FIC: Inevitable 51: Priorities
Mar. 6th, 2006 08:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mhalachaiInevitable Fifty-One: Priorities
by Mhalachai
Note: This chapter is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iamabee_buzz, who was feeling kinda bummed.
Note2: Feed my addiction. Tell me one thing you like about Inevitable. Scene, character, phrase, anything. Please :)
~~~~~~~
Snape's glare the next morning at breakfast put Harry right off his food. Stomach churning with anxiety and other things, he pushed his eggs around his plate until Hermione leaned over in concern.
"Will you be all right?" she whispered.
Harry dropped his fork. "Yeah," he muttered. "I guess I'm not hungry."
"We have Defence Against the Dark Arts in half an hour, do you blame him?" Ron asked her. His voice sounded strained.
Hermione was unimpressed with the two of them. "We have this class every year!" she hissed. "Just because Professor Snape is teaching the class doesn't mean anything!"
"Except that I'll probably walk out of there with my legs on backwards?" Harry stood up. "I'm going to go for a walk, see you in class. And no, I will not be late," he said quickly, before Hermione could open her mouth. Turning his back on the head table, Harry walked out of the Great Hall as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the heads turning to watch him.
He had no idea where he was going, only that he was about five minutes away from a panic attack. It's only Snape! He tried to tell himself. He won't kill me, Dumbledore wouldn't let him! Somehow, that was small comfort.
"Harry?"
Harry almost tripped over his feet. He looked up to see Luna staring dreamily at him. "Oh, hi."
"You were thinking too hard," Luna said.
"Probably." Harry ran his hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "So, um, how are you?"
Luna tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For what you said the other day."
It had been a busy couple of days, and Harry had no idea what Luna was talking about. "Which part?" he asked, trying to pretend that he knew what she meant.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "For what you said about being my friend."
It was coming back to Harry now, but her phrasing didn't make him feel any better. "Is Michael bothering you again?" he demanded.
Luna shook her head. "Did you hear what Ron and Parvati were fighting about, yesterday?" she said, changing the subject.
"No, but--"
"I thought Hermione would have told you," Luna said, leaning back against the stone wall to let a pack of first-year Ravenclaws run into the Great Hall.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Not Ron?"
Luna waved her hand. "You weren't talking to him yesterday, Ginny said so. She didn't know why."
"What else did Ginny tell you?" Harry asked, crossing the hall to lean on the wall beside Luna. Up close like this, he could smell the faint scent of smoky incense in her hair, a captivating spicy smell. He leaned in closer for a better sniff.
"She said that Parvati was gossiping about how many boys Ginny would have dated by the end of the month, and Ron got very upset," Luna said.
"Parvati said what?" Harry demanded. How dare anyone talk about Ginny like that? Harry cast his mind about to who Ginny might date, and felt an unhappy rumble in his chest.
Luna smiled. "You're a good friend to Ginny," she said, pushing away from the wall and backing toward the Great Hall. "Make sure she doesn't study potions too hard." With that, Luna ducked through the Hall doors.
"Potions?" Harry repeated to the empty hall. He didn't know what to make of all that Luna had told him. She does that, Harry mused. Look at me with those huge blue eyes and say things that makes my head spin before she vanishes.
The Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff house ghost, drifted past, chuckling to himself. Harry shook his head and turned toward the stairs. Class started in a little while, and he needed to figure out what he was going to do.
Snape will do whatever he can to torment me, I know that. Any excuse to torment me in front of the class, anything at all. The problem was, Harry didn't know what Snape would do. Try to transfigure him? Hex him?
No, Harry realized as he started mounting a staircase. It's going to be Legilimency, I'll bet anything. That would appeal most to Snape, to dig into Harry's head and humiliate him like that in front of everyone.
Harry's steps slowed as the staircase pulled free of the wall and swung across the tower. The dream he'd had the night before, that he'd been trying to push out of his head ever since he woken up gasping, skin on fire, came back.
Snape cannot see that! The staircase landed against the wall with a thud, and Harry ran. He made it off the stairs and was through a door in a few seconds. He can see anything but that!
Harry barged into an unused classroom and slammed the door shut. He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and almost fell into the first seat he came across. As much as he tried to push it back, the dream seeped back into his head, like smoke through a crack under the door.
Hands, on Harry's skin. Gentle kisses on his shoulder, with just the safe edge of teeth. A wash of silky hair, auburn, over the sheets.
Nathaniel's face, smiling languidly at him.
I can't be dreaming about Nathaniel, I just can't be! Harry dropped his head to the desk with a thud. If Snape sees that--
Harry took a few deep breaths. What was it Anita said? he thought desperately. I need to have my priorities. Always priorities.
Priorities. Harry made himself take a mental step back. Yes, if Snape saw that dream with Nathaniel, he'd mock and humiliate Harry mercilessly.
And if Snape saw the memory of Harry disarming Bellatrix Lestrange and letting the werewolves eat her, Voldemort would find out.
Get your priorities in order! Harry chastised himself. Snape can't know I helped kill Bellatrix. I can't let him know about Damian either, or Anita, or Christoff and Elsa's protection. And especially not about me being clawed up by a werewolf!
Harry stood up and paced down the room. The dust that hung over the unused room tickled his nose as he moved. At the end of the room hung a broken mirror, cracks radiating out from a spot in the centre. Harry stopped and started at his broken reflection in the pieces of glass.
Snape can't know about the Horcruxes here, either, Harry realized, horror growing in his chest. He'll tell Voldemort, and then Voldemort will come here to get them, he'll have to!
Harry touched the mirror's frame. It was just an ordinary looking glass, but it reminded Harry of another mirror he had seen in another unused room at Hogwarts, in his first year.
What was it Dumbledore said about the Mirror of Erised? Harry wracked his brain. It showed you your greatest desire, and that's how Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone!
An idea was growing in Harry's head. He'd let Snape find something that Snape wanted -- something humiliating and real. Behind that memory, he'd bury all thoughts of Anita and werewolves and Damian, and underneath it all he'd put the thoughts of the Horcruxes. If Snape could dig that far into his head, Harry didn't deserve to hold any secrets.
Harry dropped to a crouch and buried his head in his hands. Concentrating as he never had before on his Occlumency, Harry piled memory upon memory, leaving the dream with Nathaniel near the top.
He'd wonder why he was having those kinds of dreams about Nathaniel, after he survived Defence Against the Dark Arts. If he survived.
~*~
There was a queue outside of the closed door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom when Harry slipped into the back of the line. He saw Hermione and Ron talking near the door; rather, Hermione seemed to be talking very fast, while Ron glowered at her.
In front of Harry, Neville was nervously fiddling with the strap on his bag. "Everything all right?" Harry asked quietly.
Neville jumped at Harry's words. "Oh, yes," he stuttered. "It's just..."
"Snape," Harry grumbled. He was a lot calmer than he had been at breakfast, but a whole flock of butterflies flew swooping in Quidditch formation in his stomach. "Come on, Neville, you'll do great. You were in the DA, and all that. Even last year, you did excellent."
"Last year it wasn't Snape," Neville pointed out. His bag strap broke open, spilling books and parchment all over the stone floor. As Neville dived to pick things up, Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies burst into laughter.
"Don't mind them," Harry said to Neville as he bent to help gather up Neville's school supplies. Even though his face was a bright red, Neville didn't comment.
The door to the Defence classroom swung open, and Snape stepped out. He peered down his sallow nose at the gathered seventh-year students. When he spotted Harry and Neville on the floor, his lip curled up into a sneer. "Get inside," was all he said.
The students slowly entered the classroom. Snape had imposed his charming personality on the room already. The blinds were drawn over the windows, many lit candles illuminating the room, casting things into shadow. Dozens of new tapestries and portraits graced the walls, picturing people in what Harry supposed were the horrible aftermath of Dark magic attacks.
Unlike previous years, the desks were drawn back into a neat row at the side of the room. "Put your things by the wall," Snape murmured as he swept bat-like toward the front of the room. "I did not tell you to take out your textbooks," he added as Hermione started to remove her book from her overstuffed bag. "Wands only."
Snape reached the front of the room and spun in place, robes whirling around him. Harry was not impressed. Snape surveyed the group of students.
"For the last six years," Snape began silkily, "You have had a series of professors who had... their own agendas." His eyes flickered to Harry, then back to the group. "Frankly, it is surprising any of you managed to pass your OWLs. I certainly do not expect even half of you to pass your NEWTs. Unless you pay close attention."
Snape stalked slowly down the room. "The Dark Arts are infinitely various, always changing and eternal. Fighting Dark magic is similar to battling a many-headed monster. Each time you manage to sever a neck, in its place sprouts a head even more ferocious and far cleverer than before. You are up against the unfixable, the indestructible."
Harry listened to Snape with a growing sense of annoyance and outrage. How can he talk about Dark magic like Hagrid talks about his creatures? he wondered. Like it's his favourite hobby! What was Dumbledore thinking?
"Your defences," Snape continued, becoming slightly more businesslike, "Must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts that you seek to undo. You will need to work extraordinarily hard if you wish to lean to defend yourself against truly Dark wizards." He surveyed the class, a horrid smile breaking out over his face. "I will need a volunteer for a demonstration."
No one moved. Not even Hermione, who was always the first to volunteer for everything.
"Mr. Potter."
"What?" Harry blurted out. He knew it! He just knew this would happen!
"Up here, Potter," Snape spat. "Let's see how much you know."
Harry took a deep breath, making himself settle back into his Occlumency. He pulled his wand out of his sleeve as he stepped out of the pack of students to face Snape, alone, in the empty space on the floor.
"It has come to my attention that no one has ever shown you silent incantations," Snape said. He addressed the class, but he never took his eyes off Harry. "What benefits would a voiceless spell have in a duel?"
Hermione slowly raised her hand. When no one else moved, Snape nodded at her. "If you use a silent incantation, sir, then your opponent will have one less clue to defend himself," she said.
"Copied word for word from last year's textbook," Snape said. "If you do not have to go around shouting spells at the top of your lungs, then you might have a split-second advantage. Not that I expect any of you to be able to channel the force of will and magic that the skill will require--"
While the word was still coming out of his mouth, Snape raised his wand, a fraction of an inch. Harry barely had time to fling himself to the side as a powerful blast flew toward him, hitting the wall behind him with a crash.
"But then, a voiceless spell is not the only skill you will endeavour to learn this year," Snape added, turning all this attention back to Harry. He flung another silent spell at Harry. This time, Harry was ready for it, and he muttered under his breath to fling up a shield charm. The hex shattered off the shield.
Harry thought about trying to fire a jinx back at Snape, when he saw the man aim his wand over Harry's head. Instinctively, Harry ducked and half-turned, to see if Snape was bringing down the wall on him. The half-second of inattention was all Snape needed, and with a powerful magical yank, Harry's wand flew out of his hand.
Wandless, Harry backed up, trying to keep some distance between him and Snape. The professor advanced on Harry, as happy as Harry had ever seen him. "A true opponent will not stop to let you regain your wand if you are disarmed," Snape almost shouted. He raised his wand.
Harry lunged to the side, grabbing the edge of a heavy student desk and putting all his strength into jerking it into the air in front of him. The wood shattered as Snape's silent curse slammed into the surface.
Harry set his jaw. His whole world narrowed down to the fight. He wasn't going to let Snape win. It wasn't going to happen.
Every sense alert, Harry watched Snape for any sign he might be ready to shoot off another curse. The only noise in the room was the low murmurs of students, and the occasional squeal from someone who sounded a lot like Lavender, whenever Snape aimed his wand at Harry.
Desperation was growing, and with it the angry rumble of the beast in Harry's chest. He was thinking less and less like a student, and more like the werewolf he carried within him. He had teeth and nails, and he could rip Snape apart if it came down to that kind of fight.
Harry wasn't fast enough to dodge the next curse. It hit him square in the left shoulder, pain radiating up his arm and into his chest. Heavily, Harry fell against someone. He hadn't realized he was that close to the edge of the room. Looking up, he registered that it was Neville he'd hit, Neville's hands that had caught him as he fell.
Putting his right hand on Neville's arm to balance himself, Harry felt something stiff and long in Neville's sleeve. His wand.
Hearing Snape behind him, Harry hoped that Neville would forgive him. He braced his feet and pushed away from Neville at the same time his fingers fastened onto Neville's wand. Shielding his right hand from Snape's view, Harry flung up his left hand as if to ward off another curse.
It happened so fast that Harry didn't have time to think. As Snape raised his wand, Harry channeled all his desperation and panic into the unfamiliar wand in his hand, and screamed inside his head, ACCIO WAND!.
Neville's wand sent a burning jolt up Harry's arm, as the magic burst forth. Harry's wand flew into his outstretched left hand, and Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
The charm exploded out of Harry's wand, shooting pain through his injured shoulder. Snape's wand flew out of his hand.
The room froze. Harry stood, arm outstretched, wand pointed at Snape for a long moment.
It occurred to him. For a split second, Harry wanted to finish this fight. The wolf wanted to make sure Snape would never hurt him again. It took a disturbing amount of effort for Harry to lower his wand.
Snape glared at him, spots of colour in his pale cheeks. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for removing another student's wand, Potter," he spat. Ignoring the loud outburst from the watching students, he crossed the room and plucked his wand off the antlers of a stuffed jackalope head. "When you are in a fight, you will not be surrounded by an audience!" he roared over the din, silencing the students. "Pair up to practice voiceless spells!"
Around Harry, the students jumped to find a partner. Harry didn't move. His left shoulder burned, and the magic in his right, where he still held Neville's wand, pulsed like a living thing.
Snape looked over Ernie McMillan's head at Harry. "Give Longbottom back his wand, Potter!" Snape barked.
Harry gave Snape one last glare, then turned to Neville. The beast gave an unhappy rumble.
It would not forget this.
~*~
After the longest two hours of Harry's life, class finally ended. Harry was the first person out of the room, hurtling down the hall as fast as he could.
Forty-seven points! Harry fumed, stalking down the corridor. Snape took forty-seven points of Gryffindor for me, all because I was doing things perfectly! Blowing up a desk, ten points! Not having the proper wand position for the silent spell, five points! Bleeding on the floor, two points!
In his rage, Harry had manage to perform a voiceless curse every time. Even Neville had managed to pick it up after a few times. The rest of the class hadn't been so lucky, although Hermione had managed twice before the end of class. Still, Snape hadn't awarded Gryffindor a single point.
Harry rounded a corner, finally letting his steps slow. He walked to the window at the end of the corridor, and looked out onto a perfect Scottish morning.
This is bullshit! Harry fumed. Snape's not really trying to teach us proper defence at all. He's only doing this to pick on me!
The utter unfairness of the whole situation, combined with the pain from his shoulder and the raw edge of adrenaline from two hours of being constantly on guard in case Snape attacked him again, burbled up in Harry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break things. Instead, he reared back and slammed his good fist into the hard stone wall.
The nearby window shuddered with the impact. Harry pulled his hand back to see the blood on his knuckles; he'd torn the skin on his hand. The pain dulled his anger. He was just so tired.
Every fucking year, it's one more thing, he thought morosely. He stared at the blood on the wall for a movement, then shook his head and dragged himself off down the hall. Snape tried to maim me in front of the whole class, then takes points away because I refused to lie down and take it. Everyone will turn on me if they knew Mum's dad was Damian, a vampire. Voldemort will keep on trying to kill me. The only people who treat me like an adult are across the bloody ocean.
My life sucks.
Pushing open the door to the boy's toilet, Harry dropped his bag by the sink and examined his knuckles. They didn't look too bad.
Harry turned on the tap to wash the blood off his hand. He hissed as the cold water hit the scrapes. Then he heard something over the water. Frowning, Harry turned off the water. It was the sound of someone retching.
"Hello?" Harry said, stepping toward the only closed stall door. "Are you okay?"
Whoever it was stopped throwing up, and the stall door slowly opened. Little Reece staggered out. He was pale and shaking and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"What's wrong?" Harry demanded at once. He closed the distance between him and the boy and, ignoring the smell of sick, put his arm around the boy.
"I-- I--" Reece's face went grey, and he stumbled. Harry picked him up bodily, gritting his teeth against the shooting pain in his shoulder, and carried the child over to the sinks. He set Reece down, then transfigured a quill into a cup and filled the cup with water.
"Drink this," Harry ordered. He helped Reece hold the cup to his mouth. The boy took a few swallows as the paleness in his cheeks receded. The boy gasped and leaned his head back against the wall. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Harry asked, pulling out a handkerchief for Reece.
Miserably, Reece shook his head. "We... we had potions," he finally managed. "We had to make something, and I kept feeling sick but I stayed and it got worse and I came up here after class."
Harry got him some more water. Reece drank it alone this time, but his hand was shaking so badly that he sloshed water all over his front.
"Don't tell anyone," Reece whispered as Harry took the cup away.
Harry bit back a sigh. Was he this bad when he was eleven? He really hoped not. "You should go see Madame Pomfrey," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "You might be allergic to something you used today in the potion. If you don't know what it is, this might happen again."
Reece sniffled, then blew his nose loudly. "Okay," he said almost inaudibly.
"And everyone probably at lunch, so they won't see us," Harry said, then regretted mentioning food as Reece paled again. "Let's go."
Their progress was slow, as Reece was rather wobbly on his feet. Even with his injured shoulder, Harry could have carried him faster, but he didn't make the mistake of mentioning that. Reece was probably embarrassed enough that he'd almost passed out on Harry in the bathroom.
As Harry had predicted, the corridors were empty. Madame Pomfrey was examining a large green bottle as Harry and Reece walked into the infirmary. She turned to them instantly. "Well, what have we here?" she asked briskly. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Harry's blood-soaked shoulder, then went to Reece.
Harry squeezed Reece's shoulder reassuringly. "Reece was good enough to come up here with me," he said with a smile.
Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. "Indeed." She gestured toward an empty bed. "Up you go, Mr. Trevelyan. I'll be right with you." She turned and went over to her desk. "Mr. Potter, over here."
"But--" Harry began to protest.
"No arguments!"
Harry shook his head, and helped steady Reece as he climbed into the bed before joining Madame Pomfrey.
"What happened?" she asked, gesturing for Harry to remove his robe.
"Incident in Defence Against the Dark Arts," he said shortly. He ignored the pain as he shrugged out of his robe, then pulled his shirt off over his head.
"And how is your opponent?" she asked, examining the wound. It didn't look as bad as Harry thought it might. It had even stopped bleeding.
"Professor Snape is fine, ma'am," Harry said in a tight voice.
The matron paused for a moment, startled. Then she quickly muttered an incantation. Heat spread over the wound, and Harry hissed as it healed up in a matter of seconds.
"This goes on there twice a day to prevent the muscles from seizing up," she said, handing him a tiny jar of ointment. "And no flying for three days."
"Three days?" Harry protested. "But Quidditch practice! We've got tryouts next week!"
"You are the captain, direct from the stands this weekend," Madame Pomfrey said. "No exceptions."
"Fine," Harry muttered, pulling his bloody shirt back over his head. He stood up to slip into his robe. "Reece just had potions," he said under his breath, his back to the young boy. "He was throwing up in the toilet. He almost passed out."
Madame Pomfrey busied herself with straightening things on her desk. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."
Harry walked down the length of the infirmary, stopping by Reece's bed. "I'll see you later, okay?"
Reece nodded. His eyes were still red, but he was beginning to get a little colour back into his skin. "Thank you," he whispered.
"No need to thank me," Harry said with feeling. "We need to stick together, right?" He patted Reece on the back, and was rewarded with a wan smile.
The air outside the infirmary seemed cooler than before, and Harry drew in a deep breath. Reece was in good hands. It was really too bad that his first potions class had been so horrible. I wonder if Slughorn is any better a teacher than Snape, Harry wondered. He'd have to ask Ginny.
Tucking the little ointment jar into his pocket, Harry turned in the direction of the Great Hall. Lunch was almost over. Even though he had no class in the afternoon, he didn't fancy starving until dinner.
He was halfway down the stairs when he realized that he had been so focused on helping Reece, he had totally put Snape's class out of his head. Harry almost laughed out loud. I guess that was what Anita meant by having priorities.
To Harry's surprise, Hermione and Ron were waiting for him outside the Great Hall. "Are you okay?" Hermione demanded the second Harry stepped into view.
"I'm fine," Harry said. He looked between them. Hermione wore her worried expression, while Ron was grave. "Did something happen?"
Ron made a noise in his throat. "Snape almost killed you in class and you ask that?" he hissed.
Hermione picked up a large wrapped parcel from the floor. "Come on, let's go outside," she ordered.
"But lunch..." Harry began.
"She's got enough to feed a bloody army," Ron cut him off. "We need to talk."
Confused, Harry let himself be guided out of the castle, down by the lake. Hermione magiced a large blanket out on the grass, and began to spread out the food she'd nicked from the Hall.
"What's this all about, then?" Harry asked, watching the Giant Squid wave its tentacles in the sunlight.
"Did you go see Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, voice strained. Her hands shook slightly as she refolded a napkin.
"Hermione..."
"She saw you punch the wall," Ron said. Anger warmed his voice. "What the hell happened today? Why did Snape do that?"
"I went to the infirmary, yeah," Harry said, frowning. "And I don't know why Snape is such an arsehole, today or any other day!" He looked at Hermione. "You followed me after class?"
"Of course I did!" she exclaimed. Harry thought he heard tears in her voice. "You were hurt, I couldn't just let you go!"
"But I'm fine," Harry tried to reassure her. "It's unlikely Snape would actually kill me, I think Voldemort's got that in hand."
"This isn't funny!" Hermione shouted. Ron quickly put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. "This is your life!"
"Hermione..." Harry was at a total loss. He'd never seen Hermione fall apart like this.
Ron stroked her hair with his free hand, murmuring something into her ear that Harry couldn't hear. Hermione closed her eyes, tears trembling on her lashes.
Carefully, Harry crawled across the blanket and carefully touched the back of her hand. When she opened her eyes, he said, "It'll be okay, Hermione, I promise."
"You can't know that," she said.
"Yeah, but it's me," he pointed out. "There is no way I'm going to let Voldemort kill me. Or Snape, either."
"Yeah, the only reason Snape took points off today was because Harry beat him at his own game," Ron told Hermione. "Harry was disarmed, and he still managed to win."
Hermione managed a watery smile. "He was pretty good."
"I can hear you," Harry said in mock seriousness. He met Ron's eyes over Hermione's head. Their fight wasn't over, things were still not so great between them, but Hermione had a very good point. They'd deal with the problems between themselves after they dealt with external threats. "I just wish Snape wasn't so creepy about the subject." He slipped his voice up into a falsetto imitation of Snape. " 'Fighting Dark magic is similar to battling a many-headed monster.' Honestly. It's disturbed."
"But that's sort of like what you said, isn't it?" Hermione asked, sitting away from Ron.
Harry stared. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, in fifth year, in the DA. You said that fighting Dark wizards wasn't just a bunch of spells, it was being quick on your feet and thinking. That's sort of like what Snape was saying."
Harry had no idea how to respond to that. He reached for an apple to try and cover his bewilderment.
"But at least you never tried to blow up another student in DA," Ron said darkly.
"Give me time." Harry pulled off his glasses and tossed them on the blanket. "Thanks for lunch."
Hermione smiled again. "You didn't have a lot at breakfast," she said, a bit flustered.
Harry bit into his apple and smiled wryly. Ron was a lucky guy, to have Hermione.
But did it go the other way? Harry looked out at the lake. Yeah, they argued a lot, but Hermione was always able to hold her own with Ron. Ron knew how smart she was, and how brave and amazing. Maybe Hermione lucked out too.
That just leaves me, Harry thought. In an effort to avoid getting maudlin, he said, "So, Hermione, tell me about Arithmancy."
Hermione frowned. "You don't know anything about Arithmancy."
"We could talk about cheese instead," he said. "Dominoes? Cloud formations? I'm changing the subject."
She shook her head. "You're incorrigible!"
"What's that, there?" Ron asked, pointing up at the sky. Harry squinted, then remembered he had removed his glasses. "Bit late for an owl."
"It's a rather large owl," Hermione said.
Unlike most owls, this one wasn't headed for the castle. It angled down toward the lake, and it soon became apparent that it was headed for the three of them.
Hermione was right. It was one of the largest owls Harry had ever seen. It winged its way to the top of a nearby rock, and glared expectantly at Harry.
"That's an international post owl!" Hermione squealed. "I've never even seen one!"
The owl solemnly held out a thick letter. Harry climbed to his feet and carefully approached the huge bird. "Is that letter for me?" he asked.
The bird clicked its beak impatiently. Harry took the letter, jumping back as the bird shook its wings, then took flight.
"I guess there's no fee on delivery," he muttered. He looked down at the envelope in his hands. His name and the name of the school was written on the front of the letter. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar.
"Who'd be sending you post like that?" Ron asked when Harry got back to the blanket.
Harry turned over the letter. "There's no return address," he said.
"Maybe it's a trick?" Hermione suggested, pulling out her wand.
Harry lifted the envelope to his nose and sniffed. It smelled familiar in ways he couldn't describe. Worry beginning to gnaw at his stomach, Harry ripped open the package. Out slithered several photographs, but Harry was too busy flipping open the letter to see what they were.
Harry! We thought you would forget all about us, so we decided to put together a little care package so you don't get too lonely.
Harry turned to the back page of the thick letter, to see Jason's name scrawled across the bottom. He let out a shaky breath. Jason wouldn't have written like that if anything was wrong, right? Harry prayed.
"Who's it from?" Hermione asked.
"Jason, a guy I met in St. Louis," Harry said distractedly, dropping the letter to his lap and picking up the photos. They appeared to have been taken during his going-away party earlier in the week.
"Wizard?"
"Werewolf." It was only after a minute of intense silence that Harry looked up from the photos. "What?"
"You met a werewolf in St. Louis?" Ron sounded a bit as if he was being strangled.
"Don't be like that," Hermione admonished.
Harry felt his expression grow cold. "Yeah, Ron, I met a werewolf in St. Louis. Several, in fact. Plus some vampires and stuff too." He thrust out a picture of himself, Jason, the twins, Nathaniel, Zane, Cherry and Vivian. "What of it?"
Ron put his hands up. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Too bad." Harry held up another picture. "This is Damian. My vampire grandfather."
Ron winced, at either the words or the tone, Harry wasn't sure. At the same time, Hermione reached out and took the photo from Harry's hand. "He looks an awful lot like pictures of your mother," she said after close examination.
"You think?" Harry snapped.
Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Stop it!" she demanded. "This really isn't funny anymore. Both of you, just grow up!"
She held up the picture for Ron to see. Heart pounding, Harry waited as Ron stared at the picture.
"He's got long hair," Ron said after a minute.
"So does Dumbledore," Harry pointed out.
"Was he a wizard?" Hermione asked.
"No, a Viking."
Hermione's eyes grew wide, and Harry would sense the pile of questions about to come out of her mouth. Surprisingly, Ron beat her to it. "He's not, you know, violent or anything?"
Harry shook his head emphatically.
"What's he like?" Hermione asked.
Harry took back the picture from her and collected them all into a pile beside the letter. As intensely curious as he was about what Jason had written, and why, he knew he needed to fix this thing with Ron immediately. Like with Hagrid or Remus, Ron would be able to see past the rumours to the person, but Harry needed that to be sooner, rather than later.
Leaning forward, Harry quickly began to tell Ron and Hermione about his first meeting with Damian at Anita's house, over a month ago. As long as he avoided talking about being clawed up by a werewolf, he would probably be safe.
Probably.
...to be continued
by Mhalachai
Note: This chapter is for
iamabee_buzz, who was feeling kinda bummed. Note2: Feed my addiction. Tell me one thing you like about Inevitable. Scene, character, phrase, anything. Please :)
Snape's glare the next morning at breakfast put Harry right off his food. Stomach churning with anxiety and other things, he pushed his eggs around his plate until Hermione leaned over in concern.
"Will you be all right?" she whispered.
Harry dropped his fork. "Yeah," he muttered. "I guess I'm not hungry."
"We have Defence Against the Dark Arts in half an hour, do you blame him?" Ron asked her. His voice sounded strained.
Hermione was unimpressed with the two of them. "We have this class every year!" she hissed. "Just because Professor Snape is teaching the class doesn't mean anything!"
"Except that I'll probably walk out of there with my legs on backwards?" Harry stood up. "I'm going to go for a walk, see you in class. And no, I will not be late," he said quickly, before Hermione could open her mouth. Turning his back on the head table, Harry walked out of the Great Hall as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the heads turning to watch him.
He had no idea where he was going, only that he was about five minutes away from a panic attack. It's only Snape! He tried to tell himself. He won't kill me, Dumbledore wouldn't let him! Somehow, that was small comfort.
"Harry?"
Harry almost tripped over his feet. He looked up to see Luna staring dreamily at him. "Oh, hi."
"You were thinking too hard," Luna said.
"Probably." Harry ran his hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "So, um, how are you?"
Luna tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For what you said the other day."
It had been a busy couple of days, and Harry had no idea what Luna was talking about. "Which part?" he asked, trying to pretend that he knew what she meant.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "For what you said about being my friend."
It was coming back to Harry now, but her phrasing didn't make him feel any better. "Is Michael bothering you again?" he demanded.
Luna shook her head. "Did you hear what Ron and Parvati were fighting about, yesterday?" she said, changing the subject.
"No, but--"
"I thought Hermione would have told you," Luna said, leaning back against the stone wall to let a pack of first-year Ravenclaws run into the Great Hall.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Not Ron?"
Luna waved her hand. "You weren't talking to him yesterday, Ginny said so. She didn't know why."
"What else did Ginny tell you?" Harry asked, crossing the hall to lean on the wall beside Luna. Up close like this, he could smell the faint scent of smoky incense in her hair, a captivating spicy smell. He leaned in closer for a better sniff.
"She said that Parvati was gossiping about how many boys Ginny would have dated by the end of the month, and Ron got very upset," Luna said.
"Parvati said what?" Harry demanded. How dare anyone talk about Ginny like that? Harry cast his mind about to who Ginny might date, and felt an unhappy rumble in his chest.
Luna smiled. "You're a good friend to Ginny," she said, pushing away from the wall and backing toward the Great Hall. "Make sure she doesn't study potions too hard." With that, Luna ducked through the Hall doors.
"Potions?" Harry repeated to the empty hall. He didn't know what to make of all that Luna had told him. She does that, Harry mused. Look at me with those huge blue eyes and say things that makes my head spin before she vanishes.
The Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff house ghost, drifted past, chuckling to himself. Harry shook his head and turned toward the stairs. Class started in a little while, and he needed to figure out what he was going to do.
Snape will do whatever he can to torment me, I know that. Any excuse to torment me in front of the class, anything at all. The problem was, Harry didn't know what Snape would do. Try to transfigure him? Hex him?
No, Harry realized as he started mounting a staircase. It's going to be Legilimency, I'll bet anything. That would appeal most to Snape, to dig into Harry's head and humiliate him like that in front of everyone.
Harry's steps slowed as the staircase pulled free of the wall and swung across the tower. The dream he'd had the night before, that he'd been trying to push out of his head ever since he woken up gasping, skin on fire, came back.
Snape cannot see that! The staircase landed against the wall with a thud, and Harry ran. He made it off the stairs and was through a door in a few seconds. He can see anything but that!
Harry barged into an unused classroom and slammed the door shut. He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and almost fell into the first seat he came across. As much as he tried to push it back, the dream seeped back into his head, like smoke through a crack under the door.
Hands, on Harry's skin. Gentle kisses on his shoulder, with just the safe edge of teeth. A wash of silky hair, auburn, over the sheets.
Nathaniel's face, smiling languidly at him.
I can't be dreaming about Nathaniel, I just can't be! Harry dropped his head to the desk with a thud. If Snape sees that--
Harry took a few deep breaths. What was it Anita said? he thought desperately. I need to have my priorities. Always priorities.
Priorities. Harry made himself take a mental step back. Yes, if Snape saw that dream with Nathaniel, he'd mock and humiliate Harry mercilessly.
And if Snape saw the memory of Harry disarming Bellatrix Lestrange and letting the werewolves eat her, Voldemort would find out.
Get your priorities in order! Harry chastised himself. Snape can't know I helped kill Bellatrix. I can't let him know about Damian either, or Anita, or Christoff and Elsa's protection. And especially not about me being clawed up by a werewolf!
Harry stood up and paced down the room. The dust that hung over the unused room tickled his nose as he moved. At the end of the room hung a broken mirror, cracks radiating out from a spot in the centre. Harry stopped and started at his broken reflection in the pieces of glass.
Snape can't know about the Horcruxes here, either, Harry realized, horror growing in his chest. He'll tell Voldemort, and then Voldemort will come here to get them, he'll have to!
Harry touched the mirror's frame. It was just an ordinary looking glass, but it reminded Harry of another mirror he had seen in another unused room at Hogwarts, in his first year.
What was it Dumbledore said about the Mirror of Erised? Harry wracked his brain. It showed you your greatest desire, and that's how Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone!
An idea was growing in Harry's head. He'd let Snape find something that Snape wanted -- something humiliating and real. Behind that memory, he'd bury all thoughts of Anita and werewolves and Damian, and underneath it all he'd put the thoughts of the Horcruxes. If Snape could dig that far into his head, Harry didn't deserve to hold any secrets.
Harry dropped to a crouch and buried his head in his hands. Concentrating as he never had before on his Occlumency, Harry piled memory upon memory, leaving the dream with Nathaniel near the top.
He'd wonder why he was having those kinds of dreams about Nathaniel, after he survived Defence Against the Dark Arts. If he survived.
There was a queue outside of the closed door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom when Harry slipped into the back of the line. He saw Hermione and Ron talking near the door; rather, Hermione seemed to be talking very fast, while Ron glowered at her.
In front of Harry, Neville was nervously fiddling with the strap on his bag. "Everything all right?" Harry asked quietly.
Neville jumped at Harry's words. "Oh, yes," he stuttered. "It's just..."
"Snape," Harry grumbled. He was a lot calmer than he had been at breakfast, but a whole flock of butterflies flew swooping in Quidditch formation in his stomach. "Come on, Neville, you'll do great. You were in the DA, and all that. Even last year, you did excellent."
"Last year it wasn't Snape," Neville pointed out. His bag strap broke open, spilling books and parchment all over the stone floor. As Neville dived to pick things up, Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies burst into laughter.
"Don't mind them," Harry said to Neville as he bent to help gather up Neville's school supplies. Even though his face was a bright red, Neville didn't comment.
The door to the Defence classroom swung open, and Snape stepped out. He peered down his sallow nose at the gathered seventh-year students. When he spotted Harry and Neville on the floor, his lip curled up into a sneer. "Get inside," was all he said.
The students slowly entered the classroom. Snape had imposed his charming personality on the room already. The blinds were drawn over the windows, many lit candles illuminating the room, casting things into shadow. Dozens of new tapestries and portraits graced the walls, picturing people in what Harry supposed were the horrible aftermath of Dark magic attacks.
Unlike previous years, the desks were drawn back into a neat row at the side of the room. "Put your things by the wall," Snape murmured as he swept bat-like toward the front of the room. "I did not tell you to take out your textbooks," he added as Hermione started to remove her book from her overstuffed bag. "Wands only."
Snape reached the front of the room and spun in place, robes whirling around him. Harry was not impressed. Snape surveyed the group of students.
"For the last six years," Snape began silkily, "You have had a series of professors who had... their own agendas." His eyes flickered to Harry, then back to the group. "Frankly, it is surprising any of you managed to pass your OWLs. I certainly do not expect even half of you to pass your NEWTs. Unless you pay close attention."
Snape stalked slowly down the room. "The Dark Arts are infinitely various, always changing and eternal. Fighting Dark magic is similar to battling a many-headed monster. Each time you manage to sever a neck, in its place sprouts a head even more ferocious and far cleverer than before. You are up against the unfixable, the indestructible."
Harry listened to Snape with a growing sense of annoyance and outrage. How can he talk about Dark magic like Hagrid talks about his creatures? he wondered. Like it's his favourite hobby! What was Dumbledore thinking?
"Your defences," Snape continued, becoming slightly more businesslike, "Must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts that you seek to undo. You will need to work extraordinarily hard if you wish to lean to defend yourself against truly Dark wizards." He surveyed the class, a horrid smile breaking out over his face. "I will need a volunteer for a demonstration."
No one moved. Not even Hermione, who was always the first to volunteer for everything.
"Mr. Potter."
"What?" Harry blurted out. He knew it! He just knew this would happen!
"Up here, Potter," Snape spat. "Let's see how much you know."
Harry took a deep breath, making himself settle back into his Occlumency. He pulled his wand out of his sleeve as he stepped out of the pack of students to face Snape, alone, in the empty space on the floor.
"It has come to my attention that no one has ever shown you silent incantations," Snape said. He addressed the class, but he never took his eyes off Harry. "What benefits would a voiceless spell have in a duel?"
Hermione slowly raised her hand. When no one else moved, Snape nodded at her. "If you use a silent incantation, sir, then your opponent will have one less clue to defend himself," she said.
"Copied word for word from last year's textbook," Snape said. "If you do not have to go around shouting spells at the top of your lungs, then you might have a split-second advantage. Not that I expect any of you to be able to channel the force of will and magic that the skill will require--"
While the word was still coming out of his mouth, Snape raised his wand, a fraction of an inch. Harry barely had time to fling himself to the side as a powerful blast flew toward him, hitting the wall behind him with a crash.
"But then, a voiceless spell is not the only skill you will endeavour to learn this year," Snape added, turning all this attention back to Harry. He flung another silent spell at Harry. This time, Harry was ready for it, and he muttered under his breath to fling up a shield charm. The hex shattered off the shield.
Harry thought about trying to fire a jinx back at Snape, when he saw the man aim his wand over Harry's head. Instinctively, Harry ducked and half-turned, to see if Snape was bringing down the wall on him. The half-second of inattention was all Snape needed, and with a powerful magical yank, Harry's wand flew out of his hand.
Wandless, Harry backed up, trying to keep some distance between him and Snape. The professor advanced on Harry, as happy as Harry had ever seen him. "A true opponent will not stop to let you regain your wand if you are disarmed," Snape almost shouted. He raised his wand.
Harry lunged to the side, grabbing the edge of a heavy student desk and putting all his strength into jerking it into the air in front of him. The wood shattered as Snape's silent curse slammed into the surface.
Harry set his jaw. His whole world narrowed down to the fight. He wasn't going to let Snape win. It wasn't going to happen.
Every sense alert, Harry watched Snape for any sign he might be ready to shoot off another curse. The only noise in the room was the low murmurs of students, and the occasional squeal from someone who sounded a lot like Lavender, whenever Snape aimed his wand at Harry.
Desperation was growing, and with it the angry rumble of the beast in Harry's chest. He was thinking less and less like a student, and more like the werewolf he carried within him. He had teeth and nails, and he could rip Snape apart if it came down to that kind of fight.
Harry wasn't fast enough to dodge the next curse. It hit him square in the left shoulder, pain radiating up his arm and into his chest. Heavily, Harry fell against someone. He hadn't realized he was that close to the edge of the room. Looking up, he registered that it was Neville he'd hit, Neville's hands that had caught him as he fell.
Putting his right hand on Neville's arm to balance himself, Harry felt something stiff and long in Neville's sleeve. His wand.
Hearing Snape behind him, Harry hoped that Neville would forgive him. He braced his feet and pushed away from Neville at the same time his fingers fastened onto Neville's wand. Shielding his right hand from Snape's view, Harry flung up his left hand as if to ward off another curse.
It happened so fast that Harry didn't have time to think. As Snape raised his wand, Harry channeled all his desperation and panic into the unfamiliar wand in his hand, and screamed inside his head, ACCIO WAND!.
Neville's wand sent a burning jolt up Harry's arm, as the magic burst forth. Harry's wand flew into his outstretched left hand, and Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
The charm exploded out of Harry's wand, shooting pain through his injured shoulder. Snape's wand flew out of his hand.
The room froze. Harry stood, arm outstretched, wand pointed at Snape for a long moment.
It occurred to him. For a split second, Harry wanted to finish this fight. The wolf wanted to make sure Snape would never hurt him again. It took a disturbing amount of effort for Harry to lower his wand.
Snape glared at him, spots of colour in his pale cheeks. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for removing another student's wand, Potter," he spat. Ignoring the loud outburst from the watching students, he crossed the room and plucked his wand off the antlers of a stuffed jackalope head. "When you are in a fight, you will not be surrounded by an audience!" he roared over the din, silencing the students. "Pair up to practice voiceless spells!"
Around Harry, the students jumped to find a partner. Harry didn't move. His left shoulder burned, and the magic in his right, where he still held Neville's wand, pulsed like a living thing.
Snape looked over Ernie McMillan's head at Harry. "Give Longbottom back his wand, Potter!" Snape barked.
Harry gave Snape one last glare, then turned to Neville. The beast gave an unhappy rumble.
It would not forget this.
After the longest two hours of Harry's life, class finally ended. Harry was the first person out of the room, hurtling down the hall as fast as he could.
Forty-seven points! Harry fumed, stalking down the corridor. Snape took forty-seven points of Gryffindor for me, all because I was doing things perfectly! Blowing up a desk, ten points! Not having the proper wand position for the silent spell, five points! Bleeding on the floor, two points!
In his rage, Harry had manage to perform a voiceless curse every time. Even Neville had managed to pick it up after a few times. The rest of the class hadn't been so lucky, although Hermione had managed twice before the end of class. Still, Snape hadn't awarded Gryffindor a single point.
Harry rounded a corner, finally letting his steps slow. He walked to the window at the end of the corridor, and looked out onto a perfect Scottish morning.
This is bullshit! Harry fumed. Snape's not really trying to teach us proper defence at all. He's only doing this to pick on me!
The utter unfairness of the whole situation, combined with the pain from his shoulder and the raw edge of adrenaline from two hours of being constantly on guard in case Snape attacked him again, burbled up in Harry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break things. Instead, he reared back and slammed his good fist into the hard stone wall.
The nearby window shuddered with the impact. Harry pulled his hand back to see the blood on his knuckles; he'd torn the skin on his hand. The pain dulled his anger. He was just so tired.
Every fucking year, it's one more thing, he thought morosely. He stared at the blood on the wall for a movement, then shook his head and dragged himself off down the hall. Snape tried to maim me in front of the whole class, then takes points away because I refused to lie down and take it. Everyone will turn on me if they knew Mum's dad was Damian, a vampire. Voldemort will keep on trying to kill me. The only people who treat me like an adult are across the bloody ocean.
My life sucks.
Pushing open the door to the boy's toilet, Harry dropped his bag by the sink and examined his knuckles. They didn't look too bad.
Harry turned on the tap to wash the blood off his hand. He hissed as the cold water hit the scrapes. Then he heard something over the water. Frowning, Harry turned off the water. It was the sound of someone retching.
"Hello?" Harry said, stepping toward the only closed stall door. "Are you okay?"
Whoever it was stopped throwing up, and the stall door slowly opened. Little Reece staggered out. He was pale and shaking and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"What's wrong?" Harry demanded at once. He closed the distance between him and the boy and, ignoring the smell of sick, put his arm around the boy.
"I-- I--" Reece's face went grey, and he stumbled. Harry picked him up bodily, gritting his teeth against the shooting pain in his shoulder, and carried the child over to the sinks. He set Reece down, then transfigured a quill into a cup and filled the cup with water.
"Drink this," Harry ordered. He helped Reece hold the cup to his mouth. The boy took a few swallows as the paleness in his cheeks receded. The boy gasped and leaned his head back against the wall. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Harry asked, pulling out a handkerchief for Reece.
Miserably, Reece shook his head. "We... we had potions," he finally managed. "We had to make something, and I kept feeling sick but I stayed and it got worse and I came up here after class."
Harry got him some more water. Reece drank it alone this time, but his hand was shaking so badly that he sloshed water all over his front.
"Don't tell anyone," Reece whispered as Harry took the cup away.
Harry bit back a sigh. Was he this bad when he was eleven? He really hoped not. "You should go see Madame Pomfrey," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "You might be allergic to something you used today in the potion. If you don't know what it is, this might happen again."
Reece sniffled, then blew his nose loudly. "Okay," he said almost inaudibly.
"And everyone probably at lunch, so they won't see us," Harry said, then regretted mentioning food as Reece paled again. "Let's go."
Their progress was slow, as Reece was rather wobbly on his feet. Even with his injured shoulder, Harry could have carried him faster, but he didn't make the mistake of mentioning that. Reece was probably embarrassed enough that he'd almost passed out on Harry in the bathroom.
As Harry had predicted, the corridors were empty. Madame Pomfrey was examining a large green bottle as Harry and Reece walked into the infirmary. She turned to them instantly. "Well, what have we here?" she asked briskly. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Harry's blood-soaked shoulder, then went to Reece.
Harry squeezed Reece's shoulder reassuringly. "Reece was good enough to come up here with me," he said with a smile.
Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows. "Indeed." She gestured toward an empty bed. "Up you go, Mr. Trevelyan. I'll be right with you." She turned and went over to her desk. "Mr. Potter, over here."
"But--" Harry began to protest.
"No arguments!"
Harry shook his head, and helped steady Reece as he climbed into the bed before joining Madame Pomfrey.
"What happened?" she asked, gesturing for Harry to remove his robe.
"Incident in Defence Against the Dark Arts," he said shortly. He ignored the pain as he shrugged out of his robe, then pulled his shirt off over his head.
"And how is your opponent?" she asked, examining the wound. It didn't look as bad as Harry thought it might. It had even stopped bleeding.
"Professor Snape is fine, ma'am," Harry said in a tight voice.
The matron paused for a moment, startled. Then she quickly muttered an incantation. Heat spread over the wound, and Harry hissed as it healed up in a matter of seconds.
"This goes on there twice a day to prevent the muscles from seizing up," she said, handing him a tiny jar of ointment. "And no flying for three days."
"Three days?" Harry protested. "But Quidditch practice! We've got tryouts next week!"
"You are the captain, direct from the stands this weekend," Madame Pomfrey said. "No exceptions."
"Fine," Harry muttered, pulling his bloody shirt back over his head. He stood up to slip into his robe. "Reece just had potions," he said under his breath, his back to the young boy. "He was throwing up in the toilet. He almost passed out."
Madame Pomfrey busied herself with straightening things on her desk. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."
Harry walked down the length of the infirmary, stopping by Reece's bed. "I'll see you later, okay?"
Reece nodded. His eyes were still red, but he was beginning to get a little colour back into his skin. "Thank you," he whispered.
"No need to thank me," Harry said with feeling. "We need to stick together, right?" He patted Reece on the back, and was rewarded with a wan smile.
The air outside the infirmary seemed cooler than before, and Harry drew in a deep breath. Reece was in good hands. It was really too bad that his first potions class had been so horrible. I wonder if Slughorn is any better a teacher than Snape, Harry wondered. He'd have to ask Ginny.
Tucking the little ointment jar into his pocket, Harry turned in the direction of the Great Hall. Lunch was almost over. Even though he had no class in the afternoon, he didn't fancy starving until dinner.
He was halfway down the stairs when he realized that he had been so focused on helping Reece, he had totally put Snape's class out of his head. Harry almost laughed out loud. I guess that was what Anita meant by having priorities.
To Harry's surprise, Hermione and Ron were waiting for him outside the Great Hall. "Are you okay?" Hermione demanded the second Harry stepped into view.
"I'm fine," Harry said. He looked between them. Hermione wore her worried expression, while Ron was grave. "Did something happen?"
Ron made a noise in his throat. "Snape almost killed you in class and you ask that?" he hissed.
Hermione picked up a large wrapped parcel from the floor. "Come on, let's go outside," she ordered.
"But lunch..." Harry began.
"She's got enough to feed a bloody army," Ron cut him off. "We need to talk."
Confused, Harry let himself be guided out of the castle, down by the lake. Hermione magiced a large blanket out on the grass, and began to spread out the food she'd nicked from the Hall.
"What's this all about, then?" Harry asked, watching the Giant Squid wave its tentacles in the sunlight.
"Did you go see Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, voice strained. Her hands shook slightly as she refolded a napkin.
"Hermione..."
"She saw you punch the wall," Ron said. Anger warmed his voice. "What the hell happened today? Why did Snape do that?"
"I went to the infirmary, yeah," Harry said, frowning. "And I don't know why Snape is such an arsehole, today or any other day!" He looked at Hermione. "You followed me after class?"
"Of course I did!" she exclaimed. Harry thought he heard tears in her voice. "You were hurt, I couldn't just let you go!"
"But I'm fine," Harry tried to reassure her. "It's unlikely Snape would actually kill me, I think Voldemort's got that in hand."
"This isn't funny!" Hermione shouted. Ron quickly put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. "This is your life!"
"Hermione..." Harry was at a total loss. He'd never seen Hermione fall apart like this.
Ron stroked her hair with his free hand, murmuring something into her ear that Harry couldn't hear. Hermione closed her eyes, tears trembling on her lashes.
Carefully, Harry crawled across the blanket and carefully touched the back of her hand. When she opened her eyes, he said, "It'll be okay, Hermione, I promise."
"You can't know that," she said.
"Yeah, but it's me," he pointed out. "There is no way I'm going to let Voldemort kill me. Or Snape, either."
"Yeah, the only reason Snape took points off today was because Harry beat him at his own game," Ron told Hermione. "Harry was disarmed, and he still managed to win."
Hermione managed a watery smile. "He was pretty good."
"I can hear you," Harry said in mock seriousness. He met Ron's eyes over Hermione's head. Their fight wasn't over, things were still not so great between them, but Hermione had a very good point. They'd deal with the problems between themselves after they dealt with external threats. "I just wish Snape wasn't so creepy about the subject." He slipped his voice up into a falsetto imitation of Snape. " 'Fighting Dark magic is similar to battling a many-headed monster.' Honestly. It's disturbed."
"But that's sort of like what you said, isn't it?" Hermione asked, sitting away from Ron.
Harry stared. "What are you talking about?"
"You know, in fifth year, in the DA. You said that fighting Dark wizards wasn't just a bunch of spells, it was being quick on your feet and thinking. That's sort of like what Snape was saying."
Harry had no idea how to respond to that. He reached for an apple to try and cover his bewilderment.
"But at least you never tried to blow up another student in DA," Ron said darkly.
"Give me time." Harry pulled off his glasses and tossed them on the blanket. "Thanks for lunch."
Hermione smiled again. "You didn't have a lot at breakfast," she said, a bit flustered.
Harry bit into his apple and smiled wryly. Ron was a lucky guy, to have Hermione.
But did it go the other way? Harry looked out at the lake. Yeah, they argued a lot, but Hermione was always able to hold her own with Ron. Ron knew how smart she was, and how brave and amazing. Maybe Hermione lucked out too.
That just leaves me, Harry thought. In an effort to avoid getting maudlin, he said, "So, Hermione, tell me about Arithmancy."
Hermione frowned. "You don't know anything about Arithmancy."
"We could talk about cheese instead," he said. "Dominoes? Cloud formations? I'm changing the subject."
She shook her head. "You're incorrigible!"
"What's that, there?" Ron asked, pointing up at the sky. Harry squinted, then remembered he had removed his glasses. "Bit late for an owl."
"It's a rather large owl," Hermione said.
Unlike most owls, this one wasn't headed for the castle. It angled down toward the lake, and it soon became apparent that it was headed for the three of them.
Hermione was right. It was one of the largest owls Harry had ever seen. It winged its way to the top of a nearby rock, and glared expectantly at Harry.
"That's an international post owl!" Hermione squealed. "I've never even seen one!"
The owl solemnly held out a thick letter. Harry climbed to his feet and carefully approached the huge bird. "Is that letter for me?" he asked.
The bird clicked its beak impatiently. Harry took the letter, jumping back as the bird shook its wings, then took flight.
"I guess there's no fee on delivery," he muttered. He looked down at the envelope in his hands. His name and the name of the school was written on the front of the letter. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar.
"Who'd be sending you post like that?" Ron asked when Harry got back to the blanket.
Harry turned over the letter. "There's no return address," he said.
"Maybe it's a trick?" Hermione suggested, pulling out her wand.
Harry lifted the envelope to his nose and sniffed. It smelled familiar in ways he couldn't describe. Worry beginning to gnaw at his stomach, Harry ripped open the package. Out slithered several photographs, but Harry was too busy flipping open the letter to see what they were.
Harry! We thought you would forget all about us, so we decided to put together a little care package so you don't get too lonely.
Harry turned to the back page of the thick letter, to see Jason's name scrawled across the bottom. He let out a shaky breath. Jason wouldn't have written like that if anything was wrong, right? Harry prayed.
"Who's it from?" Hermione asked.
"Jason, a guy I met in St. Louis," Harry said distractedly, dropping the letter to his lap and picking up the photos. They appeared to have been taken during his going-away party earlier in the week.
"Wizard?"
"Werewolf." It was only after a minute of intense silence that Harry looked up from the photos. "What?"
"You met a werewolf in St. Louis?" Ron sounded a bit as if he was being strangled.
"Don't be like that," Hermione admonished.
Harry felt his expression grow cold. "Yeah, Ron, I met a werewolf in St. Louis. Several, in fact. Plus some vampires and stuff too." He thrust out a picture of himself, Jason, the twins, Nathaniel, Zane, Cherry and Vivian. "What of it?"
Ron put his hands up. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Too bad." Harry held up another picture. "This is Damian. My vampire grandfather."
Ron winced, at either the words or the tone, Harry wasn't sure. At the same time, Hermione reached out and took the photo from Harry's hand. "He looks an awful lot like pictures of your mother," she said after close examination.
"You think?" Harry snapped.
Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Stop it!" she demanded. "This really isn't funny anymore. Both of you, just grow up!"
She held up the picture for Ron to see. Heart pounding, Harry waited as Ron stared at the picture.
"He's got long hair," Ron said after a minute.
"So does Dumbledore," Harry pointed out.
"Was he a wizard?" Hermione asked.
"No, a Viking."
Hermione's eyes grew wide, and Harry would sense the pile of questions about to come out of her mouth. Surprisingly, Ron beat her to it. "He's not, you know, violent or anything?"
Harry shook his head emphatically.
"What's he like?" Hermione asked.
Harry took back the picture from her and collected them all into a pile beside the letter. As intensely curious as he was about what Jason had written, and why, he knew he needed to fix this thing with Ron immediately. Like with Hagrid or Remus, Ron would be able to see past the rumours to the person, but Harry needed that to be sooner, rather than later.
Leaning forward, Harry quickly began to tell Ron and Hermione about his first meeting with Damian at Anita's house, over a month ago. As long as he avoided talking about being clawed up by a werewolf, he would probably be safe.
Probably.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
I love this story!
Date: 2006-03-07 05:20 am (UTC)Re: I love this story!
Date: 2006-03-07 05:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:25 am (UTC)Quick note;
In his rage, Harry had manage to perform a wandless curse every time.
Voiceless maybe?
I love the Reece scene, Harry with the little one's is such a weakness of mine.
And Yay for Trio friendship, no matter how shaky at the moment.
Letter from Jason! Jason! I wonder if there is any good Jason fic out there or if most AB fic revolves around Anita...
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Date: 2006-03-07 05:47 am (UTC)D/oh! Fixed, thanks. Yeah, that would certainly change the meaning :P
While I do think it's odd that Snape used a curse that would cause actual bodily harm to a student
Who said that's what he did? The curse was supposed to hurt something... and if Harry had been as human as he claims, it wouldn't have done a thing. (Nope, I'm not retconning at all) But yeah, Dumbledore is going to come down like a tonne of angry bricks on Snape. Like maiming students in class? Uncool!
Oh, Harry and Reece. Too cute for words, but not in that annoying gag-me way.
I, too, have much Jason love. Mmm, Jason.
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Date: 2006-03-07 05:41 am (UTC)-Sonya
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Date: 2006-03-07 07:40 am (UTC)Frankly, I'm on the "Snape is somehow slightly redeemable" train. Not all the way, but a bit.
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Date: 2006-03-07 05:54 am (UTC)Anyway...I'm replying to the need to be feed so here it is: Not too shabby. I like the story. You've got great details, good character interaction and a plot! *gasp* However, you seem to have lost your focus when you got Harry back to school. Hopeful this will be resolved soon? I like the Reese character, it's a nice touch plus it give Harry someone he can look after and relate to.
So, probably not the review you would like, but I promise I'll try better next time.
Keep up the good work, it's being read, even if we readers suck at reviewing. :)
~Michelle
?
Date: 2006-03-07 06:12 am (UTC)Re: ?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-03-07 06:19 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: ?
From:Re: ?
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 05:54 am (UTC)One thing I love about this story? Just one? Hmm. The characterization. You are incredibly good with characterization. Anita especially. I adore your Anita.
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:15 am (UTC)I love Anita too. She's such a delicate flower.
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Date: 2006-03-07 05:58 am (UTC)You make me like Harry and see him as a real person. Not that I hated him before, but I made it through the first HP book and was left thinking 'great worldbuilding, characters o'cardboard' and never got around to reading the rest of the series.
You've got the balance of power between the two worlds right. Too many crossovers let one world run roughshod over the other. Here, the strengths and weaknesses of both sides intermesh nicely.
Anita's behaving exactly right- overprotective and bitchy and just barely keeping her temper in, yet still sympathetic.
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Date: 2006-03-07 07:00 am (UTC)Too many crossovers let one world run roughshod over the other
I always say, that's uncool. With my crossovers, I just say that the crossover elements are assumed, and go from there. Also, I ignore some things that make this hard, and blast others out of the water (I'm thinking about the Wizarding world's take on Obliviating muggles, compared with Anita's world of Magical Interference as a felony. Anything can work if you go into it with enough enthusiasm.
And we all loves Anita ;)
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 06:32 am (UTC)And yes, character growth is aces. I always consider a chapter without character growth (or regression, in certain cases) to be a wasted chapter.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 06:26 am (UTC)preciouscanon.No matter what they say, Nathaniel in Harry's dreams = hawt. Even more so for the *real* reason. Whereby hawt we mean really, really weird.
If the story clocks in at under 100 chapters (!!!!) I'll be surprised. God, how I can go on.
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:47 am (UTC)I definately can't wait until it's just Harry and Remus, can't wait to see the convo on that one.
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Date: 2006-03-07 07:19 am (UTC)Dumbledore: You tried to kill Harry Potter! DIDN'T WE HAVE THIS CONVERSATION?????
Snape: Hey, that curse only does bad things to ***EXCISED FOR PLOT POINT OMG!!!11eleventy-one!!* and how was I to know Harry was one? SO NOT MY FAULT.
McGonagall: *pours self more Scotch in the corner*
(no subject)
From:wow
Date: 2006-03-07 07:12 am (UTC)Re: wow
Date: 2006-03-07 07:52 am (UTC)The Nathaniel dream is new -- more on that next chapter.
Re: inevitable
Date: 2006-03-07 07:31 am (UTC)Just a lurker who wants to say--I love what you've done with HP. When I first came across your story from Multifaceted, I stayed up all night reading through chapter 47--and that was several months ago! "Inevitable" was my first exposure to the "Anita Blake" verse, and you have a terrific grasp of the characters in both series.
It's my firm belief that YOU should be the one writing Book 7 of HP! ^.~
Harry is more mature in your story. He swears, he's pissed off, he's half werewolf, plus has vampire heritage--which just makes him that much cooler. And he has problems with Ron and school, which seems much more realistic at that age than the way JK Rowling portrays it. After reading your characterization of Harry, everything else seems trite.
I love the little touches, how angry "your" Harry is with the world. I think the canon story arc misses out on that potential. Why shouldn't Harry be pissed off?! Also, the issues with Ron and others being afraid of vampires/werewolves is a great way to address serious issues of racism. I'm glad you don't shy away from these difficult subjects, but instead embrace them and make a riveting story.
Also--I like the tension between Harry and Luna, that's something rarely seen. Very unorthodox, very intriguing. In addition, I highly enjoy
Harry's hypersensitivity to smell--it's really amusing to read! The one thing that's completely missing from JKR's canon is real sexual tension. Not awkward pubescence, but serious lust--which is actually, thankfully, present in "Inevitable"!
I only have two requests. 1: Updates!!! Don't leave us hanging! 2: Harry needs to get some. It doesn't have to be lewd or restricted access or anything. A decent game of tonsil hockey would suffice. ^.~
Thanks for a great story--keep it up!!!
~Lauren
Re: inevitable
Date: 2006-03-07 05:31 pm (UTC)The Harry and Luna thing.... Luna's a "safe" area for Harry. He can sniff her all he wants; she doesn't have a crazy older brother who's apt to kill Harry in his sleep. But there's something else going on there too.
1. I'm writing as fast as I can!
2. We'll see. He's Harry. Sex=Angst=Woe=Emo!Harry. Maybe HE should make out with Lavender (she has such bad luck with boys. Poor kid.)
Re: inevitable
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 07:38 am (UTC)For me, the reason I think this is is because there's no tangible tension. We know Harry's not a werewolf and the whole Anita trip to LA is over, so it feels like that part has come to an end. Now, I say this having no idea what you've got planned. I mean, for all I know, Anita is going to burst onto the scene. However, these chapters seem like your version of the HBP. Since we've all read it, there's no tension. Nothing we haven't already seen in the book (especially the whole Ron/Harry fighting thing and the Harry/Snape tension). I tend to avoid stories that rewrite books/shows/movies, but have kept up with this solely because I have faith that in your writing.
Now I don't mean to imply that I'm not enjoying the fic, I am. It is brilliantly written, and the characters voices are incredibly accurate. I just miss the action, the tension, and the excitement we felt when he was in St Louis.
I didn't upset you, did I?
*crying in mah beer.... k not rly*
Date: 2006-03-07 07:46 am (UTC)It's possible that from the stand point of some, I'm taking too long in getting there, but this whole story from start to finish is Harry's story. We may be seeing Anita's POV in all of this (or were/will), but it's about Harry. Sort of like how Serenity was about River, through Mal's eyes. Yes, I just compared myself with Joss -- please forgive me, it's late here.
Meh. Another peril of writing on the Internet machine is I can go on at length and not have to worry about answering to a publisher.
Let's just say that everything I'm doing (yes, everything) has a plot point later in the story. Can we consider this the bridge?
Re: *crying in mah beer.... k not rly*
From:Re: *crying in mah beer.... k not rly*
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 01:16 pm (UTC)The lesson was very typical of him. His methods may have been unconventional, but Harry & Neville of all people manage to learn something, even though they'd never admit it.
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:03 pm (UTC)I think I'm liking the new and improved Neville. He's also got something to prove to the world, just not angrily as Harry.
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Date: 2006-03-07 01:17 pm (UTC)awww, little reece! were they brewing something with aconite or something? muffin. harry is so good with him. the full will be interesting.
and i'm glad that harry is going to tell ron and hermione *something* about his summer. my vote is that hermione is totally going to figure something out.
and dreaming about nathaniel? i certainly can't blame him!
fab job, really. i look forward to the next one.
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:07 pm (UTC)There is little doubt. If a 13 year old Hermione can figure out that Lupin was a werewolf after an essay, a 17-year-old Hermione will put "i met werewolves" with "I have a vampire grandfather" and come up with "I am keeping secrets!!!" Well, that and the smelling of everyone.
Thanks :)
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Date: 2006-03-07 01:20 pm (UTC)Okay, what did I like in this chapter...The international Owl post. Very clever. The scene in the bathroom with Reece. It will take Reece a long time to get used to the lack of physical affection at Hogwarts. It's good he has Harry. I like Harry hitting the wall. The brief glimpses of the dream. All great.
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Date: 2006-03-07 06:00 pm (UTC)Reece will be a source of tribulation for our dear Harry. And Harry's not able (or even willing) to step back. He was acting Alpha to werewolves older than him in St. Louis. He's not going to stop on a little sprite of a boy, who needs him.
Also, I was thinking about interesting comparisons between Harry and Reece. Reece, from what we've seen, came from a stable home with a solid pack that protected him. Harry came from a place where no one gave a damn about him. Carrying that forward, Harry wasn't ever looking for help, because he never expected it. Reece is, and latched on to Harry as he's the only one who is able to give Reece support (plus the whole werewolf thing)
And yes, I'm putting too much thought into my minor characters.
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From:My reason why
Date: 2006-03-07 01:39 pm (UTC)I LOVE the way the characters in this story DON'T always do what I want them to do.. (does that make sense) they are true to themselves not my desires for easy conflict resolutions.
This story just gets better and better..
OH man I feel so sorry for Reece.. poor guy...
and Snape... what a jerk... but I like how Harry defended himself in a very "Harry" kind of way.. adapt and overcome
Thank goodness Ron is coming around, I like the ginger idiot..
Re: My reason why
Date: 2006-03-07 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 02:24 pm (UTC)and the Nathaniel dream! Wow didn't see that one coming!
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Date: 2006-03-07 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 04:00 pm (UTC)fancy that.
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Date: 2006-03-07 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 08:37 pm (UTC)Flawed characters are the best. They're the only ones who make any sense these days.
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 03:13 pm (UTC)do you have any idea on how long this fic will be? as in, how many chapters?
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Date: 2006-03-07 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-07 03:14 pm (UTC)The Nathaniel dream was love, it made me happy! Poor Harry, nothing is ever really 'normal' for him, is it? I was glad to see that you threw in some of the St. Louis bunch, even if it was just a letter and pictures. This way Hermione and Ron actually get to see the people and hear the stories...and it seems as if Ron is coming around, which is good! Hopefully Hermione can talk some more sense into that thick skull of his.
This story just keeps getting better (ohhh...SNAPE! He's such a butthole!) and better, and really, my favourite thing about it is original yet still in character your characters are. You've managed to keep them true to canon, and yet still put in your own little personality twist, sorta. Does that make sense?? =D
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Date: 2006-03-07 08:47 pm (UTC)It totally makes sense! It means I'm doing something right!
Thanks so much
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Date: 2006-03-07 03:18 pm (UTC)so. okay, i discovered Inevitable around the time the 20th chapter had been written, and then i lost it again until a few weeks ago. i went back and read every chapter over, and man... this story gets better every time i read it. the characters, the anger. seriously, regardless of the fact that there's so much supernatural stuff, it actually has the feeling of The Real over it all, like you've brought everything to life a lot more than JKR ever could. i adore your Harry. i love that he's homesick for St. Louis, that he's having dreams of Nathaniel (oooooh can't wait for more info on that!) and that Ron is still being such a prick about everything. i can't wait to see if you ever purposefully tell Ron and Hermione about Harry's furry side. i actually really wish that Harry would transform, although i know that sounds kind of awful. but i love little Reece, and i hope he starts to pop up even more. i wish Harry could be with him on his moons, so that the little guy wasn't alone. i mean, isn't that the big thing about Lupin not controlling his wolf? that he has no pack?
ee. sorry for the rambling. i just... i adore this story. i actually have been checking every day since i got to chapter 50. and look! 51 today! seriously? i kind of wanted Harry to just rush Snape during DADA. and what's going on with Luna, eh?
you're writing such an intriguing story, i could probably go on with the questioning and speculations and wishing for a while longer. but i won't because hopefully the time that you spend NOT reading this, you'll spend writing chapter 52!
*hugs and steals a smooch*
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Date: 2006-03-07 09:02 pm (UTC)i can't wait to see if you ever purposefully tell Ron and Hermione about Harry's furry side.
Me either. Things with these guys change so often. But it's been a few days, right? And he hasn't told them yet. So no matter what he does now, Ron's going to be upset with him.
i mean, isn't that the big thing about Lupin not controlling his wolf? that he has no pack?
Not sure if that's from my story or elsewhere, but it is important, yet. Remus got the short end of the stick. We'll expand on this theme more, around the full moon.
Luna? I have no idea :P
aw, thanks!
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Date: 2006-03-07 03:23 pm (UTC)Muchly awesome, I must say. DADA was a fabulous scene - I never saw Neville's wand coming. I bet Snape just about had an aneurism when Harry bested him. *big grin*
And I have this strangely compelling need to actually see the pictures that Jason sent him in the mail...that is one of the minor inconveniences of fiction. Maybe someone can go fanart crazy. :)
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Date: 2006-03-07 08:43 pm (UTC)Neville's wand wasn't only there to save Harry's ass. It's also a plot point. Or is that a red herring? I'm never sure with my terminology.
I know what you mean about the pix. If only I could draw. I'll try and describe them (in brief) next chapter.
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Date: 2006-03-07 04:15 pm (UTC)The scen in DADA was fabulous absolutely fabulous. I was just waiting for Harry to give in to his beast and rip Snape apart.
The way Harry took care of Reece was so adorable like he had adopted the younger wolf like a brother.
What I found to be the best part of this chapter was absolutely the letter from St Louis. I have been waiting for something like that for awhile and can't wait to hear what Jason has to say.
What was the dream with Nathaniel in it about by the way? Are you saying that Harry might be bi. If so how the hell is Ron going to react. I can picture it now: Ron turning red and stammering slowly backing away before running as fast as he can from Harry screaming about his friend having lost his mind over the summer. There might even be some threats towards those bloody Americans in general.
Can't wait for more. Keep up the good work: )
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Date: 2006-03-07 08:56 pm (UTC)What was the dream with Nathaniel in it about by the way?
I can't say. No, really, it's imperative that this remains an open question. Srsly.
Actually, I wonder about the Wizarding World's take on homosexuality. I know the fandom has made it much more open, but let's review: Their attitiudes about class (blood) are almost Victorian. There doesn't seem to be a lot of social progress. I suspect that, really, those non-heterosexuals might have a difficult time of it.
No Remus/Siruis jokes, please :)
(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2006-03-07 09:14 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From:Victorian wizards
From:On pins and needles waiting for every chapter!
Date: 2006-03-07 04:45 pm (UTC)Poor Reese. I'm glad he has Harry to watch out for him.
Re: On pins and needles waiting for every chapter!
Date: 2006-03-07 04:48 pm (UTC)Re: On pins and needles waiting for every chapter!
From: