Chapter 22
Mind Your P’s And Q’s
“Y ou’re blocking my sun!” Hermione swatted playfully at Ron, who had found the prefect patch of grass on which to lie on. “How am I supposed to get anything done if I can’t see?”
“Easy, do it later.” Ron stretched back further, propping himself up on his elbow at just the right angle to cast a large shadow over the text of Hermione’s well-used tome of Runes. There was just the hint of satisfied smugness in Ron’s expression.
“This is later.” And with that, Hermione pushed his forearm down so that his head would no longer get in her way.
“Fine, you work, I’ll just and relax for the both of us.” Rolling fully onto his back, Ron tucked his hands behind his head and took a deep breath of the mild late-spring air.
“You’re such a gentleman, Ron,” Ginny called out from the beech tree.
“Whatever,” he lazily returned, crossing his ankles.
“I hope you burn,” she shot back. “And you get a thousand new freckles!”
“He won’t,” Harry said dully. “Hermione won’t let him, even if his big head is blocking her light.”
“Well, at least you’re being a gentleman, Mr. Potter,” Ginny said with a wink. “Willing to spend time with his girlfriend, helping her study until her brain explodes.”
“Like I have a choice in the matter.” Harry smirked, but quickly changed the subject. “Ready for the next question?”
“Fire away,” Ginny sighed. “Only two hundred and sixty-three to go.”
Harry quickly shuffled through the note cards Ginny had written throughout the year, a studying tip she learned from Hermione. “Nope, only seven left.”
“Nice try, Potter.” Ginny rested her head against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes, starting the second hour of study on an otherwise perfect Saturday afternoon.
Days like these were getting few and far between. The rain had finally stopped, though the lake had risen a good six feet over its banks and the wind still had a bit of a nip to it. Like the sun, however, bright and beautiful in the clear, azure blue sky, it could not quite break the lingering spell of winter, though it was already well into May.
Over the past six weeks, Harry put extra effort into the D.A. lessons with Dumbledore, and all the rest of his classes. Quidditch, for once, took a back seat, even with the championship on the line yet again. And despite feeling like he had melted into a large puddle of something questionable at the bottom of his cauldron by the end of most days, Harry would burn the midnight oil in the common room, with Ginny by his side and the latest letter in his hand.
“Here.” Harry let the first page of the letter dated July 31st 1981, slip into her line of sight. Ginny was snuggled up next to him like she always did, like a cat curling up for the night, making herself comfortable where ever she pleased. Queen of the Castle ” or at least the common room.
“What’s this?” she asked, reaching up towards the parchment.
“Something you might like.” Harry pulled it back just as she was about to touch it and sighed. “On second thought…”
“May I read it?” Ginny pushed herself up off his side and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Really?”
“Sure, you’ll get a kick out of this.” Harry gave it to her this time. Ginny had an expression of reverent excitement and uncertainty. “Its okay, Ginny, I want you to read this.”
“But, you’ve never-”
“I know.” Harry kissed her forehead. “I just wanted the first bits to be for me alone. It’s hard to explain.”
“No, I understand completely. Are you sure you want to share them with me now?” Ginny held the parchment in her lap, not chancing a glance without Harry’s absolute blessing on the matter.
“Unless you’re offended by the content,” Harry teased, laughing as Ginny’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Halfway down the page I’m running starkers with bits of cake and frosting all over me.”
“And you want me to read it?”
“Why not? After that tub picture, it can’t be any worse than actually seeing it.” Harry still had to fight off a slight blush.
Ginny scooted over to the opposite end of the couch, making a semi-private cubby to enjoy such sordid details.
“Don’t get too excited.” He settled back down against the arm of the sofa.
“Shh!” Ginny waved him off. “I’m reading.”
He smiled and started on the second page.
I have no idea of how your father managed to catch you. And all the while, he didn’t believe me that you could toddle so fast. I suppose it didn’t help the fact that I was laughing so much that I couldn’t stand up straight, and your father tried so hard to keep it together as well. He kept tripping over himself every time he would attempt to sweep you up into his arms. Once he had grabbed a hold of you, but lost his grip, too much frosting! Oh, that was definitely one of the…
“No way!” Ginny’s whispered exclamation stopped him. “I can believe you did that ”the whole thing?”
“Yes, and the saga continues on page two.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows provocatively and started reading again.
“I could imagine Fred or George doing something like this but””
“Shh!” Harry did not bother to look up and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I’m reading.” That little comment earned him a kick to his right shin, causing it to throb slightly. It was well worth the price.
Without a doubt, this had been one of the happiest times his parents had written about. After having nine years of forgotten birthdays, it was satisfying to know that the one he did share with his parents had been worth every inch of smeared frosting his one-year-old self could manage. He only wished he could remember it but the commentaries in his mother’s own words were a treasure he would not soon forget.
“Are you done yet?” Ginny tapped his thigh with her foot and held out her hand.
“No.” Harry pulled the letter closer to him, but kept an eye on Ginny. “Someone keeps bothering me.”
“Oh, I’m bothering you now, am I?” Ginny huffed.
“Yes, you are.” Harry held the letter so close that he was barely able to see Ginny’s approaching figure and positioned his feet firmly on the floor in case he needed a quick getaway.
“Is this bothering you?” She had slid over to the middle cushion; she was getting much too close.
“Are you done with that?” He asked dryly, not taking the bait.
“Yes, thank you.” She handed him the first page and sidled even closer, ready to pounce in a blink of an eye.
Slowly he folded up the letter and placed it in back inside the box, locking it with the key like he always did. Harry carefully leaned back into the sofa. Everything was peaceful and quiet, the calm before the storm.
“No, you don’t!” Harry had launched himself up off the couch just as Ginny sprang towards him, missing her target.
“Think you’re still fast then, do you Potter?” Ginny taunted, they were now on either side of the couch. “Think you can catch me?”
“Catch you?” Harry laughed. “I thought you were trying to catch me.”
“I’ve already caught you.” Ginny smirked, leaning on the upholstered arm.
“That you have.” He shrugged, pretending to be completely indifferent. “But not tonight.”
“Any rules?” Ginny asked as they maneuvered around the sofa and the end tables. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of cheating.”
“No wands.” Harry shot off towards another furniture grouping. “Stay in the common room.”
“Uh!” Ginny whined, moving to the left of him. “You’ve never had the honor of receiving one of my bat-bogey hexes and I was so hoping to show you.”
“Very funny, Ginny,” he hissed as his already abused shin connected with the corner of a very solid, low table. “No whining and no mercy.”
“No mercy, are you sure you want to take it that far?” Ginny kept to his left, weaving in and out of the study tables and chairs. “Is that a wise decision, Mr. Potter?”
“Sure it is, as long as I’m not on the receiving end, which I won’t be,” he said smugly, countering Ginny’s move.
“There’s that ego again.” She flashed a wicked smile and bolted to the right, forcing Harry back to where he had just come from.
“It’s not ego, it’s the truth,” he shot back, taunting her even more.
“Yes, The-Boy-Who-Lived,” she sighed matter-of-factly, but advanced quickly towards him, causing Harry to take a few blind steps behind. “The famous Harry Potter, I’ve heard it all before, complete and utter rubbish, if you ask me.”
“Are you going to catch me or not?” He stood his ground and watched her step up and onto a wooden chair that blocked her way. Something about her glowed and he could not take his eyes off her. This was more than just a simple game of tag, but what it was exactly, he was not sure. “Or are you just going to keep talking until I’ve nodded off out of sheer boredom?”
Ginny stared right back, dangling her foot off the edge of her perch, ignoring his latest jab. “So tell me, how did it end?”
“You wouldn’t let me finish,” Harry scoffed, not breaking the distance between them. “Mum said that I kept slipping out of Dad’s grip.”
“All the frosting?” Ginny gracefully hopped off the chair as Harry hummed his reply. “Doesn’t look so good for you now.”
Like an unfortunate mouse, he knew he was being toyed with, but had no intentions of giving up so soon.
“I’m confident.” Harry again stepped backwards, he would have to break left or right and waited for the right moment to scurry away.
“Maybe the rags are right.” Ginny took a seat on the end of the last study table, crossing her legs at the knee and bouncing her free leg. It was all very nonchalant.
“If you have a problem with it...” Harry took his chance and darted left just behind an old pair of gold tasseled, upholstered chairs and a small reading table that was nestled up against the stairwell to the dormitories. After three swift steps, he found himself hitting the floor with a dull thud, his right shoulder taking the brunt of the fall.
“No, I don’t have a problem with it.” Ginny leisurely examined her hand, legs still crossed and bouncing, “But I think you’re the one with the problem.”
And she was right.
Not ready to give in just yet, he kept quiet and struggled with whatever it was hampering his escape, pathetically hoping beyond hope that she had not noticed he was having difficulties.
“Hmm.” Finally deciding the time was right, Ginny strolled over and squatted down by his legs in what little room was left. “I think you’re caught, Mr. Potter. There’s no where for you to go.”
Knowing that he was not going to be able to crawl out fast enough, Harry looked ahead of him and played his final card. Keep her talking.
“It was my mistake.” He pulled himself up, careful to keep his arms behind him and his knees bent so if the opportunity came, he could take it. “It must have been all the dust.”
“No, I knew this would happen.” Ginny leaned in closer, “Fred and George dropped one of their Slipspots over the banister during their fifth year. That’s why these chairs are here.”
“Nice try.” Harry slid back, gaining ground. There wasn’t a whole lot of room, at least not for the both of them.
“No, really. They warned me about it.” She smirked, watching him intently. Ginny reached over his waist, her upper body straddling him as she moved closer and whispered near his ear, “It was planned.”
“A likely story.” He sat up a little more and tried to scoot out from under her, careful not to make contact. As it was, the mouse was caught between ginger paws.
“If that’s what you want to believe. Whatever makes you sleep better at night,” she replied cheekily, the glint in her eyes told him there was more to it than that. “I’m not going to ask you again, Harry… Mercy?”
“Never!” With his defiant declaration, he pushed himself towards the triangular gap and the wide-open freedom of the common room, but he did not make it far. Ginny had held onto his belt, bringing his sudden burst of momentum to a screeching halt.
Trying to keep quiet, Harry squirmed, gasping as she dug her fingers in just above his hip, tickling him. He had no idea that such a place existed, that it would cause him to twitch like that. Before he knew it, it was over. Ginny repositioned and began the second barrage, this time with his ribs, with renewed ferocity. She had successfully pinned his arm between her and the floor, aided conveniently by the wall. Harry suspected that the years of enduring the wrath of six older brothers was coming in handy at this very moment. He was caught; mercy was not his to be had. He was losing his resolve and then it broke.
In one swift move, he freed his arm and rolled out from under Ginny, sweeping her around, effectively trading places. The slip residue that she had used to undo him was now her own undoing.
“Oh, no,” Ginny pleaded, realizing that the tables had turned. “No, you don’t.”
His face was flushed, his brow damp, and his breathing ragged; trying to recover himself from Ginny’s incessant torture. Harry watched her wriggle beneath him. Her red, tangled hair splayed against the cool gray stone, her chest rising and falling. Ginny’s eyes danced wildly as they gazed back into his, all the while careful not to use their bond. It was he who had been caught; there was no question about it. Then with all the playfulness and wanting that lingered just below the surface throughout the evening, he kissed her. Yes indeed, it was good to be the mouse.
When they finally broke apart, finding the awkwardness of the situation rather amusing, Harry carefully helped a giggling Ginny to her feet. She slid out from behind the seating area, twisting her hair up on top of her head, exposing her soft neckline as she ambled back to the sofa near the fire. “Just so we’re clear, I won.”
Harry followed her, stopping short of his destination, watching as she let her hair fall back down.
“Thanks,” he whispered, his tone was suddenly sober.
“For what?” she asked, picking up her book bag from off the floor and shouldering the thick straps.
“You,” he said simply, some of the flush returning to his cheeks. “It’s just, reading the letter tonight, I mean…” Ginny smiled, encouraging him to go on. “My parents were happy then, at least for one night, I made them happy.”
“Of course you did.” Ginny picked up the mahogany box from off the coffee table. “They loved you. You meant the world to them.” She kissed his cheek and handed him the box.
“I know, it’s just that ”” Harry stumbled, finding just the right words. “I wouldn’t have known any of this. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if they were still here. I see your family, how they treat each other, how happy everyone is ” together.”
“I don’t know about that.” Ginny chuckled, easing some of the tension. “We’ve been close to hexing one another into oblivion on more than one occasion. You’ve been a witness to at least a few, I’m sure.”
“That’s just it. They’re happy and I never thought I could be.” Harry grabbed her full attention with his eyes. “Ron and Hermione are my best mates, I love them. I see your brothers and in some odd way pretend they’re mine. Your mum and dad, they’ve been like ””
“Parents.” He could feel Ginny’s patience with him and what he was trying to say.
“Dumbledore, Hagrid, even McGonagall in a way… Lupin, Sirius.” He looked down at the box tucked inside his arms and sighed. “Even my parents ” nobody means ” no one has…” A small tear escaped the corner of Ginny’s eye. “You make me happy, Gin, more than I deserve to be. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have known ” if it wasn’t for you ””
“No.” She tipped up on her toes and kissed his scar, a constant reminder of what he had survived, against all odds. “If it wasn’t for you, Harry.”
It was three days before O.W.L. exams and the general mood of the fifth year students was grim. He remembered hearing all the nervous mumblings of facts and spells as over-anxious students paced the halls reciting them. And the legend that some students would get so worked up that Madam Pomfrey had to hospitalize them, causing them to miss their exams, or at least reschedule them, was still alive and well. Although he highly doubted anyone would actually miss their exams. Ginny, for the most part, was taking it in stride. But this was not one of those times. Harry knew that she would need all the studying she could get, if only to ease her nerves. He had complete confidence that Ginny would do remarkably well either way.
“Hey, Neville.” Harry entered the sixth year dorm and found his friend easing his Mimbulus mimbletonia plant into a large paper sack. “Did it die?”
“No, not at all,” Neville breathed out, the tip of his tongue peeked through his lips in concentration. When he released his precious cargo, Neville gently folded the opening of the bag over and creased it shut. “It’s reproducing, sort of.”
‘That’s nice.” Harry started to regret the topic of conversation. “Is that what all of those pustules were a few weeks ago?”
“Yep.” Neville stood back and checked to see its position in the window. “It needs to stay in the dark. That way I can milk it.” Apparently the look on Harry’s face demanded an explanation. “I sent an owl to Uncle Algie and he suggested that I do this. The secretions during the reproductive stages of the Mimbletonia contain highly potent restoring serum.”
“What does it restore?” Harry asked, flipping open his trunk.
“Loads, I guess.” Neville seemed both confident and unsure at the same time.
“You guess?” Harry retrieved the Marauders map from the side of his trunk.
“We’re not really sure.” Deciding that his Mimbletonia was sufficiently shaded from the sun, he continued. “Professor Sprout suggested that we give some to Madam Pomfrey, to see if she can use it for something. It should be ready in a couple of weeks, give or take a few days.”
“I suppose it is all a guess.” Harry settled into his four-poster with his map in one hand and a leftover Chocolate Frog from the last Hogsmeade trip.
“It’s the best we got.” Neville shrugged. “Besides, if it doesn’t work this time, there’s always another try in two years.”
“You have to wait two years?” Harry mumbled; the packaging was being stubborn so he tried to open it with his teeth.
“Yeah, two years from now.” Neville took his wand from off the nightstand and pocketed it, getting ready to leave the room. “That’s why they’re so rare and it’s hard to find information on them.”
“Good luck with it then.” Harry held the charmed frog in his hands as it struggled to free itself.
“Thanks, see you around, Harry.” Neville grinned and headed for the stairs.
After pledging the oath to the Marauder’s Map, Harry searched it over. First, he was looking for Ginny who happened to be in the library, along with Luna, Colin, and a few other fifth years for a crash study session before O.W.L.’s. Next on the list was Malfoy. He scanned the Slytherin common room, the dorms, and then he searched the rest of the dungeon to no avail. After ten minutes of tediously following the small labeled dots around the castle and discovering that an unnamed dot was after all a bit of smeared chocolate, Harry found his mark.
Headed down from the castle, along the trail to the outer gates was Draco, Snape, and Narcissa. A little reunion. Harry snorted and swallowed the last bit of frog. He watched as the dots slowly wound their way down the hillside, stopping briefly at the gate before the dot labeled ‘Narcissa Malfoy’ disappeared.
I’d love to know what that conversation was about. Harry continued to watch as the two remaining dots inched up the parchment and back into the castle, going their separate ways once entering the main doors; Malfoy to the Prefects bathroom on the fifth floor and Snape back to the dungeons.
Harry then looked for the whereabouts of Ron and Hermione, who were supposedly on prefect duties, although Harry tried to turn a blind eye to what was really going on. In all fairness, Ron was taking the fact that his best mate and his baby sister were involved, all magical bonding set aside. Luckily, he found their dots climbing the fifth floor staircase on the way to Gryffindor tower.
“Did you know Malfoy’s mummy came for a visit?” were the first words out of Ron’s mouth upon entering the dorm.
“Yep.” Harry smirked.
“You know everything with that map.” Ron’s face fell in mock disappointment before it lit up again. “But you don’t know what they said.”
“And we do.” Hermione joined in with a wink, causing Harry to salivate with potential news. “But don’t get too excited.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t about his academic career.” Harry swung his legs around the side of the bed to make room for Ron and Hermione to take a seat. “And…”
“It sounded like they were having a bit of a row.” Ron took the foot of the bed and gently pulled Hermione down in front of him.
“Too bad I missed that one.” Harry could imagine the scene as it played out. “What did Malfoy do this time?”
“It was the other way around,” Hermione said, her eyebrows arched high on her forehead.
“What?”
“Malfoy was getting after his mum,” Ron started. “He was upset with her, telling her that she shouldn’t””
“And Professor Snape took his mother’s side,” Hermione broke in. “All we were able to hear in the hall, before they rounded the corner, was him saying something to the effect that ‘things are in place’ and ‘to do for her’.”
“Something’s up.” Harry’s mind was racing at the latest news. “Snape, Malfoy, and his mother are planning something.”
“Well Dumbledore has to know.” Hermione hit the brakes. “They were coming from the Headmaster’s office.”
“Maybe not.” Ron shrugged.
“Ron, Mrs. Malfoy would have to be invited to Hogwarts. Dumbledore knows,” Hermione dismissed his suggestion.
“Whether Dumbledore knows or not, the question is why?” Harry bit his lip in concentration. “Let’s get this straight. Malfoy pretends to be Dean, to get Ginny to get me. Says it was for his father who’s escaped out of Azkaban. Snape says that Malfoy’s been set straight””
“Then he sends Hermione cryptic notes, warning her that the Death Eaters were about to attack,” Ron added to the list of events.
“Which they did,” Hermione finished. “But Dumbledore didn’t know about it so Malfoy wasn’t telling him, unless he didn’t know how to or if there wasn’t enough time.”
“What would his motivation be?” Ron asked. “Why? What’s in it for him?”
“The Dark Mark?” Harry scoffed.
“Harry, that’s not helping.” Hermione sighed. “If Professor Snape says he’s not as he put it, ‘his father’s son’, then he’s not. He did warn me, after all.”
“Like that’s a reason to believe it ” because Snape said so,” Harry returned.
“I’d be mad at Mum if she was doing something I didn’t like,” Ron said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t want her running about, tracking Death Eaters for the Order or something like that. Quite honestly, I’m glad she’s at home.”
“Me too,” Harry agreed. “But the Malfoys are Death Eaters. Every single one of them.”
“So maybe it’s the other way around?” Ron threw out the possibility.
“I don’t know.” Hermione shook her head, “All we’ve got are more questions than what we have answers to.”
Friday, like always, was blissfully painful. Ron, Hermione, and Harry took their usual spot in the dungeon amid the cauldrons and jars of grotesque, unknown ingredients for the double-session class.
Harry had assumed that Snape would be in a better mood; the previous class happened to be fifth years, and he wouldn’t put it past him to twist the already knotted students just for the pleasure of watching them squirm. Unfortunately, he was wrong. The hook-nosed Potions Master was even more abrupt, more scathing than Harry thought possible in a classroom setting.
“Veritaserum. The extra ingredients are on the front table,” Snape sneered to his pupils. “Samples of your progress by the end of class, you should know where they go.”
Hermione dared to raise her hand.
“Forget it,” Ron whispered out the side of his mouth but it was too late.
“Miss Granger.” Snape leaned over the head table, his beady black eyes narrowing on her. “Just. Do. It.”
“Yes, Professor,” she muttered, slowly lowering her hand in retreat.
“What was that about?” Harry asked under his breath as he watched Snape glide through the stone archway to his office and private stores.
“With him?” Ron set his Potions book on the table and started flipping through it to find the instructions for Veritaserum. “Anything.”
“You won’t find it in there.” Hermione shook her head. “It’s just appeared on the board.”
“Oh.” He stashed it back into his bag. “Why are we making this if it’s not in the course book?”
“Do you really have to ask?” Harry replied dryly. “Since when did Snape make life easy?”
“Harry, we’re not supposed to be able to make this.” Hermione got out her scales and neatly lined up her supplies. “It’s a controlled potion, and you have to have at least a N.E.W.T. level in Potions to be able to make it.”
“You didn’t shy away from making Polyjuice Potion in our second year,” Ron smirked, reading the chalky instructions. “Besides, it says that it needs a full moon cycle to make, so there’s no way we can finish.”
“Still, I don’t like it.” Hermione uncapped the first vial of ingredients and sloshed its yellow, congealed contents into her cauldron, completing step one.
Harry, while squatting down until he was eye level with his scale, careful to make the exact measurement sighed. “At least he’s not making things worse by being here.”
“I’m not complaining.” Ron lit a small fire under his cauldron. “I might actually be able to do something right for a change.”
“I’ll be right back. I need to get some…” Harry squinted at the instructions, “essence of Lilium Longiflorum, or whatever it is were supposed to put in this.”
He made his way to the front of the dungeon and the long table with the ingredients displayed in tight formation. Harry quickly browsed the regiments: Bulbadox powder, Fluxweed, Nex syrup, Abyssinian Shrivel fig, Lilium, Lionfish spears.
Harry couldn’t help but peer into the background of Snape’s office; after coming up with hundreds of conclusions to Narcissa’s recent visit, any chance to get more information was worth it. He could see him rifling through a large bundle of parchment. His greasy black hair kept Harry from his view as it draped in front of his eyes. Pretending that he was examining the vials, Harry watched as Snape, who apparently had found what he was looking for, stashed a slip of parchment into his robe pocket. Not wanting to get caught spying on a Professor, especially Snape, Harry fumbled with a box of Bicorn horns.
“I believe this is what you need, Potter?” Snape hissed and he reached the table, grabbing a vial of Lilium and thrusting it into his hand.
“Yes, Professor.”
“Now get back to work.” Those were his final words.
Snape had left the dungeon.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, the Potions prison was shrouded in a fine, water-like mist. The entire room seemed to be one big mirage. Most of the students’ cauldrons were emitting large, frequent spurts of vapor and since there wasn’t a description of what this stage would look-like; Hermione guessed that they were either all on the right track, or they each made the same mistake.
“Five minutes.” Harry wiped his brow, taking a quick break from whipping his solution as per the instructions. Ron was one step behind and Hermione had already finished her sample and was jamming on the cork.
“That was the best Potions class ever.” Ron led the trio up the stairs, “Three minutes of Professor Snape! You know, I think I’d be better at it if he wasn’t there at all.”
“I know I would,” Harry agreed entirely. “I think I did alright. At least my sample wasn’t chartreuse like Malfoy’s. I have to admit, seeing his glow made it much more enjoyable.”
“It’s not like Professor Snape to leave us on our own, especially with directions ” even though they were partial ” for such a complicated potion as Veritaserum.” Hermione joined in the conversation, stirring up more issues than either he or Ron wanted to deal with. “It was all rather odd.”
“Odd or not, I still don’t have a problem with it.” Ron, still in the lead, weaved his way through the oncoming flow of students. “Did you get the new password?”
“Yep.” Harry replied, “I gave it to Ginny just after lunch. She’ll meet us later.”
Within minutes they were climbing the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s office, the heavy oak door was ajar. Harry gave his usual knock and nudged the door open, expecting Dumbledore’s usual salutation of ‘good afternoon’. Instead, the three of them stood fixed in the doorway. Professor Dumbledore was seated at this desk and sitting on the opposite side, filling one of five chairs, was none other than Snape.
“Good afternoon, Harry.” Dumbledore broke the silence. “Please, come in and join us. Professor Snape has some information that I believe will be of great use.”
Giving a halfhearted smile, Harry returned the pleasantries and defiantly sat in the seat next to Snape. Hermione left room for Ginny to his right, while she and Ron finished off the row.
“Professor, is everything all right?” Harry asked. “Something hasn’t happened, has it?”
“Everything for the moment is well.” Dumbledore tugged at his white beard. “I think you’ll agree once Professor Snape has a chance to explain things.”
“What about?” Harry asked. There was no way he was going to share any information with Snape if he could help it.
“In due time, Harry. I’ve sent for Miss Weasley, she should be joining us shortly.” Harry knew that this was going to be a long afternoon when Dumbledore reached for the tin and offered it up to the group, “In the meantime, lemon drop?”
“I can’t believe it.” Ron shook his head, the sun dipped low on the horizon, causing his hair to look as if it were on fire. “Why didn’t I see it? It was all right there in front of us the whole time.”
“Dumbledore didn’t even see it.” Hermione flipped through another large tome, this one happened to be titled, Beyond Darkness, Principles of Moste Evil Magic that was lent to her by Professor Snape of all people. “Of course he had his suspicions, but…”
“What I don’t understand, Harry, is how did he know?” Ginny asked, “How did he find out?”
“I suppose Dumbledore told him.” Harry was lying face up on the grass, his head resting in Ginny’s lap as she leaned against a large boulder. The quartet had settled into one of the many small depressions around the upper castle grounds, finding a bit of privacy amongst the jubilant population of the fifth year and seventh year students now that they had finished their last day of exams. “I’m surprised that he did though, I thought that Dumbledore would have kept it just between us or certain members of the Order on a need-to-know basis.”
“Professor Snape is in the Order,” Hermione gently reminded him.
“You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.” Ron turned the page for Hermione and scanned the list of cruel and unusual jinxes and spells that he was thought were a shoo-in for an Unforgivable.
“Maybe Dumbledore didn’t tell him?” Ginny laced her fingers with Harry’s. “Maybe he used Legilimency.”
“I would have known,” Harry sighed. “He couldn’t have.”
“Harry?” Ron asked. “I know you’ve told us all before, but can you tell us again, exactly, everything that happened that night, as you saw it?”
Hermione looked to Ron and back to Harry and Ginny, “Yes, tell us exactly what happened, every detail, even if you think its nothing.”
“Where do you want me to start?” Harry replied dully, the last thing he wanted to do was to relive that night again but understood that neither Ron nor Hermione would ask him if it wasn’t important.
“From the time you touched the blanket.” Hermione picked the spot.
He took a deep, cleansing breath and closed his eyes, preparing for what he was about to recount for the third time since returning from Godric’s Hollow; the first being that day in his parents’ bedroom, and the second recital to Dumbledore during lessons the following Friday. It had been almost two months.
“I saw my dad in the doorway and then he was dead. He didn’t even have to think about it, the Killing Curse ” Dad didn’t stand a chance.” Harry’s voice was dull and void of emotions. He knew he had to keep it together and this was the only way he knew how. “My mum was scared ” she held me close in her arms and paced back and forth in front of the crib. She started whispering something but stopped when she heard the footsteps on the stairs.”
“Harry, did you hear the steps?” Hermione asked. She had her quill in one hand and a blank piece of parchment in the other.
“Yes.” Harry squinted, keeping his eyes closed as the thought back. “I could hear them.”
“You didn’t see him coming up the stairs or his memory of it?” Ron asked.
“No, I just heard...” Harry paused and that thought back harder, “I saw the door. He used a spell to open it.”
“Then what happened?” Squeezing his hand, Ginny helped him along.
“Mum put me in the crib and faced him. He laughed. She didn’t have a wand.”
“Can you see him?” Hermione whispered. “Are you watching from the crib?”
“I’m him.” Harry’s voice was cold. “Mum was pale but she didn’t flinch. She kept glancing behind me ” him ” and to the left, like she was looking for something. He was going to kill her but something changed his mind.”
“What changed his mind?” Ginny breathed the question that was on everyone’s lips.
Harry thought harder, trying to recall the extra details inside his own head he had never known were there before, but was coming up short. “I don’t know, he killed her anyway, does it matter?”
“Something changed his mind, at least for a moment, about killing your mother.” Ron was in strategy mode, delving into the twists and turns of Voldemort’s psychotic motivations. “You said that he didn’t think twice about killing your dad. So why stop with your mum, especially when you were right there, virtually unprotected?”
“I don’t know.” Harry opened his eyes and looked upwards in frustration. “I don’t know why. I don’t even know why I can see it happen from both views.”
“Dumbledore says that it has to do with your scar ”” Hermione was the first to remind him.
“And the smoky snake thing,” Ron said, putting the pieces together.
“Hi, Ronald.” The misty voice belonging to none other than Luna Lovegood broke the tension. “Hello, Hermione, Ginny.”
Luna’s greeting was followed by Neville’s, who was carrying a pair of garden shears and had a pair of thick dragon hide gloves tucked inside his front jean pockets. “Hey, guys.”
“What are you two up to?” Ginny asked pleasantly, although slightly surprised by the intrusion.
“I told Luna I’d help her pick some Dagger’s Brush.” Neville shrugged. “Professor Sprout said that I could find some on the west side of the castle.”
“Have you seen them?” Luna asked enthusiastically. “My dad just published an article in lasts month’s issue of The Quibbler, about Schugalnerfs, they’re microscopic creatures that ” Harry?”
“Yeah?” he answered, only vaguely startled by her abrupt change of thought.
The blond fifth year looked him straight in the eye and said very seriously, “You need to be kissed.”
Harry was completely floored by such a statement; it wasn’t at all what he was expecting. Rather smoothly, Ginny answered for him. “I already got that covered, Luna, but thanks.”
“You do?” Luna looked between her and Harry, who was blushing madly, it was quite the contrast to the angst-ridden expression he had earlier, given the subject matter of their discussion. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Ron groaned and rolled his eyes. “And it’s not a pretty sight.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” Luna agreed, wrinkling up her button nose. “But it needs to be done.”
“Uh, we’ll see you later,” Neville stammered, another victim of embarrassment. “We better get going, Luna, we need to get back before it gets dark.”
“See you later.” Ginny smiled, holding back her giggle.
“Good luck.” Hermione offered as the pair waved them off. “You never know what to expect, do you?”
“No, you don’t. That’s what makes it interesting.” Ginny snickered, “Should we snog now or later? If Luna says””
“Later.” Harry shook his head, but slipped in a wink.
“I don’t want to hear about it.” Ron grimaced, reading through Hermione’s notes. “All right, so you don’t know why he didn’t ” you know. So what stopped him?”
“No.”
“You said that your mum was looking around to the side of him, why?” Hermione asked.
“For a way out? Trying to find something to use? Maybe her wand was on the nightstand or something?” Harry was grasping at straws.
“I couldn’t have been her wand.” Hermione quickly shot down the idea. “If it was, she would have gotten it before he ” before Voldemort ” found her.”
“What did Voldemort say to her?” Ginny quietly asked. “Something about not needing to””
“That she didn’t have to die,” Harry finished for her. “That it would be silly for her to sacrifice herself for me. She begged him to take her, to trade for me.”
“But he did it anyway.” Hermione scribbled something down.
“Dumbledore said that your mother’s blood protected you.” Ron was back in form with a little help from Ealred. “Was that by her dying?”
“I guess so. I never really thought about it.” Harry plucked a blade of grass and began to pull it in half down the center. “It’s the whole reason I have to return to the Dursleys every summer, because my aunt has my mother’s blood… or is my mother’s sister. Something like that.”
“You mum was good at Charms, wasn’t she?” Hermione smiled, she could relate to Lily, being a witch born to Muggle parents.
“Yeah, Lupin, Sirius… everyone said she was good at Charms.”
“Did she say anything before ” before it happened?” Ron flipped through the book Moste Evil again.
“I don’t think so.” Harry was feeling like this was getting him painfully nowhere and by now he had lost his willingness to keep going back.
“Please, Harry?” Hermione put down her quill. “I think we may be on to something.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Harry took off his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms into his closed eyes and tried to picture it all in his head again. This time it came as flashes, each piece separated individually out of the whole. He could see his crib ” the color of the walls ” the rug that hid his parent’s letters ” the brass knob of the door ” the curve of the bed. He could smell his mother ” the smell of something burnt ” feeling cold ” sick ” perverse. He sank further in, willingly drowning himself in it. His scar flickered ” he looked to his right ” black ” thick ” screams.
“Harry!”
His eyes flew open, it was Ginny. She was leaning over him, her warm hands on either side of his face, ready to use their bond if needed. He could see the blurry forms of Ron and Hermione hovering nearby as well, both echoing Ginny’s concern.
“Don’t.” He abruptly swatted her hands away, keeping her from touching him any longer and sat bolt upright. “It’s him. I did it.”
“Did what?” Ron asked, not missing a beat.
“I went to him, I didn’t mean it, but I did.” He watched Ginny, afraid of what her reaction might be, sorry that he had been so harsh. “I know.”
“Are you sure?” Ron studied him. “Is it the truth?”
“Yes, I only got part of it though, before he knew I was there.” Harry blinked his watery eyes and gently touched his now throbbing scar. “He wasn’t alone that night.”
“Who was there, Harry? Who was it?” Hermione whispered. “Who did you see?”
Harry let out a deep breath he did not know he was holding and shook his head, “I couldn’t see. I was almost there but I couldn’t make it past the cloak before Voldemort suspected me.”
“It was Pettigrew.” Ginny sat back on her heels. “It was Peter, Harry. Sirius said that Peter was there when he showed up, that’s how Voldemort kept his wand. He took it, framed Sirius, and then hid in the Burrow for the next twelve years.”
“It fits,” Hermione agreed with Ginny’s conclusions.
“So Peter tried to change his mind?” Ron asked and then answered his own question. “He was probably jealous of your dad, didn’t mind that he was out of the way. But maybe he had a… you know, a thing for your mum? He wanted to keep her for himself. He would be her savior, his reward for giving you up.”
“That’s sick.” Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Pettigrew said that Voldemort made him give up my parents, maybe in his own demented way, he felt bad ” but only enough to save my mum for himself.” Harry was regretting more and more his choice of not letting Sirius and Lupin finish him in the Shrieking Shack and the anger he felt at himself and towards Wormtail flared in his belly.
“But Voldemort didn’t listen,” Ron added. “Whatever reason Pettigrew offered, it wasn’t enough.”
“She wouldn’t have taken it. Whatever the reason, whatever deal he tried to broker.” Harry ran his hands through his hair. “She’d have given her life either way to save me, with her blood. Mum chose to be with Dad. Pettigrew knew it, that’s why he needed my blood for Voldemort’s rebirth, so that he could touch me. He stole it.”
“So now we know.” Ginny handed Harry his glasses and he took them back apologetically. “It’s all been Peter.”
“And Professor Snape has figured out how you survived.” Hermione reminded them all of how they got to this point. “Restituo Viscus Potestas. No wonder you share the Vita Potestas Bond with Ginny. It’s a bit of an after effect, really. It all fits.”
“Now we just have to figure out how to keep it ” to keep you alive,” Ron muttered, closing the large text and joining in the deep, tangible silence that surrounded them like the seeping darkness that stalks the setting sun.
A/N: To say that I'm a bit rusty would be a gross understatement. After Seeds, which was probably the best thing I've ever written (sadly) and such a long absence from "Power", the pressure was on. There's so much going on in this chapter that I rehashed it too many times to count. You could say this is the beginning of the end so I had to make sure all my Cornish Pixies were in a row, and you know how difficult they can be! lol I hope that it was enjoyable if nothing else.
I can only offer up my deepest apologies for my neglect. I'm well aware that authors who hang their readers out to dry suffer a 'fate worse than death'. Apparently, I'm still alive! lol Thank you so much for supporting me along the way. It means to world to me and is truly humbling. There are so many great FF authors out there, that I can hardly imgine why you've taken the time to read my scribblings.
And a thousand thanks to cwarbeck, who has - for some unknown reason - agreed to take pity on me and my mess and has graciously waved the magic Beta Wand on my behalf. You're worth your weight in gold and then some. I'll try to do better next time!
Now, I should probably get busy and write! ~Patrony :)