Chapter 22
Dumbledore’s Assignment
Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the next few days in the library to find out more about Wulfric Gryffindor, though they hadn’t had much luck.
“I can’t believe it,” Hermione said in exasperation one sunny afternoon as she pulled a chair up next to the table where Harry was studying an especially gruesome Defense book, Extremely Vile and Horrendous Uses of the Dark Arts. “I’ve searched almost the entire library and this is the only thing I could find about Elm’s Hollow.” She opened a large tome she had been carrying entitled Ancient Lore and Mythology and read.
“Elm’s Hollow is the name of a small village purported to be the lifelong home of Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tradition holds that Gryffindor and other wizards of the village lived side by side in perfect harmony with Centaurs, Goblins, and non-magical peoples. Elm’s Hollow is believed to have been destroyed in the early 13th century, although its exact location is unknown.”
“Destroyed in the 13th century? So that means the place is probably buried under centuries of dirt and rock, and Wulfric Gryffindor along with it?”
“It’s likely. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a muggle city built over it, actually.”
Harry’s heart sank. How were they supposed to find Wulfric Gryffindor if the town he lived in had been destroyed 700 years ago? Searching for the Half-Blood Prince was one of the few things keeping him sane at this point, as it provided him with a way to fight back against Voldemort, even if it was indirectly.
Yet the cold outside wasn’t too bad compared to the frightful chill that Harry felt nearly every morning as news about the war arrived via the Daily Prophet. Every day brought another sobering reminder that he was the only one who could stop Voldemort, that he would have to face him someday. While other students were occupied with homework or Quidditch, Harry spent nearly every spare minute practicing defensive spells and researching in the library, looking for something, anything, that could help him defeat Voldemort. This didn’t go unnoticed by Ron and Hermione, who found it rather peculiar that for the first time since they had started at Hogwarts, Harry was spending more time in the library than Hermione. At first they hadn’t said anything about this, but as time went by and Harry withdrew himself more and more they seemed to know something was going on.
The truth was he didn’t want to tell Ron and Hermione the horrible secret he kept inside, the secret about the prophecy and Voldemort. He didn’t want to see the pain and fear on their faces as he revealed that he was the only one who could destroy Voldemort, that it was up to him to stop the war. Ron and Hermione were the only people in the entire school who treated him like a normal person, not like some celebrity or hero. Besides, he reasoned to himself constantly, telling would only cause pointless worry and anxiety. He had gotten through countless other challenges. He could handle this himself.
Luckily the DA club started and provided Harry with the perfect excuse for his neurotic studying. All he had to do was tell Ron and Hermione that he had a lesson to get ready and they wouldn’t ask any questions. Usually they would even offer to help. The DA also turned out to be a perfect outlet for Harry to vent some of the anxiety and tension he felt. Seeing his fellow students learn how to properly defend themselves gave an enormous sense of satisfaction, and for once he felt like he really was doing something to fight Voldemort. It seemed to be a hit with the students as well; the club was almost four times as large as it had been the previous year. Soon they even had to move into a larger classroom to accommodate all of them. All the original members who hadn’t been in their seventh year were there, with the exception (Harry noted with total disinterest) of Cho Chang and her friend Marianne Edgecrombe. The previous members each became a great help in trying to teach such a large group”Harry appointed each member to look after a group and work with them in each spell they were studying, saving him time. Professor Grendelhall was a tremendous help as well, offering pointers and giving advice when needed but mostly staying in the background.
(Insert Ravenclaw gag person here)Anthony Goldstein? Some Ravenclaw twerp that we would like to see in an embarrassing situation.
Despite the almost daily arrival of bad news from the Daily Prophet, however, Harry couldn’t help but notice a growing excitement and a sense of festivity among the students. The heavy atmosphere that had settled over the school seemed to lighten, and there was more laughter and lighthearted conversation among the students. At first Harry couldn’t place the reason for this”the war definitely wasn’t going any better”then it hit him.
The Halloween Ball.
Harry found this very annoying. With everything that was going on in the world it seemed the height of ridiculousness that the entire school, teachers included, would care about a stupid ball. He had decided at the beginning of the year that he would have nothing to do with dances or dating or girls, and the disgusting display of the students around him only strengthened this decision. Avoiding all of it proved to be more difficult than he thought, however, as girls (many of whom he didn’t even know) began cornering him in the corridors between classes and other places asking if he would go to the dance with them. Harry soon made it a point to walk around with Hermione or Ginny and Dean whenever possible. For some reason Ginny and Dean found this amusing.
“Oh come on, Harry, everyone knows you haven’t asked anyone out to the dance yet. It’s not like walking around with us is going to fool anyone,” Ginny said patiently after Harry joined them on the way to the Great Hall for dinner one evening.
“Honestly, Harry, what’s your problem? You could go with any girl in the school!” said Dean amusedly. “You know what? I reckon you’re just scared…”
“I’m not scared, all right?” Harry interrupted angrily, “I just don’t want to go.”
“Seriously Harry, don’t be such a git! There are loads of girls who would die to go with you! Why won’t you even give someone a chance?” said Ginny. Harry was taken aback by the slight edge of bitterness in her voice.
“I just don’t feel like going, all right? And would you mind talking a little bit lower?” he added in an undertone as Ginny’s loud voice had attracted the attention of more than one student walking through the corridor.
“Hey everyone! Harry needs a date for the Halloween Ball! Anyone want to go with Harry?” Dean started yelling to everyone in the corridor. More than a few heads looked up hopefully. Harry smacked a laughing Dean in the back of the head and ducked into a hidden passage behind a tapestry, seriously considering hiding in his dormitory until the whole thing was over.
The most pathetic spectacle came a few days later, however, when he and Ron were sitting at the Gryffindor table at lunch. Nearly everyone else had finished, and Ron, looking around as if he didn’t want anyone to hear, said, “Er…Harry, can I ask your advice on something?”
“Sure,” Harry replied, thinking it was probably about Quidditch or a spell they had been practicing in the DA.
“Well, uh…do you remember in our fourth year, when the Yule Ball was coming up and you got us dates with Parvati and Padma Patil?” His voice had the sort of forced-casual tone to it that told Harry this conversation was anything but casual.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Well...er,” Harry watched as his friend blushed furiously. He looked embarrassed”if he didn’t know any better Harry would have thought he was about to get asked to the dance.
“What is it?” he prodded.
Ron looked at him for a second, then lowered his gaze as if he were ashamed to make eye-contact. When he spoke it was little more than a mumble. “How do you ask a girl to a dance?”
“Say again?” said Harry, not sure he had heard him correctly.
This time Ron looked directly at him, his face full of sincerity and hopelessness. “How do you do it? How do you ask someone to a dance?”
Harry was completely taken back. This is what was on Ron’s mind? This is what he was worried about, asking a stupid girl out to a dance?
“You’re mental.”
Ron shifted uncomfortably, blushing the dark shade of purplish-red that could only be seen on an embarrassed Weasley. “I know, all right? I know! I am mental.” he hissed. “It’s just, I’ve never done it before, and…I’m nervous.”
Harry shook his head in disbelief. What he wouldn’t give to have asking a girl out be the biggest of his worries right now. It was pathetic. Trying his best to be patient, he answered.
“Here’s what you do. You walk up to the girl, and you say: ‘Hey, do you want to go to the dance with me?’ Then she gives you her answer. It’s complicated, I know, but I reckon you can handle it seeing as you’ve fought Death-Eaters and flying brains before.”
“I know, this is just…different,” Ron sighed ashamedly. “You’re right, I’ve just got to do it. I’ve just got to walk up and ask her.”
Harry watched his friend with a mixture of amusement and disgust. He had rarely seen Ron this nervous”it was more like he was getting ready to throw himself into a cave of dragons instead of talking to a human being. Whoever the girl was he must really like her if it had this much of an effect on him. Though Harry had a pretty good idea who it was…
“Well, good luck,” Harry said, not wanting to see his friend embarrass himself further. He collected his books and stood up to make his way to the Gryffindor common room so he could drop off his books and go to the library.
Ron looked up, startled. “Wait! Who’re you going with? Have you asked already?”
“I’m not going,” Harry said simply.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s a waste of time. There’re more important things to be doing.”
“What?” Ron asked incredulously, standing up to face him.
Harry sighed, trying to remain calm. Even Ron didn’t understand. Then again, how could he? He didn’t know what it was like to have the weight of the prophecy on his shoulders. The biggest stress he had right now was whether or not a girl would say “yes” when he asked them to the dance. The thought made Harry’s temper rise.
“I’m not going. Don’t you know what’s going on Ron? We’re in the middle of a war! Fine time to be prancing around like idiots,” he snapped.
Ron looked at him, startled. “Well yeah, but we can’t be fighting the war all the time”people need a break. YOU need a break, mate.”
“Haven’t you been reading the papers? Voldemort is out there. Voldemort! And all anyone cares about is who they’re going to ask to the dance, or what they’re going to wear, or how they’ll look. It’s absurd! I’ve got more important things to do and I’m not going.” With that he grabbed his bag, spun around and marched towards the door of the Great Hall. Ron watched him, his mouth hanging wide open.
He hadn’t gotten four steps when he was stopped by a petite Hufflepuff fifth year with curly blonde hair he had seen in the DA.
“Oh, hi Harry,” she said in a shaky, excited voice as she looked up nervously at him. “I was just wondering if you would like to…”
“GAHHH!” Harry yelled in exasperation, storming off before she could finish her sentence. He caught one final glimpse of Ron laughing at the table where he left him.
*****
“Now remember Harry; deep breaths, clear your mind, let emotions wash off of you like water poured over a rock. Nothing penetrates your serenity. You are the master of your mind. When you are ready we will begin.”
Harry took a deep breath and tried his best to clear his mind. He was in the headmaster’s office once again, trying his hardest to keep the old wizard out of his thoughts. Despite his early success with Occlumency during his first and second lessons, Harry was finding it more and more difficult to keep the headmaster out of his mind. In fact, the last few lessons had been horrendous. The current lesson wasn’t going any better.
It didn’t make sense”he had practiced the meditation and mind clearing exercises every morning and night and, with the exception of the outburst at Ron the previous week, he had been entirely in control of his emotions (which, truth be told, hadn’t been very hard on account of the vast amounts of time he had spent studying and practicing new spells to prepare himself to face Voldemort). For some reason, however, he had been completely unable to block his thoughts from Dumbledore.
Bracing himself again for the next attempt, Harry nodded at the headmaster and they began.
The images began to come freely. Innocent, harmless thoughts. It was morning, Harry was walking with Seamus and Ron along the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. He looked into the empty classrooms along the way…the blackboard in McGonagall’s transfiguration classroom, a bookshelf at the back of an old unused office. The bookshelf was full of empty jars and dusty old books. As he focused on the bookcase the shadows in the room seemed to grow, to envelop everything around them. The room faded, darkened. Slowly, almost imperceptibly it changed, the walls elongated and the shadows changed hue. The next thing he knew, Harry was picturing a tall room with a stone floor. The walls seemed to glow with a strange blue light. It was the room he had seen in Ravenclaw’s diary a few weeks before…The diary he was supposed to keep secret from Voldemort…The diary he was supposed to be hiding from Dumbledore right now…
“Damn!” Harry cursed, breaking eye contact with the headmaster. Dumbledore shook his head and began to pace towards his desk.
“I don’t understand professor. I’ve been practicing. I really have!” Harry said earnestly.
Dumbledore didn’t reply at first. He walked around to the front of the desk, his head bowed in thought. Leaning his tall, slender frame against the desk he folded his arms and placed a hand on his chin.
The silence making him feel more uncomfortable than any reprimand, Harry continued his defense. “I’ve even started doing the exercises three times a day since our last meeting, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. I swear I have!”
Dumbledore raised a hand. “I believe you Harry! I do.” He was silent for a few seconds more then looked up at Harry.
“I don’t think practice is your problem. Tell me this: Have you told anyone about the prophecy yet?”
“No,” Harry replied. “What does that have to do with this?”
Dumbledore shook his head and walked towards him. “A good deal.” He stopped next to the chair Harry was sitting in, leaned over and put his arm on his shoulder. “Harry, the burden you carry because of the prophecy is a heavy one. Too heavy to carry on your own. You must share it. I can feel the tension inside of you. You are wound so tight it is only a matter of time before you snap. That, I believe, is the reason you are unable to keep your thoughts hidden. As it is you will never be able to keep a legilimens out of your mind, much less a legilimens as skilled as Lord Voldemort.
Harry looked away. Burdening Ron and Hermione with the news about the prophecy was the last thing he wanted to do. It would only make them worry…
“They would want to know Harry. They would want to be burdened with this,” Dumbledore said in response to his thoughts. He removed his hand from his shoulder and stood to his full height.
“We will not be able to progress until you have unburdened yourself of this secret. You need to confide in those who care about you and whom you can trust. Until you have done so there is no reason for us to keep meeting. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Harry replied.
“You are dismissed then.”
Somewhat abashed, Harry made his way towards the rotating spiral staircase that led to the exit of Dumbledore’s office. The headmaster was right, of course, but that didn’t make telling his friends about the prophecy any easier. How could he tell them that he would have to murder or be murdered?
As he walked through the empty corridors, a feeling of frustration set over him. Not only had he been unable to pass the Occlumency test, but he had wanted to question the headmaster about the blue room he had seen at the end of Ravenclaw’s diary. Now it looked like they would both have to wait.
And tell Ron and Hermione about the prophecy? The thought made him uncomfortable. Surely there had to be another explanation for his failure to keep Dumbledore out of his head? Hadn’t he been through more already than most adult wizards in their entire life? And hadn’t he been able to handle it all? Surely he could keep this secret and not burden his friends. Though he tried to convince himself of this, a small part of him knew that he should share the secret. Knew he would feel better once it had come out. There was no avoiding it. He had never kept anything from them for very long; how could he possibly go on with something this big? Besides hadn’t Dumbledore all but ordered him to share the prophecy with him? Did he really have a choice?
By the time he reached the fat-lady’s portrait, Harry had convinced himself that telling them was the best thing to do. He didn’t know what he was going to say, maybe he would just tell them about the night’s lesson and it would come up naturally. His heart began to race as he gave the password and stepped through the open portrait hole. At first it was difficult to spot them, as the common room seemed to be more crowded than usual, but then he spotted them towards the far side of the room.
Harry began to walk towards them. They were sitting next to each other on a couch on the left side of the room. As he made his way across the room he had to dodge a pair of giggling fourth-year girls, then nearly knocked over a nervous-looking third year boy who hadn’t even noticed Harry was right in front of him. The boy mumbled a distracted apology, then approached another group of giggling girls, one of whom was blushing furiously. What was going on? And why was the common room so crowded? He hadn’t noticed it at first, but now that he was looking around Harry could tell something was going on. There was a sort of nervous excitement in the air, the type of excitement that usually accompanied a Quidditch match. What was going on?
Then it hit him. A hot prick of annoyance hit him as he looked around and realized what was going on. The giggling, the staring, the anxious glances, the slightly nervous conversations…The Halloween Ball. It was tomorrow. He had completely forgotten.
Wanting to get out of the common room as soon as possible, Harry looked over to where Ron and Hermione were sitting. His stomach sunk at what he saw. Ron was sitting strangely close to Hermione, their knees were almost touching. There was a strange formalness about the way they were talking to each other. Ron nodded attentively at everything she said. Hermione smiled nervously back when he spoke, as if they were getting to know each other for the first time.
Almost instantly the desire to share the prophecy disappeared. He couldn’t tell them now, not with the excitement of the ball foremost in their minds. Thinking it had been a stupid idea anyway, Harry walked through the common room, climbed the stairs to the dormitory, and went to bed.
Harry Potter and the Legacy of the Founders by VoldemortsPatronus
Chapter Notes: The trio researches Wulfric Gryffindor and shares more ideas. Harry finds something even more frustrating and distracting than the war with Voldemort....