Chapter 40 - Harry's Breakthrough
(A/N - Okay, hang on to your hats - here comes the fifth year…things will be interesting, to say the least.)
After Harry and Hermione had said their good-byes at King's Cross, they had each gone to their respective homes. Soon, however, they realized they could sense each other's presence occasionally at first, but more frequently as time went on, through their reawakening soul-bond. It seemed to be strongest when they were resting in their own beds each night. Because of this, Petunia and Vernon both noticed that Harry seemed almost excited when they told him it was time to go to bed, no matter how early they sent him upstairs after he finished his chores. "That proves the boy's not right in his head!" Vernon huffed one evening to his wife. "Normal boys of that age should be more like Dudley…out and about, exploring the world, learning how to be a real man, doing all he can to avoid bedtime…but that one, he goes up to his room without a peep, and we never hear from him 'til he gets up to fix breakfast."
Petunia nodded in agreement, "Yes, and this summer I've never once had to punish him for getting up late. He's always so…well rested…and he seems so happy most of the time. He must be sleeping quite well - not like my Dudders. He's always so tired in the morning after staying up playing with his little friends every night. They're such sweet boys!"
Harry, of course, never felt tired as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, knowing that soon he would be able to hear Hermione's voice in his mind as clearly as if she were in the same bed with him, filling him in on what she had done that day and listening to him as he did the same until it was time to say good-night. If the Dursley's had known all this, they would have done all that they could to keep him awake. The only thing that bothered him slightly is that Hermione seemed to be unwilling to follow up on her offer to have Harry come stay at her house before the start of the new term. All she would say about it is that there was a change in plans in the works, but he would most likely be seeing her soon.
But, as it was, Harry had his most pleasant summer ever at Privet Drive. This good mood even made it easier for him to be friendly with his neighbor, Mrs. Figg, who seemed to never be too far away each time he was outside. She was usually muttering to herself when he saw her walking by, but whenever she noticed him in the yard she'd usually ask him around for tea. Each time he declined politely as he still had unpleasant memories of long hours spent looking at picture albums of her cats.
Memories…both pleasant and unpleasant - were causing Harry the most problems right now. Hermione's kiss on his cheek, which somehow had allowed Harry to enter her mind and remove the effects of Pomfrey's potion, had started a similar process in Harry's mind.
One night in early August, as he got ready for bed, he thought back on when he began to notice something strange was happening. It was, he remembered, when he pushed his luggage to the car park at King's Cross. He instinctively found himself heading towards a very expensive car, and he was quite surprised when Vernon cursed at him for being blind as the Dursely's stood next to the same car that Harry had ridden in many times before. Then, upon arrival at Privet Drive, as he unloaded Hedwig's cage and his trunk, he had a feeling of great foreboding come over him as he entered the front door. He felt as if he were about to be attacked as soon as he entered the house. However, he entered without incident and took his effects up to the second bedroom.
Later that first day, though, he had walked past his old cupboard on his way into the kitchen to prepare the Dursley's evening meal. Suddenly, his heart had started to race and he couldn't catch his breath. <What is wrong with me? I felt as if…someone were forcing me into that place…and I can't move at all, and… no, no, not in there again…I can't go back in there….NO!... NO! HERMIONE!>
The next thing he knew he was sputtering from the warm water that Dudley had thrown in his face…teapot and all. "MUM! HARRY'S ACTING STRANGE" he yelled, while sticking out his tongue at his cousin.
Petunia had come down the stairs in a huff, and was even more upset when she saw the large puddle of water mixed with blood (the pot had hit him squarely in his nose, which was now bleeding freely) and the mark the pot had made as it hit the wall. "What's all this?" she cried. "Dudley, please explain to me who is responsible for this mess…as if I didn't know already."
"Well, Mum, I was in the kitchen heating up some water for a spot of tea and I saw Harry standing by his old bedroom. It looked like he was frozen or something. Then, it looked like he was struggling…like he was getting out of some ropes. Then I though I heard him saying 'no, no…I can't…', and then it sounded like he said some girl's name… Hermoninny or some such. I though he was having a fit, so I grabbed the teapot to throw some water on him. Sorry, Harry, I guess I must have got carried away and the pot accidentally slipped when I threw it." Harry, of course, knew that it was no accident.
Petunia turned to her nephew and said, "Harry, stop bleeding on my clean floor and clean this all up before you start cooking our dinner! Tomorrow, you'll have to patch this wall and repaint the whole area. If it doesn't match perfectly, we'll have you do the whole ground floor, so you'd better be careful."
For the next few weeks, much of which was spent with a brush or a roller in his hand, Harry had been faced with other memories, too…flashes from what appeared to be from someone else's life…or was it? These flashes lasted longer and came more and more frequently, mixed in with more recent, horrific nightmares. Nightmares that caused him to wake up moaning most nights… memories of Cedric dying…of Wormtail cutting off his own hand…and of Voldemort, rising from a cauldron in a graveyard…and then, there were the angry memories. Dumbledore, trying to explain just why it was that he, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Miss Puckle had conspired together to temporarily block his memories…and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny's, too. And, not just any memories - no, they blocked the very things that would have given him joy…and hope for the future. No, it was not good to dwell on those memories, either - best to think about other things, here in his bedroom when he would soon be hearing…
"POTTER…POTTER! LISTEN TO ME, BOY!" As Harry opened his eyes slowly, he saw Vernon's purple face looming large in front of him as he as he opened his eyes. "WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!" He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him roughly out of bed. WHAT ARE YOU DREAMING ABOUT?" Vernon roared, turning a deeper purple as he built up steam with his diatribe. "Better not be that…that…girl I saw you with at the station! I saw the look on your face just now - you were thinking of her, weren't you? Well, don't get thinking along those lines. Just what we need, you getting with one of those witches at your school and making even more of your kind - just like Petunia's sister and that layabout father of yours. Disgusting! Get your mind out of the gutter! I don't want you having funny dreams about ANY of your unnatural friends or that school of yours."
Harry's sense of déjà vu came back very strongly as he listened to Vernon's rant - he KNEW he had heard this before…but when? <And I'm getting that feeling again…that I'm about to be attacked - but that makes no sense!>
Vernon, who realized that Harry was no longer paying attention to him, grabbed him around the throat.
"Get - off - me!" Harry gasped; for a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncle's sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wand which he had instinctively grabbed from the nightstand. Then, suddenly, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received a very nasty electric shock - some invisible force seemed to have surged through his nephew, making him impossible to hold.
Vernon looked at him, slightly bewildered, but soon gathered up his nerve and said to Harry, "You, get dressed…you're going out tonight…we think you're enjoying yourself entirely too much in your bedroom, thinking about whatever unnaturalness you were thinking about, so tonight, I don't want to see you anywhere around here until whenever Dudley comes home, but not a minute later or I'll lock you in the shed. You understand, boy?"
That is why Harry found himself aimlessly wandering the streets around Privet Drive, not sure what to do this time of night, realizing that he would rather be listening to Hermione tell him about her day while he lay in bed. As he turned a corner into Magnolia Crescent, he passed the narrow alleyway where he had first clapped eyes on his godfather, Sirius. <Wonder where he is now? He keeps on sending me letters, but they don't seem to say much…>
He crossed Magnolia Crescent, turned into Magnolia Road, and headed toward the darkening play park. He vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank onto the only one that Dudley and his friends had not managed to break, coiled one arm around the chain, and stared moodily at the ground. But then, as he sat there quietly thinking, his heart leaped in his chest as he heard a familiar voice in his head. <Harry… Harry…what's wrong? I've been trying to reach you for a while now, ever since I felt…well, that you were in danger somehow - I thought that someone was attacking you. Then, I felt an energy surge come from you, then there was nothing. Are you okay? I've been so worried…I wanted to phone you, but then I realized that you've never given me your phone number…and with what's been happening recently, I never thought I'd need it!>
Harry responded quickly. <Oh, don't worry, Hermione. Vernon was just encouraging me to get out a bit more at night. Thinks Dudley should be my role-model, I suppose - wanted me to stay out until whale-boy comes home tonight. I'm fine…honestly! Now, how are you doing? Everything okay at your home? I'm sure looking forward to visiting you and meeting your parents. Have you got an answer from…HIM yet?>
<Well, as I told you already, plans have changed. First, yes, I have been in touch with Headmaster Dumbledore. He still has a name, you know. Even if I am still not too pleased with what he did to us, I am at least able to maintain a civil relationship with him. And that has resulted in this change in plans…I haven't been at home for some time now, actually…but I honestly can't tell you any more just yet, so please don't ask. Trust me, Harry…I'll be seeing you as soon as I can…and then, well, I have something planned for you. I hope you'll like it!>
Harry smiled. <That depends…will this something you are planning be any way similar to what we did at the end of last summer…at the Burrow? You DO remember that night now, don't you?>
Harry swore he could almost feel her embarrassment through the bond as she responded, trying to sound like she was having trouble recalling certain events. <Hmmm. Well, yes, Harry, now that you mention it, I do seem to remember…something about that night. Let's see…Ginny snoring…Ron snoring…Fred and George snoring in unison, Percy snoring…Molly and Arthur snoring…is that what you're referring to?>
<Oh…very funny, 'Mione. You're a regular comedian. I'm sure if you were here…or I was there, wherever there is, I would be able to refresh your memory, wouldn't I? Or maybe, I can do it from here.> Once again, he could tell she was blushing even more as he reached into her mind and replayed a certain scene of him descending the stairs…and, Hermione saying -"Took you long enough, Potter…"
The pleasant scene was interrupted by the sound of voices making their way across the park. <Sorry, Hermione, got to go. Someone's coming this way. Stay up for a while…when I finally get to go to bed, I'll say good night then.>
<Okay, Harry...I'll wait for you...>
As the group got closer, Harry knew who these people were. The figure in front was unmistakably his cousin, Dudley, wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang. Harry, who had never gotten his cousin back for the teapot in the face incident and the resulting hours Harry had spent painting and repainting the entire ground floor until it was perfectly matched, was hoping that tonight would be the night.
Look round, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them. Come on…look round…I'm sitting here all alone…Come and have a go…
*****
"And now, Poppy, do you have anything new to report on the status of your patient?" Albus looked hopefully at his head nurse at the conclusion of the first Hogwarts staff meeting of the month that same evening. But, any hopes of a change were dashed immediately as Madame Pomfrey shook her head sadly.
"No, Albus…ever since we found her passed out in her room on the afternoon the students returned to King's Cross, she hasn't so much as moved. My last check of her aura shows she's still nearly completely drained of her magical energy. If only I had been more persuasive when I told her not to attend that farewell feast…"
Professor Snape grimaced. "Merlin, not this again…Madame Pomfrey, please do not launch into another round of self-recrimination and guilt. We've been through this…over…and over…and over again, as the minutes will attest. I don't see what all the fuss is about Miss Puckle, anyway. The only thing that matters to me is if she will be able to carry out her duties as an assistant professor when school resumes. If not, I am of the opinion she should be sacked, transported to St. Mungo's for long-term treatment, and replaced with another likely candidate. That is what you did to Gilderoy, if I recall correctly. Of course, this is assuming that there is a need for the position to continue in the first place." He glanced smugly at Filius as he said, acidly "I, for one, do not understand why Hogwarts needs an assistant professor in any subject. If the professor of a subject is unable to handle the course load, maybe we should find someone who is."
Before Professor Flitwick could come up with an appropriate response, Dumbledore raised his hands, signaling for quiet. "Severus, we've been over THAT before, too…and, as I have reminded you each time, those comments are completely uncalled for. Miss Puckle is one of our own, and we will take care of her. Poppy, please let me know immediately of any change in her status. I am very sure I know what will cure Miss Puckle's current condition; unfortunately there are reasons why I cannot act on this knowledge at this time. But now, it is time to adjourn this meeting."
……
At nearly the same time, another meeting was also breaking up. "Thank you, Undersecretary, for your …interesting…suggestion as to our course of action in this matter. The Ministry will take this recommendation under advisement. But now, it is time to adjourn this meeting." Cornelius Fudge rose from his chair, effectively ending the discussion as the other members of the council followed suit quickly.
As she left the meeting chambers that night, smiling her toad-like smile, Dolores Umbridge was seething inside. <Fools! Weak-minded fools! The whole Ministry is acting like sheep…bleating for that Potter whelp to be silenced, but refusing to do something about it…Well, I'll have to take matters into my own capable hands right this minute…and then we'll see what Fudge thinks of me then. Not that that matters…if I'm successful tonight, I'm sure that there will be certain…well-connected wizards who will be quite pleased with me…and less so with Cornelius for his failure to take action. We shall see what that does to our respective fortunes in the Ministry…yes…we shall see…>
******
Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley's heart. Harry could feel what seemed like two lifetimes worth of hatred towards Dudley pounding in his veins - what wouldn't he give to strike now, to jinx Dudley so thoroughly he'd have to crawl home like an insect, struck dumb, sprouting feelers -
"Don't ever talk about Cedric again…he's a friend of mine who was killed recently." Harry snarled. "D'you understand me?"
"Point that thing somewhere else!"
"I said, do you understand me?"
"Point it somewhere else!"
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM -"
Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.
Something had happened to the night…
****
A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.
Stumbling backward, Harry raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the wand and the dementor slowed, but, as had happened in the maze just a few weeks earlier, Harry was having some trouble thinking of a sufficiently happy memory. This time, however, it was worse - instead of a boggart pretending to be a dementor, this was the real thing…and Harry again realized that there was something…that he couldn't quite remember, as if he had done this all before.
Harry retreated farther as the dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain - concentrate -
A pair of gray, slimy scabbed hands slid from inside the dementor's robes, reaching for him. A rushing noise filled Harry's ears.
"Expecto Patronum!"
His voice sounded dim and distant…Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand - he couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't work the spell -
But then, a familiar, calm voice entered his head. <Harry…I'm here…what's wrong? You're in trouble, I know… What can I do to help? Wait a minute…what's wrong with your mind? It's a memory block of some kind. Since you were so kind to remove the one I had, let me return the favor. OH! Now I see the dementor! Well, don't you remember what happened the last time you showed me your Patronus? Think of me…with my arms around you…on the back of a silver stag!>
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
An enormous silver stag erupted once again from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown across the alleyway, weightless as darkness, and as the stag struck again, the dementor seemed to evaporate as the sharp prongs struck home.
"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!"
He had run barely a dozen steps when he reached them: Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms clamped over his face; a second dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head toward Dudley's face as though about to kiss him…
"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he and Hermione had conjured together came galloping past him. The dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch away from Dudley's when the shining silver antlers caught it; this time, however, the dementor immediately evaporated at the first contact. As the moon, stars, and streetlamps burst back into life the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway, tossing his head proudly, then trotted back to Dudley's side. He kneeled down, allowing Dudley to grab his fur. As the stag arose, Dudley found himself lifted bodily from the ground until he was standing on his feet. The glow from the stag seemed to revive him immediately, and he looked almost cheerful for a moment as Harry walked over to where he stood next to Harry's Patronus.
He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging! Before he could say anything to his cousin, he heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.
Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbor, came panting into sight. Her grizzled gray hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but -
"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around. Nice Patronus, by the way, Harry…Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"
"What?" said Harry blankly.
"He left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbles on the case, and very lucky you can create a Patronus that powerful. I've never even heard of one that would last this long., but yours seems to be solid enough that I dare say you and your idiot cousin could ride it home!"
At this, Harry immediately realized that he would never allow Dudley to sit on his Patronus - that spot was reserved for someone else - someone who had just saved both their lives by unblocking…
As soon as he focused on that thought, three things happened simultaneously. Harry realized that he was starting to remember everything that had happened to him. Hermione, who had been sitting up in her bed concentrating on helping Harry, fell back on her pillow, unconscious; while miles away, in her private quarters at Hogwarts, Miss Harmony June Puckle gasped suddenly and her eyes snapped open. <So…Harry's memories are returning…this ought to be interesting!>
*****
As he entered the strange house in the company of the advance guard who had been sent to collect him from Privet Drive, he saw Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerging from a door at the far end of the hall. "Oh, Harry, we're so glad you came. I'm afraid Hermione needs you…badly." Mrs. Weasley whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "Ever since you were attacked by the dementors four days ago, we haven't been able to rouse her. She seems to be sleeping peacefully, though. We've even tried using an Ennervate on her, to no avail… but Albus says he thinks you might be able to do something." She winked at him knowingly.
Ever since the attack that night, Harry had been nearly frantic with worry over Hermione. For, while he could remember just why he had been having memory flashes of a previous life for all these years, he could no longer hear Hermione's voice in his head. He was so desperate that he even gave Hedwig an urgent message to deliver to Headmaster Dumbledore, as he realized that Hermione's present safety was more important at the moment than the anger he still felt. Strangely, though, he realized he could sense the presence of someone else, though; someone familiar…and pleasant…but he couldn't figure out who it could be. Harry couldn't concern himself with that mystery at present - he had more pressing concerns.
"Where is she? Can you take me to her?" Harry said, worry in his voice.
Mrs. Weasley pressed her finger to her lips. "Harry, please keep your voice down in the hall." He nodded as he instinctively remembered the reason for the warning. She said, whispering, "I've got to hurry to a meeting. Ron will show you where you are sleeping, and then he'll take you to her room. Don't worry; your room is next to hers. You'll be able to attend to her soon enough."
As they tiptoed past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which Harry knew now that a painting of Sirius' mother was hidden, and after skirting a large, familiar umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll's leg, they parted company at the base of the stairs, where Ron was waiting. Molly went back into the room where a meeting of this Order he had just found out about was being held, while Ron led him up a dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look reminded Harry that the heads belonged to house-elves. All of them had the same rather snout-like nose. He KNEW this place…it belonged to Sirius's mum…and that meant he would be seeing Sirius again…and he remembered what was supposed to happen. <Not this time, Sirius…I've learned my lesson.>
Ron whispered as they continued to climb the stairs. "Shh, Harry…you'll find out all of that soon enough." Soon, Ron led him down a dank hallway. "Harry…your room is here…and this is where Hermione is…and before you ask, yes, the potion has worn off for both Ginny and me, so we both remember what you two told us that night. Harry, before you go in, I have something to say to you. Don't worry, I'll be quick. You know, I've been a bit jealous of you two, especially after I saw her with you at the Yule Ball, but…I guess I'm over it, now. When we first got here, as the potion had worn off, the three of us had a little chat. Hermione told us some of what had happened, and filled us in on some details about a certain…picnic you two had at the end of third year, not to mention what you two were doing in MY kitchen and MY yard that night last year…" he winked cheekily at Harry, who smiled back.
"Anyway, I guess Hermione has made it clear just who she wants to take care of her…she won't let me in her room, even though she's unconscious. She'll only let Ginny or Mum in to check on her, and Pig's in there, too. Ginny says he's her watch-owl…whatever that means. If I go anywhere near her door…well, just stand back, Harry, and watch."
Ron reached for the doorknob on Hermione's bedroom door. As he turned the serpent-shaped handle and started to push the door open, there was a loud bang and Ron was thrown across the narrow hallway as the door slammed shut. He winced as he stood up, and said with a grimace. "Please, Harry, go wake her up. Even when she's asleep, she's scary… brilliant, but scary! She must know you're here - that was actually one of the nicer things she's done to me. She's been horrid to me since she passed out! Why, just yesterday Mum told me to take some fresh bed linens in to her room. As soon as I opened the door, I found myself in the kitchen, with my trousers and underpants missing - but then I realized my underpants were pulled down over my ears. I was barely able to set things right before Tonks came in! You'd better get in there - Dumbledore says she's been waiting for you, mate."
Harry reached for the doorknob with some trepidation, as he thought rapidly <'Mione, it's me, Harry. Let me in… please?>. As he pushed the door open cautiously, he found himself in a darkened room as the door closed gently behind him. Then, Harry heard the door lock click quite audibly as Pig hooted cheerfully in greeting from his perch in the corner. The light in the room slowly increased as Harry walked over to the bed where Hermione lay peacefully, her bushy brown hair spilling over the pillow and framing her slightly paler than normal face. She was still dressed in the periwinkle blue pajamas that she had been wearing when she had collapsed. As he sat down, he took her hand gently in his and was relieved to feel her warmth. Harry looked down at her and thought < I really do like that color of blue on her… Beautiful as an angel…that's what she is>. He was quite relieved as she responded through the bond - <Harry, did you just call me…beautiful?>
Harry then saw her eyes flicker slightly as the color returned to her cheeks. Pig had now taken flight and began to zoom excitedly round and round their heads. As Hermione's eyes opened fully she said sleepily, "Harry…you're here! You're finally here! Took you long enough, Potter…"
*****
After his private and emotional reunion with Hermione, followed soon after by one of a different nature with Sirius; Harry was as happy as he could ever remember being. He was once again reconnected with the two people who meant the most to him; his now restored girlfriend and his once-again living godfather. It was especially meaningful because he could now remember what his stupidity had done to each of them individually in the previous timeline, and he vowed that he would not let that happen to them again. Ethical discussions about the risks of changing timelines could be left to the philosophers; to Harry, only Hermione and Sirius's continued protection from harm and death, respectively, mattered now.<Besides>, he rationalized, <I already know there are differences in the timeline this time around, so what's the harm in a few more…especially ones that protect their lives?> The residents of Grimmauld Place all noticed that no matter where Harry was over the next few days, either learning about Percy's falling out with the Weasleys; the Black family history; or being told more about the Order of the Phoenix; he made sure he was never far from either Hermione or Sirius.
Fortunately, Harry was no longer the same ANGRY Harry he had been previously. Since he had begun to recall all the memories that had been blocked by Bella's curses, he knew what he had put everyone else through and he didn't want to do that again. Also, since he was much more mature this time around, he decided he wouldn't waste his energy by yelling at his friends and loved ones. And, after talking things over seriously with Hermione, he decided that this restraint would also extend to three adults who he felt had seriously violated his and Hermione's trust. He still wasn't happy with what they had done, but due to Hermione pointing out that no real harm was done to any of them and that they felt they were doing the best they could, he decided to let it go for now. "But, I still would like a chance for us to discuss this with the three of them when we get back to Hogwarts."
Harry also had other targets for his anger, based on his memories of what had happened to him both in the original timeline and the time loop to this point, and he decided that he would be better off in the long run focusing his energies on his true enemies…that is, when he wasn't helping in the cleaning of Grimmauld Place, avoiding Kreacher's foul moods, or trying to not disturb the portrait of Sirius's mum.
But first, there was the small matter of a trial at the Ministry of Magic…Harry, of course, remembered EXACTLY what happened last time. However, since he had not thought it wise to tell anyone about his unique knowledge he felt he had to go through the motions, confident that this scene would play out much the same way as before. The one thing he did differently was to urge Arthur to floo ahead to check the time of the hearing VERY carefully that morning, so they were right on time to enter the chamber…much to the displeasure of Cornelius Fudge and a few others.
As he first caught a glimpse of Dolores this time, sitting so far back on the bench that her face was hidden in shadow, he was surprised at the powerful anger he felt surge in him. It was strong enough for Hermione to notice and she immediately called out to his mind. <Harry…what's wrong? Are you all right? I just felt something coming from you…if I didn't know better; I would think it was pure hatred. Care to explain?>
As he struggled to regain control of his emotional response, he tried to calm her worries. Harry had not yet explained to Hermione exactly what she had done when she removed his memory block, because he wasn't sure she would believe him. <Sorry, Hermione…I just saw…well, I can't explain now. I promise I will tell you everything when we get back to Hogwarts…I need to talk to a few people with you first. Besides, the hearing is just about to begin, and I need to pay attention.>
She didn't sound too pleased with his evasive response, but she didn't press it at the moment. <Okay, Harry…but soon, I hope you can help me figure out what's going on. I see some…strange memories in your mind from time to time that don't make any sense.>
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice…
******
"Very well…very well…cleared of all charges."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. This time, however, Harry was ready for Dumbledore's attempt at escaping and positioned himself right in the doorway.
As the headmaster tried to avoid looking into the boy's eyes, Harry would have none of it and stared directly at him. "Professor Dumbledore, sir…Hermione and I need to meet with you, Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Miss Puckle immediately after the welcoming feast is over upon our return to school. Do not put me off or try to avoid looking at me. I know why you think you must, and that is one of the things we need to discuss. Oh, and one more thing…you need to seriously reconsider your choice for Gryffindor's prefect before you make a big mistake. Now, headmaster, I bid you good day."
This time it was Harry who swept from the dungeon, after once again looking into his headmaster's eyes and not feeling the slightest discomfort.
(A/N…Before you ask, no, Harry didn't hear Mundungus disapparate this time.)