Chapter 24: Weasley's and Riddles
Harry was pleased when eight o'clock finally rolled around; Charms, as last lesson of the day, had dragged so much that Harry didn't enjoy learning the otherwise fun Invigro Charm, which made inanimate objects come to life. They had practised on labour-saving devices earlier in the term, which had been a giggle at the time, but this lesson they tried the Charm on different things, namely toy soldiers - popular Muggle children's toys. They made them come to life and fight real battles, which would have been hugely enjoyable on almost any other day.
But Harry had just one thought on his mind; get to Occlumency, run over his theory with Dumbledore and see what the Headmaster thought of it, and if it was plausible. He was relieved to find the stone steps awaiting him, as he arrived for his lesson, but didn't let them carry him up as they revolved, choosing instead to vault upwards taking two or three steps at a time. He knocked the door a little more heavily than was needed.
'Come in, Harry,' said Dumbledore cheerily. Harry obliged, easing down the door handle and stepping into the beautiful circular room. He sat down opposite Dumbledore, his fingers twitching with anticipation, his wand screaming out to be withdrawn and used.
'You seem rather keen this evening,' continued Dumbledore, 'nice to see you have rediscovered your motivation.'
'Yeah…I have to break Snape's mind,' Harry blurted out.
'Really?' Dumbledore said in a voice of mild surprise, 'Have you a reason for this sudden urge?'
'He knows something, something about Ron. I don't think he can tell me because Voldemort will know. But if I learn to break his mind, I can see what he knows. It'll be like an accident, so Voldemort wont suspect anything.'
'That's the theory anyway,' smiled Dumbledore.
'Yeah…the, what? How do you know?'
'Well, being my theory, one would expect me to know its intricacies, its pitfalls. It isn't much of a plan if the risks are not anticipated.'
'I'm confused,' said Harry.
'The Empathisia Draught, Harry,' explained Dumbledore, 'I asked Professor Snape to include it on your syllabus for this term so that you may work out what I have surmised for some time; that your friend, Mr Weasley, has been under its influence for quite a while. You see, you have quite correctly worked out that Professor Snape cannot outright say what he has overheard regarding the plans that Voldemort has involving your friend. He cannot say them to you or to me, as Voldemort has performed a sort of Fidelius Charm on the knowledge. He cannot reveal its secrets to anyone, but that is not to say they cannot be forced from him. That you are proficient at Occlumency is a point that Voldemort has overlooked. His lack of attention to detail will be his undoing yet again.'
'So what's the plan? I assume there is one,' said Harry.
'You assume correctly. The plan Professor Snape and I have formulated involves you breaking into his mind. The problem is that you have to do it properly; at the moment all you can do is enter his mind. You need to be able to wield complete control over it in order to access a specific memory. Once you have done this, you must perform a charm that I will teach you closer to the time to transfer the memory to yourself. It will then be deposited into your Pensieve and both you and I will take a look at it.'
'When the time is right?' Harry queried, 'You mean we cant do it right away?'
'I'm afraid not,' said Dumbledore heavily, 'you see, Lord Voldemort demands update reports from his chief spy, Professor Snape. He, of course, feeds him false or otherwise useless information, hence his need for superb Occlumency skills to conceal his untruths from Voldemort. He was able to convince Voldemort that monthly reports would have to suffice, as anything more frequent would arouse suspicion. It takes Professor Snape this long to wipe the imprint of his associations with us from his memory, so that Voldemort is unable to tap into them. Our little meeting with Severus Snape will take place when he returns from his latest jaunt to Voldemort, at the end of January. We have to practice hard till then.'
And this they did. Harry hadn't been doing too well at his Occlumency for some time and after this lesson he really felt it. He was shaking so much on the way back to Gryffindor Tower an hour later that he felt like he was skipping down the corridor. He turned on his heel at the portrait hole and made instead for the Great hall to catch a last minute dinner. He was surprised to find Hermione waiting for him.
'How did it go?' she asked, an air of concern about her.
'Yeah…fine,' he replied, running his hands over his head.
'Your scar looks white,' said Hermione anxiously. 'It doesn't normally look like that.'
'Doesn't it? Oh…its probably because Dumbledore did Occlumency the way Snape used to tonight. It was weird…worse, somehow, for Dumbledore to see my worst memories than Snape.'
'Why?'
'Dunno,' said Harry gravely, 'with Snape it was embarrassing, but with Dumbledore…its like I'm weak and I don't like him seeing that. Anyway, wanna hear Dumbledore's big plan?'
And he recounted Dumbledore's words in between mouthfuls of steak and chips. Hermione just listened and nodded, somehow more relaxed now that she knew Dumbledore was behind the Occlumency plan. She let Harry eat relentlessly as she talked equally as ferociously about the success of her new 'SPEW and You' campaign. Over the chomping in his mouth Harry made out that Hermione had managed to attract ten new members to her free-the-house-elves club since adopting a less aggressive recruitment tactic. As long as it makes you happy, Harry thought…
Ron was more active in his excitement at Harry finally getting some answers to the riddle of Ron's behaviour, though he was distraught that he would have to wait a fortnight for them. Especially as he had endured another episode, involving him waking up in the cabbages in the grounds smelling of burnt tyres.
Ginny was eyeing them all suspiciously in the common room. Harry was equally as keen to find out her role in all this as anything else. Her suspect behaviour was as much, if not more, of a concern for Harry because he couldn't keep track of her like he could with Ron. This made her more of a variable in the equation, one Harry needed to know he value of in order to calculate how much of a danger she was.
The next few days trickled by with no real incident, unless you counted Terry Boot melting a cauldron in Potions, and Harry melting a tray in Care of Magical Creatures when he set fire to a Salamander. Though he suspected the creature wasn't entirely as innocent as Hagrid made it out to be.
On Saturday, Ron reminded Harry that now that the second Quidditch match of the season was approaching they would need to work hard if they were going to win. The team now consisted of Ron as keeper, Seamus and Dean as the new Beaters, Ginny and Alicia Spinnet, who had needed to retake her last year in order to get higher NEWT grades (she wanted to become a Healer, which needed top marks and Alicia was just short of these), were joined as Chasers by third year Natalie McDonald, which left Harry as reinstated Seeker. It wasn't as good as the team which had one the house Championship when Harry had last played a full season but Harry was encouraged by Ron's optimism.
'Seamus and Dean aren't bad beaters, both are strong and fly fairly well,' said Ron appraisingly as he and Harry watched the other team members flying around the pitch, 'then we've got Ginny and Alicia who are pretty good and that Natalie is stacked…I mean, has things stacked in her favour. Good flier…can catch, etc.'
Ron went rather red.
Harry didn't take it up any further, just smirked at Ron and kicked off the ground as the Captain smirked back. Flying was Harry's favourite thing in the world, except his fairly new love of being with Hermione alone. It was hardly surprising; it was the first thing in the magical world that he could do well, do naturally that didn't need any tuition. Harry circled the pitch at top speed to a chorus of appreciative whoops from Seamus and Dean. Harry knew he was showing off but didn't care; as long as he was on a broom he knew he was good enough to show off.
Harry saw Hermione again in the stands, watching the practice. She waved with one hand, her other holding a pair of ominoculars, the ones Harry had bought her at the Quidditch World Cup. He was surprised that she had kept them, but found that he was quite glad that she had. He felt touched over what seemed like such a minor thing, but also felt he should be slapped for acting so soppy.
Luna was there as well. As before she sat a few rows below Hermione, quite on her own. She was holding an unnecessarily large banner bearing the legend 'Weasley is Our King' in red and gold ink. Ron, Harry noticed, had gone a shade of red to match his hair at the sight of the banner, and was unfocused and unable to speak much for the rest of the practice.
It was lucky for Harry that the other team members knew the training routines off by heart due to Ron's embarrassment-induced paralysis. Harry learnt there and then why everyone had come in so tired after practice before; the moves were faster, more complex and required more effort both physically and mentally than anything even Oliver Wood could have devised. It wasn't helped by the frozen weather and the icy wind whipping the players' faces and stinging fingers already struggling to hold onto frozen broom handles.
Harry was glad when they all shivered and shuddered back into the castle an hour and a half later, remembering how good a cure a gruelling Quidditch training was and making you forget your worries. Hermione was waiting in the common room having dashed off once training was over. Harry was overjoyed to see her holding a jug of steaming butterbeer and mugs for three.
'Hermione! Where did you get that?' Harry asked, grinning.
'I've got contacts in the kitchen,' she beamed, 'shall I serve?'
'You'd better,' said Ron as his teeth chattered.
They sat there for several minutes in relaxed silence; Harry wondering at the marvellous effects of hot butterbeer on a cold body. When they did speak it was idle chitchat about lessons and homework. This is how its supposed to be, Harry thought. This is what school would be like if Voldemort wasn't trying to kill me and I wasn't either the saviour or the last hurdle to destruction of the magical world. Strangely enough, he found that only half of him thought this was a nice ideal. Secretly, Harry suspected, he quite enjoyed the excitement and interest of an extraordinary life, even if it did come close to ending on a regular basis.
'Well, Ron,' said Hermione suddenly, and with quite a pointed tone, 'I see Luna was there again tonight. Your own personal cheering section. I think she fancies you, you know.'
Harry looked at her and saw her grinning cunningly. Half of Harry's mind was leaning towards the idea of Hermione teasing Ron, but the other knew that she was tuned into the female psyche enough to make her bold statement a real possibility. Her tone bristled with an undercurrent of encouragement at the idea, killing any little lingering doubts that had resided in the deepest of Harry's mind that she might have feelings for Ron.
'She does not fancy me!' cried Ron, blushing like a girl.
'She might do, mate,' said Harry debatingly, 'I mean, think about it. You always go on about how she follows you around…you could say like a lovesick puppy,' Hermione choked on her butterbeer, 'and she's number one fan of "Weasley is our king," what's that say to you? Are you her king, Ron? Are you? Are you?'
'No,' snapped Ron, getting quite angry, 'no I'm bloody well not, so just drop it.'
'Ok, ok, calm down,' said Harry.
'Yeah, we were only teasing,' added Hermione soothingly.
'Well don't,' said Ron sharply, 'neither of you like being teased so just lay off. I don't want to hear that again, ok? God, I'm annoyed now. I'm going to bed.'
And he stormed off towards the dormitory.
'What's wrong with him?' Hermione said scathingly; Harry just shrugged.
Ron wasn't to be found anywhere on Sunday, and Harry found this very perturbing. He strongly suspected his vanishing act was not entirely of his own doing and for this reason Harry was very eager for him to return before he did any damage. Harry and Hermione searched the castle and the grounds twice to try and find him, but saw neither him nor anyone he might have hurt. This last point, at least, was of some comfort.
Ron turned up, at last, in the evening, just after dinner. He looked bedraggled and tired, dirty from head to foot. Harry thought he looked like he'd been wrestling with Grawp.
'Ron, where have you been!' Hermione yelled, not too unlike Mrs Weasley.
'I've been out.'
'Out? Out where?'
'In the grounds. Looking.'
'Looking for what?' Harry asked fearfully.
'Ginny,' said Ron absently, Harry felt his stomach churn horribly.
'Ginny?' Hermione asked, nervously. 'Ron…what have you done?'
'Nothing,' said Ron earnestly, 'Luna asked me if I'd seen her. She said she had something to give her so I went to get her but couldn't find her. I've looked all over and she's nowhere. I've been searching the Forest, you know, in case I went all Mr Hyde and did something terrible. I only gave up cos I'm so cold.'
'We have to go and see someone, tell them,' said Hermione urgently, Ron waved his hand.
'Already been to McGonagall, she said she'd look for her. But that was ages ago. If she had found her she would have…'
Just then, as if by psychic coincidence, the portrait hole swung open and Professor McGonagall herself entered, her face a shade of white that drained all hope from Harry's mind.
'Weasley…we have found your sister. I think you'd better come with me. Mr Potter? Miss Granger? Perhaps you would like to accompany me?'
They shot up and made after Ron who was on Professor McGonagall's robe tails. She led them away from the common room and on a route Harry knew all too well and it couldn't have meant anything good for Ginny. They were heading for the Hospital Wing.
They entered the ward with Ron shaking with guilty anticipation. Harry couldn't help but think he had every right to feel this way, knowing that whatever had happened to Ginny was very likely Ron's doing. They found her in the middle of the ward, quite unconscious in a bed under the window. A large, black mark had been scorched across her face like some oily tyre track.
'We found her like this,' said Professor McGonagall gravely, 'well, it was actually the Gryffindor Ghost who found her, just over an hour ago. She was in the corridor outside the girls' bathroom. This thing,' she gestured at the black mark, 'seems irremovable and we think it is keeping her unconscious. All our normal treatments have failed to revive her. I don't suppose any of you have any idea what this may be, or who may have done it?'
Harry looked at Ron, whose blank gaze was fixed on Ginny though not really seeing her at all. Harry nodded the negative to Professor McGonagall's question, seeing Hermione doing the same; Ron seemed to be in too much shock to respond. Professor McGonagall sighed in expected disappointment and left, saying she would leave them with Ginny. Hermione pulled chairs around the bed and they all sat.
Silence weighed heavy on the atmosphere in the ward. No-one spoke, no one seemed brave enough. Harry didn't have the words, and was sure Hermione felt the same. It was Ron who spoke after some time, but didn't say what Harry expected.
'Its my fault,' said Ron, Harry didn't agree verbally but knew he was right, 'if I wasn't so weak I wouldn't be controlled. If I wasn't close to you, I wouldn't be a target. Well, they've gone too far now. I'm sick of this. There is one person whose fault this is, and its time I dealt with him.'
Harry felt the aggressive look from Ron and registered suddenly what he was saying; so, apparently, did Hermione.
'No, Ron,' she said, her tone mixture of fear and warning, 'you and Harry aren't going to fight again.'
'Harry?' Ron said surprised, 'No, not Harry. The only fighting we're going to do is alongside each other, I hope. No, I'm going for the real person responsible.'
Harry hoped he wasn't going to say what he thought he would. He wasn't exactly relieved when he didn't.
'I'm going for Malfoy,' said Ron flatly.
'What?' spat Harry, as much in surprise as anything, 'Don't be silly. You cant…'
'Oh, I see?' Ron said angrily, 'its ok for you to go and fight whoever you want but when I do it its silly?'
'No, I didn't mean…'
'I don't care what you mean. I only want to know one thing right now: are you my friend?. I'm going to fight Malfoy, and I'm going now. If you were ever my friend you'll fight alongside me. I'm leaving. You coming…or not?'
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