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mhalachaiInevitable Fifty-Two: Being Right Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Only the story is my own.
Rating: PG-13ish
Note: The last day of the first week! Time starts moving faster next chapter, so enjoy the cheerful and leisurely ride! Okay, no.
Previous parts here
~~~~~~~
Harry skipped dinner. He didn't want to see Snape again, not even across the crowded Hall. Instead, he went up to the deserted Gryffindor common room to read his Animagus book.
I'm going to be an Animagus if it kills me, he thought grimly as he settled into an armchair. Although he couldn't quite put it into words, he needed to do something that Snape couldn't, and Snape wasn't an Animagus. Harry needed to prove to himself that he wasn't the incompetent child he'd acted like in class this morning.
Losing my wand, just like with Bellatrix Lestrange, he remembered, a wave of hot shame running down his body. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to block out the memory of Anita's screaming. You'd think I'd learn!
The crackling sound of the fire brought him back. He took several deep breaths, then lowered his eyes to the book. If he became an Animagus, then if he lost his wand, he wouldn't be totally defenseless. What was it Jason said, before we went to the Lupanar that first night? That I wasn't prepared for dealing with a fight with claws and teeth aimed for my stomach? Maybe that means the Death Eaters wouldn't be, either.
Which reminded him. Harry looked around the room, to make sure it was empty, then set his book aside and pulled out the letter from Jason. He'd been so wrapped up in the conversation with Hermione and Ron that he hadn't had a chance to see what Jason had sent.
Harry took another sniff of the letter. Even though it was only paper, it carried a tiny hint of an indescribable quality, that warmed Harry down to the tips of his toes. It smelled like home.
Home. What's that? Harry wondered as he carefully unfolded the letter, and began to read.
____________________________________________
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.
Mostly, it's pictures from your party, because we had to leave for England before we could get them developed. But we figured that you could show all your friends over in England how much fun you had this summer. Just forget all that crazy crap.
I made a bunch of people include little notes. They're under the pictures. This is just to show you that I'm not the only one who misses you.
Before I end up sobbing on the page, one last thing: Can you come over for Christmas break? That would be really neat. We'd all like to see you. Except Asher, but he doesn't count. Even Melanie has asked when you were coming back. Which was a whole lot of creepy, now that I think about it.
Tammy Reynolds is arranging us to send this letter by something she calls owl post. Is that the logo or something? The U.S. Postal Service has an eagle as the mascot. I asked her, and she gave this look like I was a total knob.
Harry broke from the letter, laughing hard. He could just imagine the look on Jason's face when he saw the huge postal owl.
The trip back to St. Louis was okay. Anita was in a really foul mood, which was partly leaving you behind, and partly flying when she was exhausted and hung over from donating blood. I didn't lose any body parts, which is always an added bonus. Although she got snippy with the Customs Officials who didn't believe she was a U.S. Marshal. They called the cops and everything, and when the police got there, they were really unimpressed with the airport guys, because they all know Anita. Just general badness.
(This is part of the reason for the letter -- anything to get Anita's mind off being so very angry. Remember what I told you about the difference between Anita being annoyed and her being angry? This is it. It's not pretty.)
I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.... can your pictures do that? I know the ones you had didn't speak, only move. That must be weird, if the person dies, but is still all alive in the pictures.
Come home for Christmas. This is not a request!
Manly hugs and kisses,
Jason
PS: Damian doesn't want to send a note, but he very somberly said you coming home for the holidays was a good idea, something he never does, which is his Viking way of showing affection, I suppose.
____________________________________________
Harry laid down the letter, grinning like a fool. They wanted him to go back to St. Louis for Christmas! They missed him! Then he laughed out loud again. Of course they wanted him. They'd said so before he left, hadn't they? It had been a long three days, for him to be wondering otherwise.
Pushing aside the photographs, Harry dug into the envelope for those notes Jason had mentioned. The pictures could wait.
____________________________________________
Hi Harry.
Did you have fun in London? Jason said you did. He said you were really awesome with Christoff and Elsa and that banquet. Those are pretty weird, those vampire things. I've only ever been to them with Anita too, which is a lot better than not having her around.
I was thinking about something, and don't tell anyone, but since you're in school you can know, right? I was thinking I should get my GED, the high school diploma for people who didn't go to school. I don't need it, I can keep working at the club (Jean-Claude gave me another shift, so now I'm headlining more often and making more money). But I don't know if Anita would want me to. She says she wants me to be independent, but then when I do stuff she says she wants, she gets surprised. I don't want to make her mad. And I don't want to tell Micah, because he'll tell her. I don't know.
What would you do? If you do write back, don't mention this, okay? Just in case someone sees.
Anita says you should come over for Christmas. I think that's a good idea.
Nathaniel
____________________________________________
____________________________________________
Harry,
Jason has informed me what you said to Anita, the night of Christoff's banquet. While I would not have had you tell Anita of your plans, it does seem to have had the desired result. I stand in your debt, for your willingness to protect Anita and my pomme de sang.
I was also informed of your other conquests of the evening. If you can, cultivate a relationship with Siva. He is quite a fascinating conversationalist, and while he does not become involved in court intrigue, he is quite well versed in the human politics of the day.
Lastly, a note of caution on Christoff and Elsa. While you have been offered Christoff's protection, be aware that Elsa is slightly fanatical when it comes to protecting her Master's honor. If you do find yourself back in Christoff's territory, be on alert for Elsa as well as other dangers.
Jean-Claude
____________________________________________
____________________________________________
Harry,
How's school this year? I know we talked about your classes, but I was thinking that if you ever need any help with anything, you can always ask me. I may teach junior high, but I've been asked to consider moving up to senior high school to teach biology for next year. You may be good practice.
Anita said there's a boy like Jason at the school. How young is he? Does his family know what's going on? What kind of protections does the school have for the end of the month? Are you okay with that? I know it's not my place, but the younger ones need a lot more help than the adults. Changing that early in life can change a kid's outlook. Jamil changed when he was 13; he's a little more in tune with his "other self" as he's been with it longer.
Take care of yourself.
Richard
____________________________________________
____________________________________________
Hello, Harry.
This was Jason's idea, and I'm not sure why; we saw you a day and a half ago. I don't know what can happen in three days -- no, scratch that. I do know. I just hope that you haven't been doing any of that.
When we got home, almost al the damage from your party had been fixed. I've got a guy coming on the ninth to fix the porch railing. I have no idea how Gregory managed to "accidentally" fall through six feet of flower bed and through the rails. He promised to come over and wash my car once a week for a month. I'm convinced that he'll manage to trick Stephen into doing it.
This is stupid, I never know what to put in letters. The flight home was okay. Requiem is fine, although he's decided that flying in his coffin is as unfun as you can imagine, and won't do it again. No kidding.
If you have no other plans for Christmas, you can come here. We'll pick you up at the airport and put you up for a few days. Damian would love to see you. And so would I.
Be careful. I don't know what they're going to say to you about whatever fight you find yourself in, but remember: You're the one I want walking out the other side alive.
Anita
____________________________________________
Harry traced Anita's signature on the page. Reading her letter, it was very easy to imagine hearing her voice in his ear, voice partly annoyed by what Jason was making her do, and partly worried about him.
How long has it been since I heard her laugh? Harry wondered suddenly. Just because she was happy, and not worried about anything?
Shaking his head, Harry slipped the letters away and picked up the photographs. The top photo was the one of Damian that Harry has shown to Ron and Hermione. Damian was the focus of the pictures, but standing a little beside and behind him, almost hidden, was Anita. Peering closely at the picture, Harry though he saw Anita resting her hand on his wrist.
The sudden flare of envy startled Harry. I am not going to think that about my grandfather like that! he thought, shocked. He's her vampire servant! He lives in her house!
Uncomfortable, Harry went onto the next photograph. He stood crushed in a group hug with Jason, Stephen, Gregory, Nathaniel, Zane, Cherry and Vivian. They were such a diverse group of people; tall, short, skinny, muscular... but something about them looked the same to Harry. Their animals, he realized. Am I imagining it, or can I actually see something here? On a closer look, Harry decided that he was being silly.
The next photograph made Harry smile. Anita was leaning against Micah, watching the poker game. In the picture, Harry was making a face as Jamil once again won the hand. Anita was smiling slightly, wrapped up in Micah's arms. Things should always be that safe.
At the next picture, Harry's smile slid away. Nathaniel and Harry stood together, laughing about something. Harry had his arm over Nathaniel's shoulders. At the time, it was just the thing to do. Now...
Harry swallowed hard, his mouth strangely dry. He'd never thought of Nathaniel like that, not before his dream the previous night. He wasn't gay, after all. Right?
So why had he dreamed of Nathaniel, like that?
Harry shoved all the pictures back into the envelope, along with the letters, then went back to his Animagus book. He didn't want to think about St. Louis any more.
He managed to read about three pages of the book before he came across an illustration of a large cat. He traced his fingers along the drawing, then let his head fall back against the back of the chair.
I'd understand dreams about crazy horrible things, or even going to class naked. But why this? He'd never had a dream about anyone, even a girl, that had been so very vivid. It was like he had actually been there with Nathaniel.
One more thing I can't talk to Ron about, Harry thought bitterly. At least Jason had wondered about these kinds of things too. He'd even kissed Nathaniel to prove a point to himself.
That was exactly the wrong thing Harry needed to remember. He shot to his feet and stalked over to the windows, staring out onto the cold landscape. The sun was setting in the west, painting the sky brilliant colours. It was still daytime in St. Louis. Maybe Anita and everyone were just getting up, ready to start the day.
Lucky them.
"Harry?" came a breathless voice from behind him. Harry swung around to see Ginny climbing in the portrait hole. "What happened in Defence?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.
Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder impatiently. "What do I mean? Half the school's saying that you tried to set Snape on fire, while the other half says he tried to Avada Kedavra you!"
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "That's not what happened at all!"
"I know that, but I can't get Ron or Hermione to give me a straight answer!" Ginny came closer and peered up at his face. "You don't look that bad."
"Thanks." Harry went back over to his armchair and flopped down. "I'm fine, it's just... It's a long story."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Will you all stop being so cryptic?" she demanded. "Did you do something to Snape? He wasn't at dinner."
"He wasn't?"
"No, and neither was Dumbledore."
"Oh." Maybe something had happened, something with Voldemort. Harry frowned. "Was McGonagall there? Did she look worried?"
"No, just annoyed." Ginny pulled over a footstool and sat beside Harry. "So, tell me!"
With a sigh, Harry told Ginny the story of what happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts class. "He was being a total git, too, taking points off me for stupid stuff!"
"Yes, but he always did that," Ginny pointed out. "Ron used to say so about Potions all the time."
"Are you taking Snape's side in all this?" Harry demanded, incredulously.
"For heaven's sake!" Ginny exclaimed. "If I was taking Snape's side, I'd be saying this was all your fault, which I am not! I'm saying that Snape's acting like he always does!"
"He never tried to kill me before!"
"Do you honestly think that if he wanted you dead, he'd have missed?"
Harry gaped at her. It took him a few seconds to make his mouth form words. "What are you talking about?"
Ginny shifted on the footstool. "I overheard Mum and Dad talking this summer, about Snape. They said he could be really dangerous."
"Does Dumbledore know about this? Of course he does," Harry answered his own question. "What the hell is he playing at?"
"You're missing my point!" Ginny wrapped her fingers around Harry's wrist. "He wasn't trying to kill you at all!"
"Just maim me," Harry said, voice faltering. Ginny had leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder, her fingers burning against his skin. All he had to do was move forward another few inches and he could kiss her....
And then she'd punch his teeth out.
"Thanks for the words of comfort," he said, pulling away from her a little hastily. "But I think I'll skip Defence for the rest of the year." Before Ginny could say anything, he reached for the pile of photographs. "Want to see a picture of my grandfather?"
Harry ended up showing Ginny all the pictures from his going-away party. She was fascinated with the photograph of Damian, and the ones of Harry. She kept returning to the image that had caused Harry so much trouble earlier: the photo of Harry and Nathaniel.
"He's got such long hair," she said enviously.
"Yeah, I guess."
Ginny gave him a sideways glance. "He's also really cute."
Harry shrugged.
"What does he do?"
"He's a stripper," Harry said without thinking.
Ginny blinked. "Is that some muggle term? Like that paint stripper advertisement Dad found?"
"Um, no." Harry felt heat rising to his cheeks. "He strips his clothes off, on stage. Women watch and give him money."
Ginny made a weird noise in her throat and dropped the picture. "What? Why?"
Harry's lips quirked up into an embarrassed smile. "If I had a body like his, I'd do it too."
Ginny's eyes got even wider, and belatedly Harry remembered that he wasn't talking to someone like Jason; this was a girl, his best friend's little sister. That probably wasn't the best thing to say to a girl like Ginny.
The portrait hole swung open, and several Gryffindors came in, chattering loudly. Harry looked away from Ginny and began to gather up the pictures.
"Harry, you all right?" Dean asked, coming over with Seamus and Neville. "You took off after Defence so fast."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said. "Hermione was keeping an eye on me."
Seamus cracked a grin. "See?" he said to Dean. "I told you he was fine." Dean and Seamus wandered off, leaving Neville hovering anxiously.
"Are you really okay?" Neville asked. "I don't think anyone else saw how bad you were bleeding."
"I'm fine. Really."
Neville sat on the edge of a nearby table. "What was that all about?" he asked in a low voice.
"I don't know."
"Didn't Hermione say that you two were the only ones, besides her, that got the voiceless spell thing today?" Ginny asked them.
"Yes, but--"
"No buts!" Ginny interrupted Harry. "How often does that happen?"
"Often enough with Harry, in Defence," Neville said. "Hardly ever with me."
"That's not true!" Harry said hotly. "In the DA, and last year, you were almost as fast as I was at getting those spells!"
"But only when I was working with someone who got them too!" Neville retorted. "Otherwise, I was horrible!"
Ginny smiled a slow smile. "Snape must hate it that his two least-favourite students performed the best in his first class."
"Something like that." Harry slumped back in the armchair. "Look, I don't want to talk about Snape. In fact, I never want to think about him again."
"Suit yourself," Ginny said, getting to her feet. "You still did great today." Flashing Harry a brilliant smile, she walked away.
It took Harry a minute to get his breath back. "How was dinner?" he asked Neville.
Neville shrugged. "It was dinner. Everyone was talking about the Defence Against the Dark Arts class."
"Great." Harry toyed with the edge of his sleeve. "Look, Neville. I'm sorry I grabbed your wand in class today."
Neville shook his head. "No, don't be. It worked, you got your wand back and you beat Snape!"
Harry was about to protest, but then he saw the fierce expression on Neville's face, and he bit back the words. "It's a good wand," he said instead. "I've used other people's wands before, but this time it was different."
"Hotter, you mean?" Neville asked.
Harry frowned. "You feel that too?"
"The first few times I used it, sure." Neville seemed more animated now. "It still does that sometimes, when it's a really tricky spell. I got it from Olivander after my old wand was broken at the Ministry in fifth year." He hesitated. "Do you remember that dusty wand that Olivander used to have in his front window?"
"I do..." Harry finally clued in to Neville's meaning. "This is it?"
Neville nodded. "He tried almost every wand in the shop with me. Gran had to leave to get to Gringotts before it closed, and that's when he tried this one. And it was... it was perfect."
Harry blinked. "But I thought I saw that wand there last Christmas when we were in London. How could it be there if you had it then?"
"An illusion, maybe. Olivander said it would be best if I didn't tell anyone which wand I had."
"So why tell me?"
Neville stood up. "Maybe I needed to tell someone." Seeming slightly embarrassed, he headed toward the stairs.
Harry stayed slumped in the chair. His head was spinning. Maybe that's because I'm hungry. And I missed supper for nothing.
Just as Harry was contemplating going down to bother Dobby for some leftovers, Ron dropped onto the footstool nearby. "Hi," he blurted out.
Harry looked around. "Where's Hermione?"
"Dunno. Head Girl stuff." Ron shuffled his feet, looked everywhere but Harry. "I'm, uh..."
Harry waited as Ron turned an interesting shade of pink under his freckles.
"I'm sorry I said those things about your mum," Ron finally mumbled.
Harry didn't say anything, just stared at Ron.
"And, um, about your grandfather and stuff."
"What about accusing me of doing whatever-it-was to Ginny?" Harry said coldly. "Or am I still under suspicion for that?"
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "I'm trying to apologize and you're angry at me?"
"You told me to stay away from Ginny for no reason!" Harry said from between clenched teeth. "You can't just expect me to forget all about that!"
"Why not?"
"Because that's not the way it works!" Harry stopped shouting when he realized that everyone was looking at them. "I would never do anything to Ginny. How long have you known me? Six years? Have I ever done anything, at all, that would even give you the remotest idea that I'd do anything to hurt Ginny?"
Ron paled. "No," he said in a clipped voice. "But she's been my little sister longer than you've been my friend. I have to look out for her!"
"She's a witch, Ron, she can look after herself."
"Oh, not that rubbish!" Ron snapped.
"It's not rubbish! Just because Ginny's a woman doesn't mean that you need to chivalrously protecting her honour, Ron. She can do that herself. Women are allowed to do that now, we're not back a hundred years ago." God, I'm starting to sound like Anita now, Harry thought.
Ron took a deep breath. "Fine. If you say so. Just... if you hurt her, we're not going to be friends anymore."
Harry felt like screaming. "I'm not going to hurt her! How many times do I have to say this? Ginny's not even interested in me anymore!" He pulled off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Did Hermione put you up to this?"
"Don't you think I'd have done it better if she had?" Ron's voice was bitter and slightly sarcastic, and about as tired as Harry felt.
"Probably." Harry opened his eyes when he heard the portrait open. He was expecting more students to pile back in, so when he saw McGonagall's distinctive pointy hat, he pushed his glasses back on and sat up straight.
McGonagall, Hermione at her side, made a bee-line for Harry and Ron. "Mr. Potter," McGonagall said tightly. "On your feet."
"What did I do?" Harry said, standing up slowly.
"Quite a lot, from the sounds of things," McGonagall said. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Well, Potter, come on."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, glaring at Hermione. She glared back, although she went over to Ron and squeezed his shoulder. "Did I miss something at dinner?"
"All in time."
Harry was left with no option but to follow McGonagall out the portrait hole. He loped along easily behind her, wondering what he'd done now. It couldn't be Quidditch; the try-outs weren't until the following week. He hadn't broken anything, or even done anything wrong except skipping dinner, since the morning class. Hadn't Snape done enough to him in class? Maybe McGonagall was going to yell at him for taking Neville's wand.
She could have done that in the common room, though, Harry thought. I didn't forget a detention, did I?
A tiny voice in his head wanted him to ask McGonagall about being an Animagus, but Harry kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was McGonagall thinking he was trying to become an unregistered Animagus. She'd have my head on a platter!
Eventually, the route they were taking began to sink into Harry's head. "Are we going to see the Headmaster?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
"Great," Harry muttered. He hurried to keep up. McGonagall didn't say another word until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.
"Blood Pops," McGonagall said. The gargoyle moved aside to reveal the stone spiral staircase up to the office.
Too soon, they were at the top of the stairs, at the door to the Headmaster's office. McGonagall rapped at the door with her knuckles, then barely waited for Dumbledore to say, "Come in," before pushing open the door.
Dumbledore looked up from his desk at their entrance. "Please, sit down," he said, pushing his papers aside.
Gingerly, Harry sat on the edge of the hard-backed chair across the desk from Dumbledore. McGonagall stayed standing, arms crossed over her chest.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, regarding Harry through his half-moon glasses. "How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry looked to McGonagall, then back to Dumbledore. "What's this about?"
"Just answer the Headmaster's question, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.
I will if you tell me what this is about, Harry thought sullenly. "I'm fine," he said.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Dumbledore pressed.
"What is this?" Harry asked. "An interrogation? I don't have anything to say; you brought me up here. I could have told you I was fine in the common room."
"Miss Granger told us what occurred during Defence Against the Dark Arts class today," Dumbledore said.
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew Hermione. She wouldn't have gone running to the Headmaster with stories about Snape. Not without talking to Harry, at least. "You mean you asked her," he said, although he knew the answer.
"Yes." Dumbledore was as somber as Harry had ever seen him. "Was the curse that hit your shoulder the only one that struck you?"
Harry glanced at McGonagall. Both she and Dumbledore were far too serious for this to just be about what happened in Defence. Students had been hurt in class before. Hell, Neville had broken his wrist falling off a broom in his first week at Hogwarts, and that didn't need a teacher meeting.
"Harry, the curse," Dumbledore reminded him.
"Yeah, that was it," Harry said. "I mean, I was disarmed or I'd probably have been able to block... it..." His voice trailed off. "Is something wrong?"
McGonagall paced across the office to one of the windows. "I have spoken with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said. Anger surged in Harry, hearing that name, as Dumbledore went on. "The forty-five points he took from Gryffindor will be restored to the House total."
"Forty-seven."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Forty-seven points," Harry said. He shifted back a bit on the chair. From the look on Dumbledore's face, he wasn't going anywhere for a while. "I had two points taken off for making a mess of the floor."
"How?" McGonagall asked tiredly.
"Bleeding." Harry raised his eyebrows at Dumbledore.
"Forty-seven points will be restored, in that case," Dumbledore said. "Is there anything else you'd like to say about this morning, Harry?"
It was tempting, so very tempting, to get Snape in trouble, but Harry wasn't a tattletale. Dumbledore knew how much Snape loathed Harry. "No sir."
"Very well. Minerva, I wish to speak to Harry a little longer," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall pinched together her already thin lips. "Very well. Good night, Mr. Potter. Albus."
"Good night, Professor," Harry said. He sat, waiting, until McGonagall shut the door behind her, before closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.
He heard the rustle of cloth, and the creak of furniture. "Would you care for some tea?" Dumbledore asked. Without opening his eyes, Harry nodded. He sat like that for a few minutes, until he heard the delicate clatter of fine china, and opened his eyes.
"Thanks," Harry muttered, sipping the light amber drink. The taste was clear and refreshing on Harry's tongue, and he breathed in the steam for a moment, before setting the cup down.
Dumbledore waited for Harry to place his cup firmly on the saucer, before saying, "Professor Snape tells me that he curse he used this morning only works on werewolves."
Harry shot to his feet. "What?" he demanded, aghast. "What's he playing at? Using that on students? While Reece is in the school?"
"Reece was not in that classroom, Harry, you were."
"That's not the point!" Harry shouted. "Does it matter if he tries to kill me with flying curses? Or falling rocks? If he's doing this to me, in seventh year, what's he going to do to the first years?"
"He will not be doing anything of the sort. According to Professor Snape, it was merely a demonstration that got a little out of hand."
"A little out of hand?" Harry raked his hands through his hair so he wouldn't start throwing things. "A little out of hand would have been stopping when he disarmed me, not shooting me in the shoulder! When was he going to stop, when I fell to his feet and begged for mercy?"
"Harry, enough." Dumbledore's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the gathering anger and frustration Harry was feeling. "Sit down."
Harry stayed standing for just a moment, long enough to feel rebellious, before shuffling back to his chair. He picked the teacup back up and stared into the liquid rather than look at Dumbledore.
"For any other student, the curse would only have felt a rush of wind," Dumbledore said. "Professor Snape said that he did not notice that you were bleeding."
Harry gulped down the rest of the cooling tea. "Then how do you know how hurt I was?"
"I spoke with Madam Pomfrey this afternoon." Without moving a finger, Dumbledore levitated the teapot over and refilled Harry's cup. "She had some concerns about the depth of your wound."
"It'll be fine, she fixed me up," Harry said, not exactly easy with this line of the conversation. "Is Reece okay? He seemed to get a little better on the walk to the infirmary. At least he stopped throwing up."
"Yes, Mr. Trevelyan will be fine. The potion the first year students were mixing today contained an ingredient to which he had an adverse reaction. He will be fine in a day."
"Good," Harry muttered. He rested his head on the back of the chair. His right arm was aching. He must have torn something when he heaved that desk in front of him to block the curse in class that morning.
"Unfortunately, it is not," Dumbledore said.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore met his gaze steadily. "In light of what happened in class today, Professor Snape has asked that you be removed from Hogwarts at once."
Horrified, Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"It is his opinion that you must have been infected as a werewolf by Remus Lupin at some point over the summer, and that you are thereby a danger to every student in Hogwarts."
A very bitter laugh escaped Harry's mouth. "He couldn't wait to pin this on Remus, could he?" Dumbledore can't be serious about this, can he?
Can he?
Feeling as if his whole life was circling down the drain, Harry set his cup down on the desk with a trembling hand and stood up. He managed to walk over to the windows where McGonagall stood earlier, and looked out at the pitch-black night.
Snape had never, in six long years, asked that Harry be expelled. Detentions, humiliations, points taken off, but never to be outright expelled. And now, to ask over something that wasn't even true... Harry didn't know what to say. Heaped on top of everything else he'd had happen to him in the past few days, with the Horcruxes and Voldemort and Snape and Ron and Reece and all of it, he didn't have any idea of what to do.
Why can't all of this shit happen to someone else? he thought, exhausted, as he traced the glass in the window.
"So am I going to have to leave tonight, or can I at least grab something to eat tomorrow morning?" Harry asked after a few minutes.
Dumbledore sighed. "You aren't going anywhere."
"Why not?" Harry demanded, turning around. "You don't know I'm not a werewolf, all I ever did was tell you! Maybe, if I wasn't here--"
He broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Hogwarts had been his home for the past six years, the first real place he had to call him own, after the Dursleys' house. His friends were here, his world... Even to think of it being ripped away by one vindictive man hurt more than Harry could have imagined.
Dumbledore stood and walked around the desk to where Harry was standing. "You told me, Harry, and I believed you."
"Why?" Harry had to ask. "No one else ever does. They didn't believe me about Voldemort, or anything." He leaned his shoulder against the stone wall, wincing at the pain that ran down his arm.
"I have always believed you, Harry." When Harry looked around, Dumbledore was smiling slightly. "You have never been a fanciful child, making up stories others want to hear. That does not change. You know the weight of the events of our day; you would not tell tales about this."
"But Snape--"
"Snape is not headmaster," Dumbledore reminded Harry. "Even if you were a werewolf, as I told you in St. Louis, you would be welcome here."
"But Remus had to leave, when everyone learned he was a werewolf," Harry found himself saying. "After that thing with Sirius and Pettigrew..."
Dumbledore was shaking his head. "Remus chose to leave. Until you choose to leave, Harry, Hogwarts will be your home."
"Thank you, sir," Harry whispered, miserable. "I think I should go back to the common room now." He slowly trudged across the office. Maybe some sleep would help get rid of this horrible feeling, like he'd been run over by a herd of Thestrals. In with all the aches, he was starting to get a little sick to his stomach. This is the worst day ever.
"On Monday evening, Harry, I would like you to come to my office after dinner. I have found a new source of information on the Horcruxes, which I hope to retrieve tomorrow."
"Sure thing, sir."
"Harry..."
His hand on the doorknob, Harry turned around. Dumbledore was opening a small closet in the wall, where Harry knew he kept his Pensive. "Yes?"
"Very quick thinking this morning, in your Defence class," Dumbledore said.
Harry couldn't even manage a smile. "Thank you."
He left.
~*~
Later that night, in bed, Harry stared at the darkened walls of his dorm. His dormmates were asleep; had been for hours.
Harry's shoulder ached too much for him to sleep. He'd rubbed that ointment on his skin like Madame Pomfrey told him, but it hadn't dulled the pain. His other arm still hurt, and at some point between Dumbledore's office and the common room, he'd developed a killer headache in addition to his upset stomach.
Water hadn't helped. Nothing helped, so Harry lay awake in the cold bed.
He tried to blame Snape for doing this to him, but he'd hated Snape for so long that he couldn't whip up any more emotion. If I'd been quicker, smarter, he never would have gotten my wand away from me in the first place. Bellatrix did it once -- that Snape did it in class a month later is inexcusable!
He replayed the fight in his head, over and over until it began to bleed together with Bellatrix's attack in St. Louis, her laughter overlying the malevolently gleeful gleam in Snape's eyes as he closed in for the kill.
Lying there, Harry swore he would never be disarmed again. Even if he had to tie his wand to his arm with string, he would never again let himself be so defenseless in a fight.
A wolf wouldn't be defenseless. In that moment, Harry had never been so disappointed that he hadn't shifted into a werewolf, on the night of the full moon.
...to be continued
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Only the story is my own.
Rating: PG-13ish
Note: The last day of the first week! Time starts moving faster next chapter, so enjoy the cheerful and leisurely ride! Okay, no.
Previous parts here
Harry skipped dinner. He didn't want to see Snape again, not even across the crowded Hall. Instead, he went up to the deserted Gryffindor common room to read his Animagus book.
I'm going to be an Animagus if it kills me, he thought grimly as he settled into an armchair. Although he couldn't quite put it into words, he needed to do something that Snape couldn't, and Snape wasn't an Animagus. Harry needed to prove to himself that he wasn't the incompetent child he'd acted like in class this morning.
Losing my wand, just like with Bellatrix Lestrange, he remembered, a wave of hot shame running down his body. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to block out the memory of Anita's screaming. You'd think I'd learn!
The crackling sound of the fire brought him back. He took several deep breaths, then lowered his eyes to the book. If he became an Animagus, then if he lost his wand, he wouldn't be totally defenseless. What was it Jason said, before we went to the Lupanar that first night? That I wasn't prepared for dealing with a fight with claws and teeth aimed for my stomach? Maybe that means the Death Eaters wouldn't be, either.
Which reminded him. Harry looked around the room, to make sure it was empty, then set his book aside and pulled out the letter from Jason. He'd been so wrapped up in the conversation with Hermione and Ron that he hadn't had a chance to see what Jason had sent.
Harry took another sniff of the letter. Even though it was only paper, it carried a tiny hint of an indescribable quality, that warmed Harry down to the tips of his toes. It smelled like home.
Home. What's that? Harry wondered as he carefully unfolded the letter, and began to read.
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.
Mostly, it's pictures from your party, because we had to leave for England before we could get them developed. But we figured that you could show all your friends over in England how much fun you had this summer. Just forget all that crazy crap.
I made a bunch of people include little notes. They're under the pictures. This is just to show you that I'm not the only one who misses you.
Before I end up sobbing on the page, one last thing: Can you come over for Christmas break? That would be really neat. We'd all like to see you. Except Asher, but he doesn't count. Even Melanie has asked when you were coming back. Which was a whole lot of creepy, now that I think about it.
Tammy Reynolds is arranging us to send this letter by something she calls owl post. Is that the logo or something? The U.S. Postal Service has an eagle as the mascot. I asked her, and she gave this look like I was a total knob.
Harry broke from the letter, laughing hard. He could just imagine the look on Jason's face when he saw the huge postal owl.
The trip back to St. Louis was okay. Anita was in a really foul mood, which was partly leaving you behind, and partly flying when she was exhausted and hung over from donating blood. I didn't lose any body parts, which is always an added bonus. Although she got snippy with the Customs Officials who didn't believe she was a U.S. Marshal. They called the cops and everything, and when the police got there, they were really unimpressed with the airport guys, because they all know Anita. Just general badness.
(This is part of the reason for the letter -- anything to get Anita's mind off being so very angry. Remember what I told you about the difference between Anita being annoyed and her being angry? This is it. It's not pretty.)
I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.... can your pictures do that? I know the ones you had didn't speak, only move. That must be weird, if the person dies, but is still all alive in the pictures.
Come home for Christmas. This is not a request!
Manly hugs and kisses,
Jason
PS: Damian doesn't want to send a note, but he very somberly said you coming home for the holidays was a good idea, something he never does, which is his Viking way of showing affection, I suppose.
Harry laid down the letter, grinning like a fool. They wanted him to go back to St. Louis for Christmas! They missed him! Then he laughed out loud again. Of course they wanted him. They'd said so before he left, hadn't they? It had been a long three days, for him to be wondering otherwise.
Pushing aside the photographs, Harry dug into the envelope for those notes Jason had mentioned. The pictures could wait.
Hi Harry.
Did you have fun in London? Jason said you did. He said you were really awesome with Christoff and Elsa and that banquet. Those are pretty weird, those vampire things. I've only ever been to them with Anita too, which is a lot better than not having her around.
I was thinking about something, and don't tell anyone, but since you're in school you can know, right? I was thinking I should get my GED, the high school diploma for people who didn't go to school. I don't need it, I can keep working at the club (Jean-Claude gave me another shift, so now I'm headlining more often and making more money). But I don't know if Anita would want me to. She says she wants me to be independent, but then when I do stuff she says she wants, she gets surprised. I don't want to make her mad. And I don't want to tell Micah, because he'll tell her. I don't know.
What would you do? If you do write back, don't mention this, okay? Just in case someone sees.
Anita says you should come over for Christmas. I think that's a good idea.
Nathaniel
Harry,
Jason has informed me what you said to Anita, the night of Christoff's banquet. While I would not have had you tell Anita of your plans, it does seem to have had the desired result. I stand in your debt, for your willingness to protect Anita and my pomme de sang.
I was also informed of your other conquests of the evening. If you can, cultivate a relationship with Siva. He is quite a fascinating conversationalist, and while he does not become involved in court intrigue, he is quite well versed in the human politics of the day.
Lastly, a note of caution on Christoff and Elsa. While you have been offered Christoff's protection, be aware that Elsa is slightly fanatical when it comes to protecting her Master's honor. If you do find yourself back in Christoff's territory, be on alert for Elsa as well as other dangers.
Jean-Claude
Harry,
How's school this year? I know we talked about your classes, but I was thinking that if you ever need any help with anything, you can always ask me. I may teach junior high, but I've been asked to consider moving up to senior high school to teach biology for next year. You may be good practice.
Anita said there's a boy like Jason at the school. How young is he? Does his family know what's going on? What kind of protections does the school have for the end of the month? Are you okay with that? I know it's not my place, but the younger ones need a lot more help than the adults. Changing that early in life can change a kid's outlook. Jamil changed when he was 13; he's a little more in tune with his "other self" as he's been with it longer.
Take care of yourself.
Richard
Hello, Harry.
This was Jason's idea, and I'm not sure why; we saw you a day and a half ago. I don't know what can happen in three days -- no, scratch that. I do know. I just hope that you haven't been doing any of that.
When we got home, almost al the damage from your party had been fixed. I've got a guy coming on the ninth to fix the porch railing. I have no idea how Gregory managed to "accidentally" fall through six feet of flower bed and through the rails. He promised to come over and wash my car once a week for a month. I'm convinced that he'll manage to trick Stephen into doing it.
This is stupid, I never know what to put in letters. The flight home was okay. Requiem is fine, although he's decided that flying in his coffin is as unfun as you can imagine, and won't do it again. No kidding.
If you have no other plans for Christmas, you can come here. We'll pick you up at the airport and put you up for a few days. Damian would love to see you. And so would I.
Be careful. I don't know what they're going to say to you about whatever fight you find yourself in, but remember: You're the one I want walking out the other side alive.
Anita
Harry traced Anita's signature on the page. Reading her letter, it was very easy to imagine hearing her voice in his ear, voice partly annoyed by what Jason was making her do, and partly worried about him.
How long has it been since I heard her laugh? Harry wondered suddenly. Just because she was happy, and not worried about anything?
Shaking his head, Harry slipped the letters away and picked up the photographs. The top photo was the one of Damian that Harry has shown to Ron and Hermione. Damian was the focus of the pictures, but standing a little beside and behind him, almost hidden, was Anita. Peering closely at the picture, Harry though he saw Anita resting her hand on his wrist.
The sudden flare of envy startled Harry. I am not going to think that about my grandfather like that! he thought, shocked. He's her vampire servant! He lives in her house!
Uncomfortable, Harry went onto the next photograph. He stood crushed in a group hug with Jason, Stephen, Gregory, Nathaniel, Zane, Cherry and Vivian. They were such a diverse group of people; tall, short, skinny, muscular... but something about them looked the same to Harry. Their animals, he realized. Am I imagining it, or can I actually see something here? On a closer look, Harry decided that he was being silly.
The next photograph made Harry smile. Anita was leaning against Micah, watching the poker game. In the picture, Harry was making a face as Jamil once again won the hand. Anita was smiling slightly, wrapped up in Micah's arms. Things should always be that safe.
At the next picture, Harry's smile slid away. Nathaniel and Harry stood together, laughing about something. Harry had his arm over Nathaniel's shoulders. At the time, it was just the thing to do. Now...
Harry swallowed hard, his mouth strangely dry. He'd never thought of Nathaniel like that, not before his dream the previous night. He wasn't gay, after all. Right?
So why had he dreamed of Nathaniel, like that?
Harry shoved all the pictures back into the envelope, along with the letters, then went back to his Animagus book. He didn't want to think about St. Louis any more.
He managed to read about three pages of the book before he came across an illustration of a large cat. He traced his fingers along the drawing, then let his head fall back against the back of the chair.
I'd understand dreams about crazy horrible things, or even going to class naked. But why this? He'd never had a dream about anyone, even a girl, that had been so very vivid. It was like he had actually been there with Nathaniel.
One more thing I can't talk to Ron about, Harry thought bitterly. At least Jason had wondered about these kinds of things too. He'd even kissed Nathaniel to prove a point to himself.
That was exactly the wrong thing Harry needed to remember. He shot to his feet and stalked over to the windows, staring out onto the cold landscape. The sun was setting in the west, painting the sky brilliant colours. It was still daytime in St. Louis. Maybe Anita and everyone were just getting up, ready to start the day.
Lucky them.
"Harry?" came a breathless voice from behind him. Harry swung around to see Ginny climbing in the portrait hole. "What happened in Defence?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.
Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder impatiently. "What do I mean? Half the school's saying that you tried to set Snape on fire, while the other half says he tried to Avada Kedavra you!"
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "That's not what happened at all!"
"I know that, but I can't get Ron or Hermione to give me a straight answer!" Ginny came closer and peered up at his face. "You don't look that bad."
"Thanks." Harry went back over to his armchair and flopped down. "I'm fine, it's just... It's a long story."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Will you all stop being so cryptic?" she demanded. "Did you do something to Snape? He wasn't at dinner."
"He wasn't?"
"No, and neither was Dumbledore."
"Oh." Maybe something had happened, something with Voldemort. Harry frowned. "Was McGonagall there? Did she look worried?"
"No, just annoyed." Ginny pulled over a footstool and sat beside Harry. "So, tell me!"
With a sigh, Harry told Ginny the story of what happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts class. "He was being a total git, too, taking points off me for stupid stuff!"
"Yes, but he always did that," Ginny pointed out. "Ron used to say so about Potions all the time."
"Are you taking Snape's side in all this?" Harry demanded, incredulously.
"For heaven's sake!" Ginny exclaimed. "If I was taking Snape's side, I'd be saying this was all your fault, which I am not! I'm saying that Snape's acting like he always does!"
"He never tried to kill me before!"
"Do you honestly think that if he wanted you dead, he'd have missed?"
Harry gaped at her. It took him a few seconds to make his mouth form words. "What are you talking about?"
Ginny shifted on the footstool. "I overheard Mum and Dad talking this summer, about Snape. They said he could be really dangerous."
"Does Dumbledore know about this? Of course he does," Harry answered his own question. "What the hell is he playing at?"
"You're missing my point!" Ginny wrapped her fingers around Harry's wrist. "He wasn't trying to kill you at all!"
"Just maim me," Harry said, voice faltering. Ginny had leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder, her fingers burning against his skin. All he had to do was move forward another few inches and he could kiss her....
And then she'd punch his teeth out.
"Thanks for the words of comfort," he said, pulling away from her a little hastily. "But I think I'll skip Defence for the rest of the year." Before Ginny could say anything, he reached for the pile of photographs. "Want to see a picture of my grandfather?"
Harry ended up showing Ginny all the pictures from his going-away party. She was fascinated with the photograph of Damian, and the ones of Harry. She kept returning to the image that had caused Harry so much trouble earlier: the photo of Harry and Nathaniel.
"He's got such long hair," she said enviously.
"Yeah, I guess."
Ginny gave him a sideways glance. "He's also really cute."
Harry shrugged.
"What does he do?"
"He's a stripper," Harry said without thinking.
Ginny blinked. "Is that some muggle term? Like that paint stripper advertisement Dad found?"
"Um, no." Harry felt heat rising to his cheeks. "He strips his clothes off, on stage. Women watch and give him money."
Ginny made a weird noise in her throat and dropped the picture. "What? Why?"
Harry's lips quirked up into an embarrassed smile. "If I had a body like his, I'd do it too."
Ginny's eyes got even wider, and belatedly Harry remembered that he wasn't talking to someone like Jason; this was a girl, his best friend's little sister. That probably wasn't the best thing to say to a girl like Ginny.
The portrait hole swung open, and several Gryffindors came in, chattering loudly. Harry looked away from Ginny and began to gather up the pictures.
"Harry, you all right?" Dean asked, coming over with Seamus and Neville. "You took off after Defence so fast."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said. "Hermione was keeping an eye on me."
Seamus cracked a grin. "See?" he said to Dean. "I told you he was fine." Dean and Seamus wandered off, leaving Neville hovering anxiously.
"Are you really okay?" Neville asked. "I don't think anyone else saw how bad you were bleeding."
"I'm fine. Really."
Neville sat on the edge of a nearby table. "What was that all about?" he asked in a low voice.
"I don't know."
"Didn't Hermione say that you two were the only ones, besides her, that got the voiceless spell thing today?" Ginny asked them.
"Yes, but--"
"No buts!" Ginny interrupted Harry. "How often does that happen?"
"Often enough with Harry, in Defence," Neville said. "Hardly ever with me."
"That's not true!" Harry said hotly. "In the DA, and last year, you were almost as fast as I was at getting those spells!"
"But only when I was working with someone who got them too!" Neville retorted. "Otherwise, I was horrible!"
Ginny smiled a slow smile. "Snape must hate it that his two least-favourite students performed the best in his first class."
"Something like that." Harry slumped back in the armchair. "Look, I don't want to talk about Snape. In fact, I never want to think about him again."
"Suit yourself," Ginny said, getting to her feet. "You still did great today." Flashing Harry a brilliant smile, she walked away.
It took Harry a minute to get his breath back. "How was dinner?" he asked Neville.
Neville shrugged. "It was dinner. Everyone was talking about the Defence Against the Dark Arts class."
"Great." Harry toyed with the edge of his sleeve. "Look, Neville. I'm sorry I grabbed your wand in class today."
Neville shook his head. "No, don't be. It worked, you got your wand back and you beat Snape!"
Harry was about to protest, but then he saw the fierce expression on Neville's face, and he bit back the words. "It's a good wand," he said instead. "I've used other people's wands before, but this time it was different."
"Hotter, you mean?" Neville asked.
Harry frowned. "You feel that too?"
"The first few times I used it, sure." Neville seemed more animated now. "It still does that sometimes, when it's a really tricky spell. I got it from Olivander after my old wand was broken at the Ministry in fifth year." He hesitated. "Do you remember that dusty wand that Olivander used to have in his front window?"
"I do..." Harry finally clued in to Neville's meaning. "This is it?"
Neville nodded. "He tried almost every wand in the shop with me. Gran had to leave to get to Gringotts before it closed, and that's when he tried this one. And it was... it was perfect."
Harry blinked. "But I thought I saw that wand there last Christmas when we were in London. How could it be there if you had it then?"
"An illusion, maybe. Olivander said it would be best if I didn't tell anyone which wand I had."
"So why tell me?"
Neville stood up. "Maybe I needed to tell someone." Seeming slightly embarrassed, he headed toward the stairs.
Harry stayed slumped in the chair. His head was spinning. Maybe that's because I'm hungry. And I missed supper for nothing.
Just as Harry was contemplating going down to bother Dobby for some leftovers, Ron dropped onto the footstool nearby. "Hi," he blurted out.
Harry looked around. "Where's Hermione?"
"Dunno. Head Girl stuff." Ron shuffled his feet, looked everywhere but Harry. "I'm, uh..."
Harry waited as Ron turned an interesting shade of pink under his freckles.
"I'm sorry I said those things about your mum," Ron finally mumbled.
Harry didn't say anything, just stared at Ron.
"And, um, about your grandfather and stuff."
"What about accusing me of doing whatever-it-was to Ginny?" Harry said coldly. "Or am I still under suspicion for that?"
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "I'm trying to apologize and you're angry at me?"
"You told me to stay away from Ginny for no reason!" Harry said from between clenched teeth. "You can't just expect me to forget all about that!"
"Why not?"
"Because that's not the way it works!" Harry stopped shouting when he realized that everyone was looking at them. "I would never do anything to Ginny. How long have you known me? Six years? Have I ever done anything, at all, that would even give you the remotest idea that I'd do anything to hurt Ginny?"
Ron paled. "No," he said in a clipped voice. "But she's been my little sister longer than you've been my friend. I have to look out for her!"
"She's a witch, Ron, she can look after herself."
"Oh, not that rubbish!" Ron snapped.
"It's not rubbish! Just because Ginny's a woman doesn't mean that you need to chivalrously protecting her honour, Ron. She can do that herself. Women are allowed to do that now, we're not back a hundred years ago." God, I'm starting to sound like Anita now, Harry thought.
Ron took a deep breath. "Fine. If you say so. Just... if you hurt her, we're not going to be friends anymore."
Harry felt like screaming. "I'm not going to hurt her! How many times do I have to say this? Ginny's not even interested in me anymore!" He pulled off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Did Hermione put you up to this?"
"Don't you think I'd have done it better if she had?" Ron's voice was bitter and slightly sarcastic, and about as tired as Harry felt.
"Probably." Harry opened his eyes when he heard the portrait open. He was expecting more students to pile back in, so when he saw McGonagall's distinctive pointy hat, he pushed his glasses back on and sat up straight.
McGonagall, Hermione at her side, made a bee-line for Harry and Ron. "Mr. Potter," McGonagall said tightly. "On your feet."
"What did I do?" Harry said, standing up slowly.
"Quite a lot, from the sounds of things," McGonagall said. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Well, Potter, come on."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, glaring at Hermione. She glared back, although she went over to Ron and squeezed his shoulder. "Did I miss something at dinner?"
"All in time."
Harry was left with no option but to follow McGonagall out the portrait hole. He loped along easily behind her, wondering what he'd done now. It couldn't be Quidditch; the try-outs weren't until the following week. He hadn't broken anything, or even done anything wrong except skipping dinner, since the morning class. Hadn't Snape done enough to him in class? Maybe McGonagall was going to yell at him for taking Neville's wand.
She could have done that in the common room, though, Harry thought. I didn't forget a detention, did I?
A tiny voice in his head wanted him to ask McGonagall about being an Animagus, but Harry kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was McGonagall thinking he was trying to become an unregistered Animagus. She'd have my head on a platter!
Eventually, the route they were taking began to sink into Harry's head. "Are we going to see the Headmaster?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
"Great," Harry muttered. He hurried to keep up. McGonagall didn't say another word until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.
"Blood Pops," McGonagall said. The gargoyle moved aside to reveal the stone spiral staircase up to the office.
Too soon, they were at the top of the stairs, at the door to the Headmaster's office. McGonagall rapped at the door with her knuckles, then barely waited for Dumbledore to say, "Come in," before pushing open the door.
Dumbledore looked up from his desk at their entrance. "Please, sit down," he said, pushing his papers aside.
Gingerly, Harry sat on the edge of the hard-backed chair across the desk from Dumbledore. McGonagall stayed standing, arms crossed over her chest.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, regarding Harry through his half-moon glasses. "How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry looked to McGonagall, then back to Dumbledore. "What's this about?"
"Just answer the Headmaster's question, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.
I will if you tell me what this is about, Harry thought sullenly. "I'm fine," he said.
"Is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Dumbledore pressed.
"What is this?" Harry asked. "An interrogation? I don't have anything to say; you brought me up here. I could have told you I was fine in the common room."
"Miss Granger told us what occurred during Defence Against the Dark Arts class today," Dumbledore said.
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew Hermione. She wouldn't have gone running to the Headmaster with stories about Snape. Not without talking to Harry, at least. "You mean you asked her," he said, although he knew the answer.
"Yes." Dumbledore was as somber as Harry had ever seen him. "Was the curse that hit your shoulder the only one that struck you?"
Harry glanced at McGonagall. Both she and Dumbledore were far too serious for this to just be about what happened in Defence. Students had been hurt in class before. Hell, Neville had broken his wrist falling off a broom in his first week at Hogwarts, and that didn't need a teacher meeting.
"Harry, the curse," Dumbledore reminded him.
"Yeah, that was it," Harry said. "I mean, I was disarmed or I'd probably have been able to block... it..." His voice trailed off. "Is something wrong?"
McGonagall paced across the office to one of the windows. "I have spoken with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said. Anger surged in Harry, hearing that name, as Dumbledore went on. "The forty-five points he took from Gryffindor will be restored to the House total."
"Forty-seven."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Forty-seven points," Harry said. He shifted back a bit on the chair. From the look on Dumbledore's face, he wasn't going anywhere for a while. "I had two points taken off for making a mess of the floor."
"How?" McGonagall asked tiredly.
"Bleeding." Harry raised his eyebrows at Dumbledore.
"Forty-seven points will be restored, in that case," Dumbledore said. "Is there anything else you'd like to say about this morning, Harry?"
It was tempting, so very tempting, to get Snape in trouble, but Harry wasn't a tattletale. Dumbledore knew how much Snape loathed Harry. "No sir."
"Very well. Minerva, I wish to speak to Harry a little longer," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall pinched together her already thin lips. "Very well. Good night, Mr. Potter. Albus."
"Good night, Professor," Harry said. He sat, waiting, until McGonagall shut the door behind her, before closing his eyes and letting out a sigh.
He heard the rustle of cloth, and the creak of furniture. "Would you care for some tea?" Dumbledore asked. Without opening his eyes, Harry nodded. He sat like that for a few minutes, until he heard the delicate clatter of fine china, and opened his eyes.
"Thanks," Harry muttered, sipping the light amber drink. The taste was clear and refreshing on Harry's tongue, and he breathed in the steam for a moment, before setting the cup down.
Dumbledore waited for Harry to place his cup firmly on the saucer, before saying, "Professor Snape tells me that he curse he used this morning only works on werewolves."
Harry shot to his feet. "What?" he demanded, aghast. "What's he playing at? Using that on students? While Reece is in the school?"
"Reece was not in that classroom, Harry, you were."
"That's not the point!" Harry shouted. "Does it matter if he tries to kill me with flying curses? Or falling rocks? If he's doing this to me, in seventh year, what's he going to do to the first years?"
"He will not be doing anything of the sort. According to Professor Snape, it was merely a demonstration that got a little out of hand."
"A little out of hand?" Harry raked his hands through his hair so he wouldn't start throwing things. "A little out of hand would have been stopping when he disarmed me, not shooting me in the shoulder! When was he going to stop, when I fell to his feet and begged for mercy?"
"Harry, enough." Dumbledore's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the gathering anger and frustration Harry was feeling. "Sit down."
Harry stayed standing for just a moment, long enough to feel rebellious, before shuffling back to his chair. He picked the teacup back up and stared into the liquid rather than look at Dumbledore.
"For any other student, the curse would only have felt a rush of wind," Dumbledore said. "Professor Snape said that he did not notice that you were bleeding."
Harry gulped down the rest of the cooling tea. "Then how do you know how hurt I was?"
"I spoke with Madam Pomfrey this afternoon." Without moving a finger, Dumbledore levitated the teapot over and refilled Harry's cup. "She had some concerns about the depth of your wound."
"It'll be fine, she fixed me up," Harry said, not exactly easy with this line of the conversation. "Is Reece okay? He seemed to get a little better on the walk to the infirmary. At least he stopped throwing up."
"Yes, Mr. Trevelyan will be fine. The potion the first year students were mixing today contained an ingredient to which he had an adverse reaction. He will be fine in a day."
"Good," Harry muttered. He rested his head on the back of the chair. His right arm was aching. He must have torn something when he heaved that desk in front of him to block the curse in class that morning.
"Unfortunately, it is not," Dumbledore said.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore met his gaze steadily. "In light of what happened in class today, Professor Snape has asked that you be removed from Hogwarts at once."
Horrified, Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"It is his opinion that you must have been infected as a werewolf by Remus Lupin at some point over the summer, and that you are thereby a danger to every student in Hogwarts."
A very bitter laugh escaped Harry's mouth. "He couldn't wait to pin this on Remus, could he?" Dumbledore can't be serious about this, can he?
Can he?
Feeling as if his whole life was circling down the drain, Harry set his cup down on the desk with a trembling hand and stood up. He managed to walk over to the windows where McGonagall stood earlier, and looked out at the pitch-black night.
Snape had never, in six long years, asked that Harry be expelled. Detentions, humiliations, points taken off, but never to be outright expelled. And now, to ask over something that wasn't even true... Harry didn't know what to say. Heaped on top of everything else he'd had happen to him in the past few days, with the Horcruxes and Voldemort and Snape and Ron and Reece and all of it, he didn't have any idea of what to do.
Why can't all of this shit happen to someone else? he thought, exhausted, as he traced the glass in the window.
"So am I going to have to leave tonight, or can I at least grab something to eat tomorrow morning?" Harry asked after a few minutes.
Dumbledore sighed. "You aren't going anywhere."
"Why not?" Harry demanded, turning around. "You don't know I'm not a werewolf, all I ever did was tell you! Maybe, if I wasn't here--"
He broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Hogwarts had been his home for the past six years, the first real place he had to call him own, after the Dursleys' house. His friends were here, his world... Even to think of it being ripped away by one vindictive man hurt more than Harry could have imagined.
Dumbledore stood and walked around the desk to where Harry was standing. "You told me, Harry, and I believed you."
"Why?" Harry had to ask. "No one else ever does. They didn't believe me about Voldemort, or anything." He leaned his shoulder against the stone wall, wincing at the pain that ran down his arm.
"I have always believed you, Harry." When Harry looked around, Dumbledore was smiling slightly. "You have never been a fanciful child, making up stories others want to hear. That does not change. You know the weight of the events of our day; you would not tell tales about this."
"But Snape--"
"Snape is not headmaster," Dumbledore reminded Harry. "Even if you were a werewolf, as I told you in St. Louis, you would be welcome here."
"But Remus had to leave, when everyone learned he was a werewolf," Harry found himself saying. "After that thing with Sirius and Pettigrew..."
Dumbledore was shaking his head. "Remus chose to leave. Until you choose to leave, Harry, Hogwarts will be your home."
"Thank you, sir," Harry whispered, miserable. "I think I should go back to the common room now." He slowly trudged across the office. Maybe some sleep would help get rid of this horrible feeling, like he'd been run over by a herd of Thestrals. In with all the aches, he was starting to get a little sick to his stomach. This is the worst day ever.
"On Monday evening, Harry, I would like you to come to my office after dinner. I have found a new source of information on the Horcruxes, which I hope to retrieve tomorrow."
"Sure thing, sir."
"Harry..."
His hand on the doorknob, Harry turned around. Dumbledore was opening a small closet in the wall, where Harry knew he kept his Pensive. "Yes?"
"Very quick thinking this morning, in your Defence class," Dumbledore said.
Harry couldn't even manage a smile. "Thank you."
He left.
Later that night, in bed, Harry stared at the darkened walls of his dorm. His dormmates were asleep; had been for hours.
Harry's shoulder ached too much for him to sleep. He'd rubbed that ointment on his skin like Madame Pomfrey told him, but it hadn't dulled the pain. His other arm still hurt, and at some point between Dumbledore's office and the common room, he'd developed a killer headache in addition to his upset stomach.
Water hadn't helped. Nothing helped, so Harry lay awake in the cold bed.
He tried to blame Snape for doing this to him, but he'd hated Snape for so long that he couldn't whip up any more emotion. If I'd been quicker, smarter, he never would have gotten my wand away from me in the first place. Bellatrix did it once -- that Snape did it in class a month later is inexcusable!
He replayed the fight in his head, over and over until it began to bleed together with Bellatrix's attack in St. Louis, her laughter overlying the malevolently gleeful gleam in Snape's eyes as he closed in for the kill.
Lying there, Harry swore he would never be disarmed again. Even if he had to tie his wand to his arm with string, he would never again let himself be so defenseless in a fight.
A wolf wouldn't be defenseless. In that moment, Harry had never been so disappointed that he hadn't shifted into a werewolf, on the night of the full moon.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 11:43 pm (UTC)The dream(s) will not be going away any time soon. Besides, we all need to question our assumptions ocassionally.
So, having read it back to back -- any comments about any missing plot points? Am I being incomprehensible?
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 06:23 pm (UTC)and you've got a typo in the dumbledore/harry convo. chose when it should be choose. I think.
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Date: 2006-03-11 11:49 pm (UTC)Thanks :)
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Date: 2006-03-11 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 11:52 pm (UTC)Thanks! And there's a lot to happen before Christmas :O
Y'know...
Date: 2006-03-11 06:49 pm (UTC)In more ways than one.
Re: Y'know...
Date: 2006-03-11 11:53 pm (UTC)I think I've read that Snarry story, tho.
:P
no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 07:05 pm (UTC)Does Harry know that Snape is a spy?
I think you have Ron down to a T. It reminds me of the fourth book so much.
The letters were really good too. I hope Harry makes it back for Christmas. (Or the whole St. Luis gang comes to get him and everyone at Hogarts is there[or only the important people]. Maybe that should be a deleted scene though).
no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 11:57 pm (UTC)Yes, Harry know Snape's a spy, but only as much as he did in OotP. In which he knew that Snape was working for Dumbledore as well as Voldie, but he was all convinced that Snape was lying to Dumbledore too. Because otherwise, Harry would have to admit that Snape was actually of value, he had an important role. He's not wantintg to walk down that road, esp. after what happened in class in chapter 51.
We'll see about Christmas :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 11:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 07:30 pm (UTC)Another great chapter, though I'm still waiting for Harry to have a long rant...maybe he should sew everyone's mouths shut and just vent!That would be interesting...
Was really glad to see the letter from Jason, along with all the notes. They were very much in character, but I was a bit surprised to see one from Jean Claude. I never pegged him as the type to write letters, especially to people like Harry. But it was nice nonetheless.
Just one question: in this chapter you said that Snape had never once wanted Harry to be expelled? But, I seem to recall, that in book 2, when he caught Ron and Harry after they flew in with the car, he wanted them to be expelled and only thanks to Dumbledore and McGonagall did they get to stay. Or am I mistaken?
Anyway, thanks for another brilliant chapter and can't wait for more! Keep up the great work!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 12:01 am (UTC)JC's letter was there as a matter of propriety. Acknowledgeing that Harry did good, also cautioning him that JC knows what Harry told Anita (which he wasn't supposed to) and all that. For JC, having Harry under his wing is a major coup, politics wise, esp. after the Christoff incident.
Er, yeah, second year. I figure that Harry's just faint from hunger and forgot all that. Poor boy
Thanks :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 07:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 12:03 am (UTC)Snape's not so much knowing of Harry's summer, as being a total prick about his DADA knowledge. "Here's a curse that is so specialized that it will only affect one kind of magical creature! How witty am I? Oh my, it's affecting Harry Pot... WEREWOLF!!!"
(no subject)
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Date: 2006-03-11 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 12:09 am (UTC)GINNY: What will I have to do, throw myself onto his lap naked??
LUNA: He'd just say you looked cold, and give you his robe.
GINNY: *headdesk*
LUNA: But give it a try; you can always blakme the Snookered Walderwaiit.
GINNY: No, he'd just... huh?
Harry pushing himself like this is exactly what he needs, frankly. He hasn't got the time to be sitting back and enjoying life, not with Voldemort out there being all soul-split. He can vanquish Voldie first, then relax. Maybe go to Disneyland.
(no subject)
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From:excellent
I just want Harry to get on a plane and go back to St. Louis...
some thoughts
"Bloodpops" that is funny
dreaming of Nathaniel..poor mixed up Harry.
Jason is my fav.. love his letter. he knows Harry will need contact.
Oh.. you are only 50 chapters ahead of me. I am posting Chapter 2 of "Inescapable" later today!
Re: excellent
Date: 2006-03-12 12:12 am (UTC)Harry's such a poor kid. He needs a hug. Maybe I can fly Nathaniel out.... nah ;)
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From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 12:09 am (UTC)And plot? What's that? Hee hee. Anything in particualr you're seeing?
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Date: 2006-03-11 08:19 pm (UTC)-Sonya
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Date: 2006-03-12 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-11 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 02:36 am (UTC)And I just have this little scene with JC playing through my head...
JC: *stares at Jason with no expression* "You want me to what?"
Jason: "Write him a note saying that you miss him that he should come for Christmas!
JC: *stares at Jason with no expression*
Jason: *gives puppy dog eyes* "Come ooooonnnn...you know you wannaaaaa..."
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 02:45 am (UTC)I'll raise your mental scene and add the next:
Jason: So, are you asking to come for Christmas?
JC: *writing away with an old quill and ink and stuff* Non.
Jason: Please? It'd mean a lot coming from you.
JC: *still not looking up* Non.
Jason: Pretty please? With sugar on-- *voice trails off as JC gives him a Look* Okay, whatever.
Tee hee. Can you imagine Jason asking Anita that question? Also, poor Micah, dealing with Anger!Anita
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Date: 2006-03-12 02:51 am (UTC)so... snape thinks harry is a werewolf and isn't entirely right or wrong. something else that will be fun to explain come the full moon.
i'm glad that ron isn't being completely stupid anymore, too.
and this harry/nathaniel thing... what's going on there?
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:06 pm (UTC)The Harry and Nathaniel thing will be explained in time, don't worry :)
(no subject)
From:nice
Date: 2006-03-12 03:45 am (UTC)The best complement I can give you right now is that you make me loathe Severus Snape like no other author I have read. Short of those authors that actually make him outright evil, anyway. And I think your Snape is still nominally good. Maybe. Probably. Harry's kicking of his ass, and his extreme bitterness at this end result, are sweet, sweet ambrosia to me.
Ron apologized, as is his lot in life. Good for him. I've receded from pure hatred back to the... passive disdain I generally hold for him. I'm very glad Harry wasn't all instantly forgiving, at least.
And... letters! I hadn't realized how much I missed the St. Louis crew already until the letters came. Yay! No Christmas at the Weasleys! Probably.
I continue to love your Dumbledore. He's ceased to patronize Harry in any way, as far as I can see.
My only complaint is that we haven't heard from Remus yet.
Thanks for continuing to write such quality stuff, and at an alarming rate too!
Cheers,
Re: nice
Date: 2006-03-12 06:19 pm (UTC)Thanks! I'm trying to write it as Harry's POV, and Harry hates Snape with a passion even though he sort of knows Snape's not a total black hat.
I think if the fight between Ron and Harry had just been about Hary, like in 4th year, Harry'd be more forgiving. Now that it's gotten into insulting a) Harry's mother, b) his grandfather and c) that nice sister of Ron's, all bets are off. Plus they are slightly more grown up now, and we all know how long adults can hold grudges *cough*Snape*cough*
Remus.... well, that's a plot point, now, isn't it?
Inev 52 comments
Date: 2006-03-12 04:26 am (UTC)The business with the werewolf-specific hex was interesting; I wonder how many charms/curses in the wizarding world have such specificity, and if you plan to have something like that happen again. For instance, someone might curse Harry with something to which he has internalized-werewolf-induced immunity.
I can't quite figure why Dumbledore would tell Harry that Snape wanted him expelled. It's not as if he's a gossip. Could he be trying to ENHANCE Harry's already intense hatred of Snape? Gah! He's such a confusing, manipulative old geezer. (Spot on characterization by you, as usual; but I hope that *you* at least know why he told Harry! :-))
Snape had never, in six long years, asked that Harry be expelled. True AFAIK, but rather hairsplitting - there was the bit in book 2 in which Snape wished aloud that Harry and Ron were in his House so he could expel them; there was the incident in book 3 when Snape told the minister that any other student would be suspended "at least" for what Potter had done, and suggested that he'd always treated Harry like any other student. Those incidents gave me the impression that Snape would be delighted for Harry to be expelled, but, as you suggest above, he knew DD wouldn't let it actually happen.
I'm interested in that wand of Neville's being the dusty one from the front of the shop; I never thought about it again until you brought it up, but it would be just like JKR to have a detail like that pop up again later. And I like the idea someone suggested above, that it's a Horcrux. However the description of the wand's magic feeling HOT makes me think of lycanthropic magic, that perhaps the core is a were-gryffon feather, werewold hair, or some such.
Fun, interesting chapter!
Re: Inev 52 comments
Date: 2006-03-12 06:40 pm (UTC)I wonder how many charms/curses in the wizarding world have such specificity
It would make sense, I suppose, in a battle against non-shifted werewolves. You could throw the curse about willy-nilly, not worrying about hurting bystanders.
But then, it's Snape. He invented that "lift a guy in the air" curse, and others, when he was 16. I'm sure he could whip up something that specific. Esp. if there's a psycho werewolf in Voldemort's camp who likes to munch on children.
I hope that *you* at least know why he told Harry! :-)
I do. It's not the hatred thing, so much. Let's just say that Dumbledore no longer has the time to hold Harry's hand, and has to make do with the teachers he has. Basically, Harry's going to learn from Snape, one way or the other.
I'm interested in that wand of Neville's being the dusty one from the front of the shop; I never thought about it again until you brought it up, but it would be just like JKR to have a detail like that pop up again later. And I like the idea someone suggested above, that it's a Horcrux.
Now, am I introducing a plot point, or a red herring? One never knows with me :)
I'm glad you liked the chapter.
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Date: 2006-03-12 04:33 am (UTC)"Their animals, he realized. Am I imagining it, or can I actually see something here? On a closer look, Harry decided that he was being silly."
Uh...yeah. You know. :D
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 05:00 am (UTC)Two questions:
What will it take for Harry to make a move on Ginny? Or will she jump him?
One comment:
Wouldn't Dumbledore have corrected Harry's referring to Snape as Snape?
That's all, and thanks for such a speedy update.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:49 am (UTC)Q1: What will it take for Harry to make a move on Ginny?
You wouldn't believe me if I told you. All in time.
Q2: Or will she jump him?
Something sort of like that.
Wouldn't Dumbledore have corrected Harry's referring to Snape as Snape?
Harry was enough on edge as it was. Correcting Harry on that might lead to Capslock!Harry, and Dumbledore really had enough on this hands this night :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:54 am (UTC)i wonder if the idea that harry isn't really a werewolf is going to be a problem. i can see him fretting that he couldn't possibly turn into a wolf as it wouldn't be right. he isn't a werewolf. silly boy.
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Date: 2006-03-12 05:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-03-12 07:13 am (UTC)Manly hugs and kisses = love ^_^
Anita's letter and Harry's reaction = much happy love
I don't know what they're going to say to you about whatever fight you find yourself in, but remember: You're the one I want walking out the other side alive. = LOVE
Richard's letter sounds like a paranoid mother ^_^ And somehow, I'm getting a guilt vibe. O.o Perhaps it's just an emotion I consistently associate with Richard... heh.
He's a stripper. Spending time with Anita did nothing for this boy's tact :D
For some reason, when light was shed on Snape's actions in DADA, it made me want to giggle. Lots. :P
Snape: Muahah, I shall impress all with my knowledge and master of the (defense against the) Dark Arts!
*he begins dueling Harry*
Harry: WTF
*he begins losing to Harry*
Snape: WTF. Plot device - I mean specialized curse because i'm so kewl and maybe suspicious of Harry!
Harry: *bleeds*
Snape: WTF?!? ... he's a werewolf!! ... CHEATER!!!
Because, obviously, Snape could never loose a duel against a normal Harry Potter (oxymoron, I know). ^_^ ::giggles more::
But, blaming Remus, that was just silly... ::pets Remus:: He's a good puppy ::snatches hand back before crazy werewolf-Remus bites it off:: ^_^
I really liked the bit you put in about Neville's wand, I just wish you had put more. Not unlike how I feel about almost everything you write. :P
<.< ... >.> ...
I'm going to bed now. >.< (g'night)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:42 pm (UTC)inevitable
Date: 2006-03-12 05:55 pm (UTC)Re: inevitable
Date: 2006-03-12 06:43 pm (UTC)Yeah, I'm being rather blatant with the Harry=Animagi clues, aren't I? Oh well. It's just such an obvious thing to have happen. We'll see how it goes.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:23 pm (UTC)I really like the continuing Animagus plot thread you have going here. I've always wondered why exactly Harry never became more interested in becoming one. His father was one after all and the value in becoming an animal at will has been seen throughout the books (ie- Peter's disappearance, Sirius' escape). The obvious choice is that Harry would become a wolf, but from reading your fiction we all know that you are anything but obvious. So I will patiently await to see what happens :)
Oh oh! Neville! Wand! Big freaking plot hinting! *bells and gongs sound round* I actually went to hp-lexicon (<3 hp-lexicon) so I could refresh my memory about that particular wand. You actually made me look something up *shakes fist* Ahem, anyways. Cherry wood and unicorn hair, supposedly the last wand Ollivander sold before he disappeared. Hrrrrm.
I feel for Harry, missing St. Louis and the friends he made there. But hopefully he doesn't keep distancing himself from the friends he already has. He still hasn't told them exactly what happened in St. Louis, which is understandable because of Ron, but Hermione is already a bit suspicious and I'm sure very *curious* about what curse Snape used on Harry. I understand his hesitancy though, hopefully he'll comfortable enough to tell them about that and the Horcruxes soon.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-12 06:53 pm (UTC)I think, really, that JRK had too much going on to follow up on the thread. She'd have had to have started waaay before this. As for me, I'm taking the easy way out -- "Sure, it's all in the animal!" etc.
He still hasn't told them exactly what happened in St. Louis, which is understandable because of Ron, but Hermione is already a bit suspicious
Ding ding ding! Yes, Hermione, being Hermione, is getting more suspicious by the day. Minute, actually. Just wait until Harry starts working on his Animagus stuff; she'll blow a gasket :)
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Date: 2006-03-12 06:46 pm (UTC)i love that you're bringing Neville into it - damn man, that wand? crazy. i'm so curious about what that means for both boys.
another thing - Snape? saying that Harry should be expelled? man, i was trying to look favourably on him after both Hermione and Ginny talking to Harry - i mean, it's like in the 5th book, where some of the things that happened we only see from Harry POV, and therefore don't know the real reason behind the action. but now! expulsion?! he makes me sooooo mad. and of course now i'm worried for Reece, because if Snape finds out about the boy, he'll make his life miserable.
i can't wait for more. i hope Harry goes back to St. Louis for Yule. i also hope to high heaven that he punches Ron sooner or later. i'm sorry, but i can't imagine still being friends with someone who is so quick to anger, and to judge. Harry deserves better. (speaking of better... are you going to turn this into an H/G? i'd waaay rather it be H/Nathaniel!!)
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Date: 2006-03-12 06:59 pm (UTC)The wand.... a very good question.
As for Snape and the werewolves -- See, Harry is the epitome of all that Snape hates -- James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Gryffindor, Quidditch star, all around hero. Add werewolf to the mix, and it's one more reason to hate him. Reece is just a boy, a Hufflepuff, and probably in awe of all teachers. Who knows what Snape will think? Time will tell.
I can say that Inevitable won't be Harry/Nathaniel. Can't say what it will be, though. Glad you liked the chapter.
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Date: 2006-03-12 07:24 pm (UTC)Those letter's for Harry were so cute, Anita's sounded just like her, and Nathaniel's and Jean Claude's letters were spot an as well. The pictures made me happy, and poor Harry...he's all confuzzled about the dream and the picture of him and Nathaniel. Harry just can't seem to get a break, can he? Especially now, what with the whole werewolf thingy that Snape shot at him. Git.
I hope Harry goes to St. Louis for Christmas, that would be so interesting. He could even manage to work things out with Nathaniel, and figure out about the dreams!! As for becoming an Animagus, it would be like, christmas come early if he changed into a wolf or large cat...that way his beast has an outlet and he can run with everyone at the Lupanar on the full moon!!
Ron...Ron's a git as well, and I think needs to have a large shock to knock him out of his stupidity. Like in book four after seeing Harry 'battle' the dragon, he stopped his stupidness of ignoring Harry. Or, Harry could just punch him. That'd work too! <33
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Date: 2006-03-12 11:19 pm (UTC)Nope, Harry can't catch a break. He's living break-free these days. All he needs now is to wake up as a girl, and... oops, I think I might have given away the end of the story.
Ron ... Honestly, I'm not sure what to do with Ron. Really. Oh, I know. I'll make him pregnant. Let's see Hermione figure out *that* one.
Yes, I'm in a strange mood.
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