Every parent leaves something behind for their children to remember them by. Lily Evans didn't know, when she left her diary behind, that it would help her son into knowing her and himself…or did she?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Cicciobello, Kevin Creevy, the Stalker Mob, Lily's diary, Krista, and the plot. Oh, yeah, and the Diggorinta too! You know it, I know it, so let's move on.
I'm sorry with the whole delay with this, but as it is I'm having a LOT of trouble with my computer, and I haven't even been able to log on since the last time I updated (how long ago was that?). By the way, did you know that Italy had a total black out a while back? That kinda held me back too. A really big sorry to sassywitch15 who's been emailing and reviewing repeatedly for this. Sorry, Jess, I love you ^_^.
A couple of notes, Peevesdude23: I'm sorry if you took it that way, because I'm actually a punk, too. I guess I didn't write Kevin very well, but with him I'd meant to have one of those fake punk that either end up looking ridiculous or scary, I meant no offence. Josherz18: Yes, I love teasing! VWChika: Are you serious? I love your writing! I already have two betas, but neither will be working on this story, so if you're serious, please drop me a line in my inbox, thanks. Enough of my ramblings.
And now: on with the fic
Harry Potter and the Knowledge of a Mother
Chapter 9: Training and detention
Sitting in the nearly empty Transfiguration classroom-sealed with a locking spell to keep Sirius's presence hidden from the rest of the students-three seventh years listened with varying degree of attention as Professor Minerva McGonagall droned on the explanation of the inner workings of tranfiguring into Animagi.
Sirius sat snoring at her desk.
Harry and Hermione sat taking notes, both rather interested in anything that had to do with transforming themselves into animals, while Ron fumed and glared at the teacher's back each time she turned. Why did they have to do these special lessons on Hogsmeade weekends? Of course, Krista was understanding, she knew that with friends like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger came some responsibility. She was even nice enough not to ask what it was, but that didn't mean that he had to be as understanding as she.
Nope, he was rather mad. Sure, he'd been exited that he would learn to become an Animagus, but he did NOT wish to learn to do so on his personal time! They should have thought to do it after classes, in the tutoring hours, or something like that. Besides, they had the N.E.W.T.s that year (for which he still hadn't started studying), and with that on top of it, they had better give them all extra credit!
Finally, when he thought he might self combust from all the fire glares he was giving McGonagall, said teacher turned from the board announcing that they would start small practices in the next lesson, and that, for the moment they were dismissed. Ron practically jumped from his seat, McGonagall gave him one of her stern looks, and then she began to work on the tough task that was awakening Sirius, who was very much sleeping like a log.
Once he'd woken, and transformed into 'Snuffles', they removed the locking charm and left the classroom. Ron noticed, however, that nobody had yet returned from Hogsmeade, including Krista, and there was still a long time to come before it became dinner time. "Alright, let's go read the diary," he mumbled, stretching his arms over his head and netting his fingers at his nape.
"Isn't it nice how he comes to us only when he knows Krista's not around?" Hermione mumbled, rolling her eyes and giving Harry a pregnant look, he laughed at her, giving her an affectionate pat on the shoulder.
"Hey, I resent that," Ron yelled back, sending the two into more giggles, and eventually ending up laughing himself. Well, he had to admit, he hadn't been very close to the two of them, especially now that they seemed to need him the most. There was a void growing between the two, and he wasn't doing a thing to stop it. Even Krista was admonishing him because of it. Well, he'd try to work on it now.
Since the common room was full of the younger students that weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade yet, including the Stalker Mob, Kevin Creevy, and Cicciobello who was terrorising the lot of them, they made a mad dash for the dormitiories, and managed to reach Hermione's room before anyone took notice of them. Because of the Stalkers, Madam Malkins had been forced to always keep Harry's measurements nearby in case that he might need an emergency set of robes.
In all honesty, Harry, though he'd been attentive to the lesson at first glance, was lost in his own self pitying thoughts. Hermione must have thought him a thick-skulled retard when he'd told her to forget the more than memorable kisses they'd shared. He really hadn't had a choice, though.
If she'd known what was going on she would have put a stop to it herself. Maybe that was the reason for why he still hadn't told her, or even Ron. Ron would be worried for about three minutes, and then it would get pushed to the back of his mind because of more impending things in his life, such as Krista.
Hermione would go ballistic. She'd start naming any faculty member from Dumbledore, who was the only one to know besides Harry himself, Madame Pomfrey, all the way to Madame Pince, the librarian. What was the point of consulting the librarian, he had no idea, but Hermione seemed to have her and the library as her constant last resort.
No, he couldn't tell them that his scar had started to bother him again, in ever increasing amounts as well. Every day, the itch would grow just slightly until it became a constant crawl under his skin, and then a throb. Trouble was not too far behind them, but he'd decided-with Dumbledore's advice-to not mention anything until they would complete their Animagus training. That way, they would have at least that one more weapon against them.
Harry shook himself of the thoughts. They weren't the right things to think about while the two people he wished to protect were right there to notice his dark composure. Turning to Hermione he gave her all his attention as she began to read Lily's diary.
Lily had started her seventh year at Hogwarts as Head Girl, a very surprised Head Girl, since, for some unfathomable reason, James had been made Head Boy. Every one had been a little put off by the fact that a well known prankster, the Prefects' nightmare, and not even one himself, had made the position of Head Boy. Still, soon everyone realised that Dumbledore probably couldn't have made a better choice because James took the job seriously right away, and did it exceptionally well.
The only one who didn't seem too happy about the whole prospect had been Severus Snape.
But that was of secondary importance to Lily. In those days, she hardly wrote of anything or anyone but James. Since the two were sharing their own common room it was inevitable that they'd spend a considerable amount of extra time together, despite both of their responsibilities, and, just as inevitably, they'd ended up getting closer and closer still, until, rather early in their year, Harry and Ron found themselves listening to Hermione's voice reading the description that Lily had penned of her first lovemaking experience with James.
If anyone asked me for details, or how it started, or what was actually going on, I wouldn't be able to tell them. When I was in his arms, I was nothing but a creature of feeling, drinking in everything that was James. All I could see was his face, hovering over mine, looking like the pleasure he was feeling was almost torture to him. He refused to take off his glasses. He said he wanted to see me and see me well, and, as far as I remember, he never took his eyes off mine, and I love him for that, because, looking at him I found myself completely ignorant of everything that was going on around me. It gave me an anchor.
Besides that, all I really remember was that it was slow, loving but passionate, that he handled me with the greatest care, and that it was the most magical thing that I ever experienced in my life. I felt complete and whole because the missing part of me had finally joined the rest. Everything he did, was for me, and me alone.
I don't think I could ever feel as loved.
But the most beautiful thing, the most beautiful of all…well, that was this morning, when I woke up and found him fast asleep, clutching me as though I was an anchor, his glasses askew on his face because he hadn't taken them off, our bodies entwined, both safely nestled in my bed.
It felt like coming home. Like I had finally found my home.
Whenever I'm with him, I feel like my existence has a meaning.
And what we did last night proved it, because it was the most meaningful thing that I could ever experience. I spent most of the morning watching him sleep, and when he woke, we spent the rest of the day together, kissing, talking, and making sweet love.
There was a pause, and then Ron spoke a little too loudly, a little too suddenly. "I didn't feel like that the first time I did it," he told them openly.
Hermione's head shot up, red faced and upset because he'd ruined the perfect atmosphere that had created itself at Lily's description. In her opinion, it was perfect, it wasn't vulgar, and it was pure emotion. Ron had just crushed all that. "WHAT?!" She screeched at him in challenge.
"Well, see, when we first did it, we completely lost control, we were like two animals. Like we didn't get to eat for weeks and we were each other's food," he explained, and didn't bother to stop there. His description went on, in full detail, and Hermione found herself listening, her mind boggled, as one of her best friends described sexual acts from a male point of view that she had never dreamed-or wanted-to hear. Especially from Ron's vulgar mouth.
"Okay," she interrupted him, her voice squeaky in disbelieving, embarrassed anger, "go away," she ordered. "Now."
Ron swallowed, suddenly afraid that she might let her anger loose, and made himself small on the bed. "Let's get back to reading," he mumbled quietly. Hermione glared at him, but turned back to the diary anyhow and began to read again.
My visions of Lightning Bolt keep getting clearer and clearer. I don't think it's safe for me anymore to write them in this diary, and I don't wish to put too many charms on it, or it might confuse it's powers, so I decided that I'm going to record them in a journal.
Eventually, when I think my visions are clear, and I've figured out their meanings, I'll give the journal in custody to someone I trust, and hope that, whoever I choose to give it to, will know what to do with it when the time comes.
"Who could she have given it to?" Ron asked out loud. "Do you think she even finished it?"
Hermione shrugged. "I'm sure she finished it, because she was already getting to something at this point, but I'm not sure who she would have given it to," she told him. "Definitely none of the Marauders, though," she finished with certainty.
Harry agreed with her. "Maybe it was Jenna," he supplied helpfully.
"Yeah, you're probably right," she told him. "Should we go talk to Dumbledore?" She inquired. Maybe the ancient mad wizard would know if she had it, and where she was now.
"Maybe it's best," Harry replied, and, without another word, headed for the door, followed by Ron and Hermione. He had no idea how they all three managed to escape the insane stalkers, or Kevin's insane attempts at being a bodyguard, but, sooner than they expected, they found themselves in Dumbledore's office, asking him if he knew anything at all about a journal that Lily wrote.
"Yes," he answered. "I believe she finished it right before graduation. She offered to give it to me, but I refused," he told them, and in explanation added, "a Seer should never know what another Seer sees."
"So who has it?" Harry asked. Somehow, he was certain that he would know.
"The only person who knew everything about her visions," he replied truthfully. All three knew who he was talking about, but only Hermione dared speak the name.
"Jenna."
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed.
"Where is she?" Harry inquired again, certain once more that the headmaster had the answer to that to.
"In Hogsmeade," he told them simply. "She works in the small library off the main road, I believe Miss Granger is familiar with it," he said, his eyes twinkling at Hermione.
She nodded, and, a short time later, they exited the office, and stopped in front of the statue of the Griffin.
"This is strange," Hermione pointed out loud, "I know everybody in that library," neither of the boys doubted that, "but I've never spoken to anyone called Jenna," she told them. "She must have changed her name."
Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, next week we'll go check it out," he told her quietly, when they noticed that several of the students out in Hogsmeade were now coming back.
They didn't know what divinity was against them, but when they saw Ginny walking and talking civilly with Draco Malfoy, they had to petrify Ron to keep him from slaughtering the blond.
The two spoke shortly, and, right before Malfoy turned around to go to the Slytherin dungeons, they saw him pull out a rolled parchment from his robes and hand it to Ginny. Hermione recognised that parchment immediately. Levitating Ron so that they could get him easily back to the Common Room, Hermione went to Ginny.
"Is it working?" She asked in way of greeting. Ginny looked back at her, clutching the parchment between her hands as tightly as she dared, while being careful of not ruining it.
She gave Hermione a nervous smile and looked down at the paper in her hands. "I don't know," she answered truthfully, "but I'll find out when I've read," she finished with a wide grin.
Hermione smiled at her, and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Let me know," she said simply as they quietly headed back to the Gryffindor tower. Once there, Ginny dashed up the stairs for the sixth year girl's dormitory with only a passing word of salutation to her friends, and, once there, threw herself on her bed, still clutching the paper as though it were her anchor to life.
Carefully, she unrolled the parchment, and quickly read the short missive. Jumping out of bed she ran to her desk and squiggled her reply as quickly as she could, and dashed right back out of her dorm room, making a wild run for the lake.
Malfoy was there waiting for her, as he'd said in his brief letter. The note, though at first glance, to anyone might have seemed like an unimportant question, she knew very well that it wasn't. He'd asked her if she thought that the family that he'd come from, its name, and its power, would haunt him forever. She handed the letter over with a simple, "Here."
Now, as she watched him unroll the parchment right there before her eyes, she had a strange feeling of deja-vu when her heart began to thump so loudly in its cage she thought he could hear it. It was just like when she'd given him her letter on the Hogwarts Express, when she thought he wouldn't take it, yet in the end he did. Now her heart was doing the same mad tu-thumping it did back that day.
She watched speechless as he read the single sentence that replied his inquisition. Maybe it had been stupid of her to answer so simply, it might have seemed as though she thought his question might have been stupid to begin with. And maybe she shouldn't have rushed out the way she did, but let him think that she'd given this question a lot of thought, but instead she'd done everything by impulse, and now, she couldn't help but regret it.
He kept on staring at the paper as though trying to memorise the simple seven words. He read them over and over again. Only if you let them haunt you. That had been her reply. To her, everything was a question of will. Nothing would ever be able to bother her, if she didn't let it, but…could he be the same?
Wordlessly, he began to head back to the castle.
Oh, no, he's leaving, I made him mad! Come on, Ginny! Stop him! Say something! Anything! But all she managed to get out was a desperate cry of "Malfoy!"
He stopped in his track turning halfway so that she could see his profile. "The name's Draco," he corrected her, and continued on his way.
Ginny watched him go, an inevitable happy grin beginning to spread on her face. Maybe letting her instincts drive her hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
°*°
Harry and Hermione worked amongst themselves in their Potions assignment inside Snape's classroom, since Ron had dragged his assigned partner away from them and taken station next to Malfoy as to be able to threaten him away from his sister. His best friends kept sending him imploring glances, asking him to forget about it and leave the Slytherin alone, but, as always, Ron was a thick pig headed prat.
In any case, they both found it a lot easier to work without the redhead, as there was a lot less goofing off. They were actually the first ones to finish the assignment, and had done it all perfectly. However, Snape being Snape, he couldn't accept this from Harry.
"You shall serve detention with me today, Potter, for making your partner do everything in your place," he commended haughtily.
"You can't do that," Harry hissed back, saying that he'd done just as much as Hermione.
"That's right, sir, Harry and I worked on this in equal parts," Hermione put in trying to sound objective, and not like she was trying to protect her friend.
"If you wish to cover for him, Miss Granger, you may serve detention with him as well," he answered sharply, letting her, and everyone else, know that she really didn't have a choice in the matter.
Just that moment Dumbledore made his presence known by clearing his throat. The Potions master seemed startled and put off by this, instantly taking a defensive stance. "May I speak with you for a moment, Severus?" He asked quietly, and Snape followed him wordlessly into his own office. He sat in his own desk, which should have made him feel superior, but it did not. Even though Dumbledore was taking up the seat that was usually filled by troublesome students that Snape liked to eat for breakfast, he felt at a definite disadvantage.
"I'm very disappointed with you, Severus," Dumbledore began. That already didn't sound good. "What you just did to Mr. Potter and Miss Granger was very wrong, and a very definite abuse of power on your part," he expressed quietly.
Snape being Snape, he kept a cool head. "I don't see why, Albus," he started, condescendingly. "Potter can't boil water, much less obtain a perfect potion like what he had before him. I think it was rather obvious that Granger did all the work there," he finished in a monotone.
"Do you have proof?" The older man asked simply, and Snape stayed quiet. Dumbledore only looked at him, his eyes dim, missing their usual twinkle. Finally, he stood to leave, and Snape followed suit. "Watch yourself, Severus," he warned as he reached for the doorknob. "Abusing your powers will take you to very dark paths."
And with that he left, leaving Snape to stare at the spot he'd occupied seconds earlier.
°*°
That evening, in detention, Snape had given Harry and Hermione separate potions to brew, placed them at opposite sides of the classroom, and watched both with a critical eye as to make sure that they wouldn't communicate with the other. They didn't. And both potions were brewed well. Hermione's was perfect, as always, but, this time, Harry's went quite close.
Having finished their assignment, and still at opposite ends of the classroom, both Gryffindors watched the head of Slytherin house, waiting for him to dismiss them. Stepping in the middle of an isle between them he gestured with his hands for them to leave, wordlessly. Just as wordlessly they gathered their things and moved toward each other. As Hermione was about to pass by him, she bumped shoulders with Snape, and dropped her books in surprise.
Oh, no! She still had Lily's diary with her! Dropping down to the floor to pick her things up like a criminal who spilled the loot on the street during an escape she gave Snape every indication for him to butt in.
"Show your books, Miss Granger," he ordered simply. She turned to look at Harry, who seemed just as horrified as she was, but handed all her books to him anyway. She hoped against hope that he'd get bored of all her tomes before reaching the diary. Unfortunately, he didn't, and actually went straight for it. Opening to the first page, they found that he'd been trying to hold back the surprise at reading the name written on it. He then went to the page that Hermione had marked. He read the date out loud, and, out loud as well, he actually began to read the entry.
"Voldemort's attacks are getting worse. Several Muggleborns were attacked all over the world, and he's getting more followers. Again, my worries lie with Severus," he paused at this, interrupting his flat monotone, maybe trying to get over the shock that she'd written of him. "At lunch, when I looked over at the Slytherin section I had another one of my visions. The same one I'd had at the ball. It was of the recent past, and so strong that I nearly passed out because of it. James looked like he was about pass out himself with worry for me. I think he's still afraid that my visions would hurt me somehow," Snape went on. Lily had visions? He'd heard the Marauders say something of the sort, but he'd never believed any of their crap.
"What I saw was horrible, and even worse was the knowledge that Severus had put himself through it just a short time prior. I saw him, kneeling before the Dark Lord, screaming in pain as Voldemort placed his wand on his arm, and, with an incantation, made black, bloody ink ooze into his arm to form the Dark Mark. The only difference between today and last year's ball was that now I was certain that it had already happened. It was a horrible sight, and even worse was the fact that I could feel everything that he was feeling. The pain, the anguish, but most of all the jealousy and bitterness that pushed him to do it," he read. With a loud sudden snap, he closed the diary.
"How did you get this?" He asked bitterly. He was full of self righteous anger, for which he didn't have a motive or a right to feel, but felt nonetheless.
Harry was the one to answer. "It was in the time capsule that the Diggorinta pulled out in our Remember Garden."
"McGonagall said that Harry's the only one with the right to read it," Hermione added, hoping that it would probe the teacher into handing back the thick leather bound book.
"Then why was it in your hands?" He spat back sharply.
"Harry asked me to read it for him," she replied quickly. "A girl's words should be read by a girl's mouth."
"If you can be called a girl," he taunted.
Hermione just looked at him, not offended by his worthless insult. "I hope that woman's faith was well placed when she wrote those words," she told him quietly, her voice soft.
Snape's eyes widened at this. What else had Lily written of him? "What words?" He asked, maybe a little too quickly, a little too sharply.
Hermione was just as quick to answer. "The ones where she spoke her complete trust in you," she began. "That you would choose your sides with wisdom," she told him finally.
Snape didn't want to hear any of it anymore. He told them to leave with a single, grave, steel word. "Dismissed."
She wasn't intimidated in the least. "The diary, please," she held her hand out for him to place the tome in.
"Dismissed," he repeated, his tone as sharp as before, giving no indication of having the intention to return it.
"The diary," Hermione repeated, her voice rising slightly in anger. He threw it at her face, but she'd been expecting it, and blocked accordingly.
"Dismissed!" He shouted one last time, and, finally, without any need of further prodding, they walked silently out of the cold, empty classroom, leaving the man by himself, alone with thoughts of the past.
To be continued.
Author's ramblings: All in all, I'm not too happy about this chapter, but I'm not really disappointed either, it's one of those so and so chapters, if you will. Reading it now I realize that it's pretty weird because I wrote it before reading book 5. Anyway, if you have any comments, constructive critique, flames, contact me at Robbygal@hotmail.com. Go ahead, I'll have a BBQ. Or you could just leave a review.
Thank you for reading
Pearl
Aka Roberta