Author's Note: Yay! I have more! Not much more, but enough to keep you at bay until my beta reader finishes editing the next two chapters I have for her. I will tell you this, though, I'm very close to finishing the story. I'll have it done by the time DH comes out. If I keep updating like I am now, so will you. Enjoy the chapter!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MOODY'S TEST
Groggily, Harry woke up to find Madam Pomfrey hovering over him with her wand out. His head was still throbbing painfully as he looked around. He was in the hospital wing and sitting nearby was Professor Dumbledore, looking very somber.
He groaned as a particularly nasty throb shot through his skull.
"I need to you sit up, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "I have a potion for you to drink to ease the pain."
With effort, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position. Madam Pomfrey thrust a goblet full of a chalky blue liquid into his hand.
"Drink that down," she said.
Harry did as ordered. It wasn't a very pleasant potion to drink. It tasted as though Harry was gulping down a goblet full of liquefied mushrooms with a hint of putrid bleu cheese. He gagged.
"Come on, boy, drink it down. It's not that bad," Madam Pomfrey said.
Harry seriously begged to differ. "Don't you have anything else less…potent?" he asked.
"It's the strongest painkilling potion there is," Madam Pomfrey said. "Does your head hurt anymore?"
He frowned and shook his head.
"There, you see. Worked like a charm!"
"Poppy," Dumbledore said quietly, "would you mind it if I spoke to Mr. Potter alone for a moment?"
"Certainly, sir. I have to go bottle up that Dreamless Sleep Draught for him anyway," Madam Pomfrey said and walked back to her office.
Harry turned to Dumbledore, who stared back at him with sad eyes.
"I am terribly sorry for the pain you went through this evening, Harry," Dumbledore began.
"It's okay, sir. I don't care. You broke through the barrier, didn't you? I can-I can remember what happened now," Harry said, his thoughts filled with the night that Voldemort had met the Egyptian curse caster Imhotep Rameses. He remembered how he, as Voldemort, complimented Rameses on his knowledge of different languages and how Rameses had been told that he could not be cursing anything even though that was what he was known for.
"Yes, I broke through your mental barrier and I have examined your memories," Dumbledore said.
"What d'you think Voldemort's up to, sir?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore frowned. "I have a few theories, however, I am sure that they are more than likely wrong."
"Well, what's one of them?" Harry asked.
"I have been pondering over whether or not Voldemort wants to break into Gringotts," he said.
"To rob it?"
"Yes. The high security vaults have spells and enchantments placed on them by the goblins. I wonder if Mr. Rameses has any experience with Gobbledegook. If not, that could be the reason why he has to do research," he said.
Harry, who had been imaging what Voldemort could do with a vast amount of money, merely nodded his head.
"I am probably wrong, though. That's why I have other theories." Before Harry could speak though, he continued, "I imagine you are exhausted. Madam Pomfrey will return momentarily with a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draught for you to take with you back to your dormitory. Before you drink it, though, I do ask that you clear your mind. It is weak right now after my invasion. It is very prone to attack. Do not let Voldemort in."
"I won't, sir. I'll perform Occlumency before I drink the potion," Harry assured him.
"Good. Now, I should return to my office. I would tell you to have sweet dreams, but, of course, you won't be having any at all," Dumbledore said with a small quiver of his mustache. He got up and left.
Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office. "Did the headmaster leave?" She handed Harry a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draught. "Well, Potter, take that back to your dormitory and drink it down. I think you'll find it tastes better than that last potion I gave you, but you've had this before, haven't you?"
Harry nodded.
"I don't usually approve of having students take this outside of the infirmary, but Professor Dumbledore insisted that you be allowed to return to your dormitory this evening. I won't bother asking why he was performing such forceful Legilimency on you. It's none of my business. But you are very lucky it didn't cause brain damage," Madam Pomfrey said.
"Er-thanks for the potion," Harry said, getting up.
As he walked to the door, Madam Pomfrey said, "How many more times should I expect you in my ward the rest of the year, Potter?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? I still got a Quidditch match to play in and God only knows what will happen to me in that."
She frowned. "Too right. Very well, Potter. Good night."
"Good night, ma'am," he said and left.
*****
Harry had spent a good half-hour quieting his mind before he drank the Dreamless Sleep Draught and immediately nodded off. When he woke up at dawn, he felt the peace that usually accompanies a good night's sleep without any dreams. In fact, he never even felt the need to yawn as he usually did while getting ready for his morning runs.
Due to the warm spring air, Harry changed into a pair of sweat pants and one of his sleeveless undershirts. The walked out of the dormitory quietly and headed down to the common room. As always, it was empty. Harry walked through it and out the portrait hole. The Fat Lady had stopped scolding him about going out so early. All she said was, "I hope you have some water!"
Once he exited the castle, he set off on his jog. The morning dew clung to each blade of grass, wetting the soles of his trainers as he ran down the sloping lawn. Ahead of him, the sky reflected on the smooth surface of the lake.
He breathed in the morning air as he began to jog around the lake. Usually he occupied himself with thoughts on his runs, but that morning he didn't want to think about a thing. No, he wanted to keep his mind quiet for as long as possible. He wanted to keep Voldemort away from him.
A light breeze fluttered through the trees. When it hit him, he accepted it gladly, letting it blow his hair out of his eyes. His body, which had begun to sweat, cooled upon feeling the colder air.
As he began to round the lake back towards Hogwarts, he ran into the shadows of the nearby trees. It was a couple of degrees cooler there, making it a tad too cold for Harry's tastes. Vaguely he wished he had pulled on a heavier shirt, but then dismissed the idea. He'd be sweating even worse if he had.
He jumped over a large tree branch and then looked up at the sky. The rising sun brought hues of orange to the lightening blue sky. There wasn't a single cloud in sight. That was good news to Harry, who had Quidditch practice scheduled for later on that day. He and his team had played in enough harsh weather. They deserved a nice, sunny day to practice on.
Instead of running straight back to Hogwarts, Harry veered off toward the Forbidden Forest. He liked the amount of cover it provided for his next bit of exercise that Moody had demanded that he do.
When he found a tree with a low hanging branch, he stopped and inhaled deeply. The smell of plant life, alive and dead, filled him. He rather liked the smell and wished that he could have gone camping in the woods when he was younger, but the Dursleys would never have done that. For one thing, they hated the woods and for another, they would never have taken Harry on a family holiday.
He felt a stab of remorse when he thought of how his aunt could never go on a family holiday again. She may have been despicable toward him, but he still cared that his mother's sister was gone.
Fleetingly, he wondered how Mrs. Weasley was doing. It had been four months since Mr. Weasley's death and June would be the one year mark since Percy's passing. Ron and Ginny seemed to be coping with it the best they could, yet neither of them would talk about their father if they could help it.
Then there were the other casualties of the war-Cornelius Fudge, for instance. He hadn't been the greatest minister in the world and he hadn't treated Harry very kindly during his fifth year, but Harry would always remember his pin-striped cloak and lime green bowler hat that he always wore.
He stripped off his shirt and laid down on the grass. As he began his round of sit-ups, he thought of his fellow Hogwarts students that had been affected by both the current war and the one before it. Susan Bones lost some of her relatives. Hunter Farrell's father had been killed during a Death Eater attack the summer before last. Neville's parents lay in St. Mungo's Hospital, their sanity gone.
Of course, most prominent of those who had been killed to Harry was his own godfather, Sirius Black. It had nearly been two years ago since Harry had last seen the face of his father's best friend. It had been nearly two years since he had last heard Sirius's voice or bark-like laugh.
He turned over onto his stomach and began to do push-ups. He would see Sirius once again, though. He knew it. He would see his parents, too, and they could all be happy together. He could practically see his father's grinning face and Sirius's wink. He could practically feel his mother's embrace.
He got up and walked over to the low branch. He jumped up and grabbed it before proceeding to do pull-ups, a new exercise that Moody had added in their last training session. Harry grunted as he pulled himself up over and over again, his muscles aching as he did so.
"Oh! I wasn't expected to see this," said a familiar voice from behind him.
He dropped to the ground immediately and turned to see Hermione standing behind him, her eyes gazing as beads of sweat rolled down his bare chest.
"'Morning," he said, fetching his shirt from the ground. "What are you doing out here?"
"Well, I got up really early and saw you out on the grounds running, but then you disappeared into the trees and didn't come back out, so I decided to see what you were up to," she said, stepping toward him and placing her fingers on his torso, tracing the paths of faint scars that were there. "I see you still have some mementos from the last time we saw Professor Lupin as a werewolf."
"Yeah," he said, putting the shirt on and covering up the scars. "I figure I'll have quite a few scars by the end of this war."
"None more important than the one on your forehead. Speaking of which, how did Occlumency go with Dumbledore? You didn't talk to either me or Ron when you got back," she said as they began to walk back up toward the castle.
"Dumbledore finally broke through the mental barrier," he told her.
She stopped. "He did? Oh, Harry, why didn't you tell us?"
"Because I was under orders to go immediately to bed and drink some Dreamless Sleep Draught to help knock me out," Harry said.
Hermione had a concerned look on her face. "Why?"
"Mainly because my mind, after being invaded by Dumbledore, was weak and open to Voldemort. Dumbledore wanted me to perform Occlumency and fall straight asleep afterwards. I think it worked."
"Was it…painful?" she asked.
He frowned. "Very. Dumbledore had to Stun me just to ease my pain so that he could transfer me to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey could give me something to get rid of it."
"That's horrible!"
"No kidding. But I don't have a headache this morning. I don't feel any pain whatsoever, unless you count the complaint my muscles are giving me for adding more exercises to my daily routine," he said and started toward the castle again. "They'll get used to it."
"I'm sure they will. So, what did Dumbledore uncover?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Let's wait until Ron's up so I don't have to repeat myself, okay?"
"Sure. That sounds good."
When they got back and Harry had showered and gotten ready for the day, he told Ron and Hermione everything about the memory that Dumbledore had broken into in hushed tones before they had gone down to breakfast that morning.
"I don't understand why Voldemort would want a curse caster if he doesn't want him to cast a curse," Hermione said suddenly after pouring herself a bowel of cereal. "It doesn't make sense!"
"I know it doesn't," Harry said.
"What could he possibly have this Rameses researching, then? Old, obscure branches of magic?"
"That's what I've been wondering," Harry said. "I don't understand it any more than you do."
Hermione frowned into her uneaten bowl of cereal. "I'm going to the library," she announced.
"What?" Ron cried. "You haven't even touched your food yet!"
She rolled her eyes. "There are more important things in life than food, Ron."
"Yeah, water and air," Ron muttered after she had left. "That's it."
Harry took a bite of his bagel, wondering what his girlfriend could possibly be up to.
*****
The week seemed to pass by quickly. Harry spent his weekend keeping his homework pile under control, spending long hours in the library with both Ron and Hermione, although Ron would sometimes leave them to go see Luna.
On Monday evening there was yet another prefects' meeting. As custom for Harry, he walked in behind Ron and Hermione, taking his place at the front of the classroom.
"I'm calling this meeting to order," Hermione said briskly, standing next to Harry. "As you all know, this year's Dueling Contest is coming up, yet we don't have a proper date for it yet."
"The end of May," a fifth-year Hufflepuff boy said promptly. "Like last year."
"Yes, well, I thought of that, too," Hermione said, "but Dumbledore has a Mentorship Day scheduled for the end of May. Do we really want to have two events so close together?"
"We should make it the first Saturday in June," Luna said serenely from where she sat next to Ron and along the edge of the Ravenclaw prefects.
"Yeah," Ron said, nodding. "People can use the contest as a way for them to brush up on their practical Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. and N.E.W.T."
"But what about those who don't have to worry about O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s?" asked a sixth-year Ravenclaw girl. "They should be studying for their end of the year exams."
Harry stepped forward. "You bring up an excellent point, but who cares about knowing the theory of spells, curses, and jinxes if you don't know how to do them properly? It's good practice for everyone all around."
"Besides," Ron said. "It's the beginning of June. There's still plenty of time to hit the books."
Hermione held up her hands to silence them. "Does anyone else have a suggestion for a day that we should hold the Dueling Contest?"
People looked at each other, but said nothing.
"Everyone in favor of the first Saturday in June, raise your hand," Harry said.
Ron and Luna raised their hands, along with several others. Hermione counted the number of votes. "We're one shy of the majority," she said.
"Put me down for it too, Granger," Malfoy said suddenly from the back of the room. "That way we don't have to stay here any longer than necessary."
"Very well. Motion passed. I will inform Professor McGonagall," she said. "Is there anything else that anyone would like to bring up?" When no one spoke, she shrugged and said, "Okay, you're dismissed."
*****
The following morning before breakfast, Harry was stopped by Professor Dumbledore, who appeared to be waiting for him on the second floor landing.
"May I have a word with you, Harry?" he asked.
"Er-of course, sir," he said, waving Ron and Hermione along. "I'll meet you downstairs."
They walked along in silence together until they reached a secluded corridor. Dumbledore stopped and turned to Harry. "I was hoping, Harry, that you'd be willing to drop by my office this evening. I wish to do a follow-up lesson with you after everything that happened last week."
"Er-yes, sir. Certainly. I'll be there at my usual time," Harry said.
"Excellent. See you this evening," he said with a smile and walked away.
Harry headed downstairs to the Great Hall.
"What did Dumbledore want?" Ron asked when Harry sat down.
"A follow-up lesson," he replied.
"You mean he can't wait until you see him on Friday?" Ron asked.
Harry frowned. It was about time Ron knew the truth as well. "Well, no, considering I don't see him on Fridays," he said.
Ron stared at him. "What d'you mean? You see him every other Friday for Occlumency lessons."
"No, I don't," he said in a low voice. "Actually, I see Moody and Lupin, who give me Auror training."
Ron's eyes went wide. "You can't be serious!"
"I am," Harry said.
He turned to Hermione, who nodded. "You knew?"
"He told me last Monday," she said.
He frowned. "Why am I always the last to know these things?"
"You're not," Harry said. "You're the second. No one else knows and it's got to stay that way, okay?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, alright. If it's got to."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
"No problem." He glanced around and then said, "So what's it like?"
"Hard," Harry replied. "Moody certain does like to bust people's chops."
"Blimey, Moody teaching you how to fight like an Auror. That must be intense."
Harry laughed. "You have no idea."
"So what d'you think Dumbledore's going to have you do tonight?" Ron asked.
"I haven't got a clue, but I suppose I'll find out, won't I?"
What Dumbledore apparently had in mind, however, was just a normal Occlumency lesson. He stood before Harry on the opposite side of his desk, his wand raised while Harry held his wand in his hand, determined to keep Dumbledore-and anyone else-out of his mind.
"Legilimens!" Dumbledore yelled.
It was like having double vision. Harry could see the memory of Hermione running to him, yelling, "You solved it! You solved it!" but he could also see Dumbledore standing before him. Harry raised his wand.
"Locomotor Mortis!"
Dumbledore's legs snapped together momentarily. Harry felt the pressure ease from his mind as Dumbledore left it in order to deal with the Leg Locker Curse that Harry had cast upon him.
"Good. Very good," he said, smiling. "Again, I think. Legilimens!"
Harry felt the pressure in his mind and saw the look of jealousy on Ron's face when he received the Head Boy badge, yet he also saw Dumbledore. He raised his wand again.
"Protego!"
The contact was instantly broken, causing Dumbledore's smile to widen. "Yes, Harry, excellent. Once more, I think. Legilimens!"
Harry felt the pressure. Before one of his memories could even come up, he pointed his wand at Dumbledore and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" With a satisfied smirk, he watched Dumbledore's wand fly out of his hand and hit the floor.
"Wonderful, Harry! Well done! I must say, you have healed quite well."
"Healed, sir?"
"From my bombardment of your mind last week. I feared it might weaken you, but here you are, standing before me and doing better than ever," Dumbledore said, looking delighted. "Let us sit."
Harry sat down and waited until Dumbledore was settled before he spoke. "I feel more determined than ever to do well at this, sir."
"Good, I am glad to hear it. That is probably the reason why you just performed so wonderfully well," Dumbledore said.
"I felt like I had more control over what was going on," Harry said. "I could see you."
"Ah, that shows a true level of concentration," Dumbledore said. "Tell me, Harry, has your scar hurt you at all since last Tuesday? Have you seen anything?"
Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I've been trying to perform Occlumency whenever I can, especially at night."
"Good. That is what needs to be done." He was gazing deeply into Harry's eyes. "I am very proud at the progress you've made, Harry."
Harry felt a pressure on his mind and, with all his might, he forced the presence out.
Dumbledore laughed. "Bravo, Harry. You can even withstand an unanticipated intrusion. That is very good, indeed."
"I feel this pressure on my mind whenever you try to enter it," Harry told him.
He nodded. "Yes, that is what most Occlumens say they feel once they recognize what an invasion feels like. I am quite proud of you, Harry. I believe that it is now safe to say that you have mastered Occlumency."
Harry sat there, amazed. "Really, sir?"
"Yes. You are able to force an intruder out of your mind with relative ease. I would say that qualifies as mastery," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly. "Your training is coming along very well. Very soon, I think you will have everything you will need to fight Lord Voldemort."
Harry couldn't help but swell in pride at the headmaster's compliments.
*****
Friday came and with it, another training session with Moody and Lupin. In class, Lupin had told Harry that that night's training session would take place in the dungeons. Harry had a rather ominous feeling about this, however. Moody and Lupin had never held their training sessions in the dungeon before.
With two minutes to spare, Harry arrived at the dungeon that Lupin had told him to meet them in. He went to pull open the door but found it to be locked.
Harry frowned. "Alohomora," he said, waving his hand over the lock. He heard a loud click, signaling the door had been unlocked. He pulled it open.
The room was pitch black. Harry couldn't see a thing. He fumbled around in his robes for a moment and took out his wand. "Lumos," he murmured and the wand's tip ignited.
That's when it happened.
Harry was suddenly seized from behind and pulled off the floor as something knocked his wand away. It clattered to the floor and went out, plunging the room into blackness once more.
He struggled against whoever was holding him, kicking madly. With his free arm, he grabbed at the hands hold him, prying a finger off of him and pulling it upward. He bent his head and sunk his teeth into it.
"AARGH!" he person holding him cried, releasing him.
Harry dropped to the floor. He groped around for his wand, but felt someone stomp past him and then heard his wand roll away as if it had been kicked.
He looked up, but of course could see nothing. He wished that he could see, but his eyes hadn't adapted to the darkness yet. He was stuck with his other senses.
Listening hard, he heard someone move around him. He kicked out toward the noise and felt his foot collide solidly with the person's stomach. He heard a groan of pain as the person wheezed.
Using the noise to his advantage, he followed it to its source and tried to grab the person, but another hit him in the shoulder blades, knocking him forward and into the wall, the other person having just gotten out of the way.
Harry grunted in pain and moved against the wall, away from his attackers. He had to find something-anything-he could use against the two of them. Where was his wand?
It occurred to Harry then to use his ability with wandless magic, but something held him back. He didn't want two more people in the world to know that he could control magic without the use of a wand.
Suddenly, the two were upon him again. One grabbed him by the shoulders while the other grabbed him by the legs. He was lifted off of the ground and being carried out into the middle of the room. Frantically, Harry used his right foot to slip the back end of his shoe over his left heel. Then, with a well aimed jerk, he sent the shoe flying off of his foot where he heard it collide with the head of the person who was holding his legs. His legs were dropped.
Harry used the momentum of his falling weight to twist himself toward his other attacker. He used his arms to push the attacker away from him. Freed, he decided he had to do one thing: get to the door.
He ran for it, holding his hands out in front of him, waiting for them to hit solid wall, but suddenly, one of the attackers flung himself on the floor and grabbed him by the ankle. Harry twisted and kicked out toward where he estimated the person's face was, but apparently missed.
With a small whooshing sound, something collided painfully with his gut. He doubled over. The next thing he knew, one of his attackers hit him with an uppercut. He felt blood fill his mouth.
He wasn't about to give up, though. He punched back, although he merely hit the air. He heard one gasp slightly near where his fist was and, guessing correctly, the next time he connected brilliantly with someone's jaw.
He heard footsteps step behind him. Ready for another attack from behind, Harry executed a roundhouse kick that Moody had taught him and sent the other attacker sprawling to the floor.
Harry turned back to the one he had just punched. He reached out, felt the person's shoulder, and then kneed him, feeling very satisfied when he heard the attacker cry out in pain and crumple to the floor.
"That's enough," he heard one of them croak.
The lanterns in the room suddenly lit up and Harry found himself standing between Moody and Lupin, both of whom where on the floor. Moody, the one Harry had kicked, was reaching out for his magical eye, which had popped out in the fight. Lupin, meanwhile, was cringing.
"You had to hit me there, didn't you, Harry?" he gasped.
"Sorry," Harry murmured, staring at the two of them.
Eventually, they pulled themselves together and stood up to face Harry. Both of them were bleeding. Harry knew he was too. He could feel that his lip was cut.
"What was all this about?" he asked.
"It was a test," Moody said gruffly, "to see if you're ready to move on to the final stage of my training. You passed."
"Congratulations, Harry," Lupin said with a wince.
"Er-thanks. What am I moving onto next, then?" Harry asked.
"Weapons," Moody said. "Staffs, swords, crossbows, and daggers. Sound fun, Potter?"
"Sounds dangerous," he said. "But I want to learn."
"That's the attitude to have. Alright, Potter, you've done enough damage tonight. You can go."
"I think I might want to see Madam Pomfrey before I go to bed," Lupin said, still wincing.
"At least to get those bruises that are forming cleared up," Moody said. "You might want to visit her too, Potter."
"That's okay," Harry said. "She's seen me enough already these past two weeks."
"Very well," Moody said. "Until next Friday."
"'Bye," Harry said and left.
So that had been a test to see if he was ready to move on. A test that he passed. He grinned, very pleased with himself, as he headed back toward Gryffindor Tower.
He was on the fourth floor, just about to walk up a hidden staircase to the fifth, when someone called his name. He turned. Ginny was running toward him at full speed. He held his hands out to stop her.
"Ginny? What's wrong?" he asked.
She was clutching the stitch in her side and breathing heavily. "I-I know-I know-"
"Take it easy," Harry said. "Breathe."
She inhaled deeply and then exhaled. She repeated this several more times before she said, "Harry, we have to go see Professor Dumbledore. I know what city is going to be attacked next."