned to their breakfast.
Harry's attention was drawn to the end of the next table as Peeves began pelting unsuspecting first year students with pancakes.
"Firsty-first years!" he shouted cackling loudly. "Little Sarah syrup-head! Ravenclaws should be smart enough to duck!" he chirped spinning wildly around and zipping toward the ceiling. He darted out of the open window as a formidable flock of owls descended from the rafters.
"Mail's here," Harry said flatly. Knowing he would have no mail to open, he returned to his scrambled eggs. Ron surveyed the owls as well. Not seeing Errol, he continued on with the conversation. Hermione was still looking up.
"So, Harry. Who do you think will fill the spots on the team this…" a letter flopped onto Hermione's plate knocking a muffin onto the table. She quickly scuttled it out of sight and seemed to act as though it never happened.
"Hermione," Ron probed. "It's not like we didn't see it. Who's it from?"
"Er, no one," she answered quickly putting the muffin back on her plate.
"It's from Vicky!" Ron said, cluing in.
"Ron! I told you not to call him Vicky! And besides, you have a lot of nerve being so obnoxious about it all. Weren't you the one clamoring for his autograph?" Hermione said hotly.
"Do you two mind?" Harry interrupted. He was more annoyed by Hermione's letter than the fact Ron and she were gearing up for another row. Knowing Harry could become quite temperamental himself, Ron thought better of biting back at Hermione's last comment. He let out a short hard breath and said, "Well, you might as well read it, it's not like weren't not going to ask you about it anyway."
The letter was obviously burning a hole in Hermione's cloak and she pulled it out a bit too quickly to convince Harry and Ron she wasn't interested in reading it. She unrolled the parchment and Harry watched her eyes scan the letter.
"Oh my heavens," she gasped.
"What?" Harry and Ron said simultaneously. Inwardly, Harry was hoping Krum had impaled himself on his own Firebolt.
"He's moving to London." Hermione's expression seemed to fall somewhere between shock and surprise. "He's gotten a job working for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Games and Sports." She continued to paraphrase the letter. Looking up at their confused expressions she stammered. "Well, it makes sense. He is a World Cup Quidditch player. I'm sure Ludo Bagman is just beside himself to get him to come to England."
"Hermione? You don't think for one second Krum is coming to England for Ludo Bagman do you?" Ron said matter-of-factly.
"Well, why else would he…" she began.
"Oh, come off it Hermione! For being so incredibly clever, you are about as thick as Goyle when it comes to things like this." Ron rolled his eyes and looked to Harry for support.
"Things like what?" Hermione demanded.
"He's in love with you," Harry said quietly without looking up from his breakfast.
"Thank you, mate! Exactly my point," Ron said triumphantly as he poured himself another glass of pumpkin juice.
"In love with me? Harry you can't be serious! That is just the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. He can't be moving half way around the world just for me!" Hermione retorted with her eyes seeming to burn through the top of his head.
Harry looked into her eyes and nearly surprising himself replied, "That's what I would do." Realizing her expression had gone from consternation to befuddlement he added, "If I was in love with you, that is."
***
The first week of classes seemed to get off to a good start. Much to their surprise Potions was not as bad as they imagined. Harry and Ron expected Snape to be in rare form but curiously he seemed to ignore them both. However, he couldn't ignore Harry for long.
It was Monday, and that meant "remedial potions."
Shortly after eating, what felt like his last meal, Harry bid farewell to his two best friends and set off for the dungeon. It seemed colder, danker, and darker than it had been last year. Harry reasoned that the climate reflected his mood quite well.
Snape's office door was cracked open as the appointed time arrived. Harry knocked quietly and pushed the door open with an ominous creak. Dumbledore's pensieve was sitting on the desk, already awash with silver fog. Harry sat looking at the dance of light for a moment. He remembered what he saw the last time he choose to peek at Snape's most guarded memories. He saw Sirius, Lupin, Pettigrew, and his father humiliating Snape before a group of onlookers. He remembered his mother trying to rescue his ungrateful Potions master, only to be called a mudblood in front of everyone. Harry nearly wished he could see those memories again, just to see Sirius and his parents.
The door slammed shut and Harry's heart leapt through his chest.
"Sit down, Potter," Professor Snape said coldly.
"I imagine you are as pleased to be here as I am to have you. This is certainly not how I'm choosing to spend my time, teaching Occlumency to someone who is far too arrogant to put forth one iota of effort to learn it." Harry stared directly into Snape's eyes, temper rising.
"This will likely prove to be a gargantuan waste of time, just as it was last year," Snape added, undoubtedly seeing Harry's face reddening.
Harry carried a raw, gnawing pang of guilt concerning Sirius death. Regardless of what Dumbledore said in the aftermath, Harry felt, and Snape obviously recognized it, that if he had given Occlumency its due attention, things may've been different. Sirius might still be alive. But at the same time, things were very different last year. While his scar still tingled regularly (something he honestly didn't notice anymore as it was such a constancy since Voldemort's return) he hadn't experienced anything remotely close to what he went through the previous term. Feeling that was important he opened his mouth to speak.
"But, Professor…" He began.
"Silence! I don't have any desire to hear your childish whining. I have been ordered to proceed and so have you. So, get up and let's begin. The sooner we start the sooner you can get out of my office," Snape barked, quickly ending the conversation.
Harry stood up and took out his wand but was in no frame of mind to be learning anything from Snape. He had absolutely no idea how this man could teach him anything.
He hated him, he hated Krum, and right now he hated Dumbledore as well.
Snape didn't give Harry any warning.
"Legilimens!"
Harry stammered backwards as disjointed memories flashed across his mind. He was back on Privet Drive being held up as a punching bag for Dudley…a grade school girl was pointing at his oversized clothes and giggling…Cho was storming out of Madam Puddifoot's Café…
"Potter!" Snape bellowed. "You are not concentrating! You've not made the slightest effort to block my attempts!" he finished.
"You didn't exactly give me time to prepare!" Harry shouted back.
"Watch your tone Potter!"
He had some nerve, Harry thought, when his tone was filled with far more indignation than Harry's had been.
"You must rid yourself of emotion and repel my intrusions with your mind! I'm not wasting my time if you won't take this seriously!" he snapped.
"Like last year?" Harry hissed. "You didn't waste your time helping me last year, why should this be any different!" he shouted, staring directly into Snape's eyes. Harry did not want to be there and half hoped that his outburst would induce Snape to throw him out of his office. Unfortunately, that was not the result Harry received. Snape merely looked at him, obviously holding back, and with great effort said, "prepare yourself Potter," in a seemingly controlled rage.
He was playing with a spider in the cupboard under the stairs…He was tied to a headstone, watching Voldemort rise from the cauldron…He was walking with Hermione on the wooded trail…He was playing quidditch in Ron's backyard… He was edging closer to her in the forest, he was holding her in his arms, he could almost smell the sweet scent of her hair, he could nearly hear their breath mingle together, then it hit him…not Hedwig this time…Snape!
He could see this too.
"Ouch!" Snape gasped. He wand hand was bleeding slightly and he snapped his gaze from his hand to Harry's eyes. Harry noticed he was standing fixed to the spot where they began and felt quite impressed with himself that he had repelled Snape's advances without falling into the desk as he had done last year. He felt even more satisfaction at the fact Snape was bleeding. But, his moderately improved mood didn't last long.
"Interesting Potter," Snape said, wiping the blood from his hand and standing upright. He flashed a vicious smile.
"You and Granger? Judging from your demeanor in class, you haven't told her that you are in love with her," Snape said silkily. "How humiliating that would be if it ever slipped out. Maybe these lessons will be more interesting than I thought."