The Girl in the Tower
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Chapter Three: Playing Dirty
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The door was yet to be raised and Harry stood astride his broom. "Okay team, we're playing their game today. We're going to win, of course, but let's be brutal."
A loud rumble of approval came room the six players behind him and it was no surprise that Ron’s bellowing voice was loudest of all. They waited to lift off, waited for their cue and the roar of the crowd.
Harry smiled back at them. "Fred, George? This is your last game. Play the way you've always wanted to."
Both brothers raised their hands in sharp salute. "Aye aye, Captain!"
Harry laughed. They did this all the time, even when they weren't playing Quidditch.
Ron sneered. "Yeah, let's give those rotten Slytherins exactly what they deserve!"
Finally, they heard Lee Jordan, the announcer. "Welcome to the last Quidditch game of the season. Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"
The crowd cheered louder.
“Today's game is for the Quidditch Cup! Now let's hear it for the Slytherin team!"
Some clapping and a resounding boooo! filled the stands. The Slytherins, lead by Malfoy, did a quick lap and touched down to meet Madam Hooch.
The door was raised and Harry's team mounted their brooms.
"And now let's hear it for the defending champions; GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry, followed close by Ron, Fred, George, Liam, Molly, and Regina, led his team into the thunderous roar of the crowd. Most of the spectators wore the Gryffindor colors, he noticed, and many held signs bearing blinking words of encouragement and painted lions.
As they did their laps around the playing field, Harry looked for Professor Dumbledore in the top boxes, knowing the empty space next to him would be Sara. He spotted him at last and flew up close, hovering for a moment to smile at the invisible girl. He gave Hagrid a brief wave, and then leaned forward on his Firebolt to take position above the other players, knowing he’d just made himself look like the world’s biggest suck-up in front of the entire school. Harry looked across at Malfoy, who was the Slytherin Seeker and Captain, an honor he hadn't earned, and gave him his most intimidating sneer. Malfoy sneered right back.
"Captains Potter and Malfoy are in position. The teams are ready. Madam Hooch releases the Bludgers and the Snitch!"
The Snitch zipped around Harry, then Malfoy, and was out of sight. Harry leveled his eyes on Malfoy again and this time he smiled and winked. Malfoy looked a bit disarmed.
"And there's the Quaffle! The game begins!"
A Bludger flew past Harry's head and he ducked it just in time. He remained above the field of play but Malfoy moved in closer, never content to just hover and watch. Slytherin had the Quaffle, and one of their Chasers was looking to score.
"And a terrific save by Ron Weasley!"
The crowd erupted and Ron raised a victorious fist in the air.
"The Quaffle is passed to Regina Thomas, who dodges a Bludger. She's about to pass to-- no, she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor! Great fake Regina!"
The Snitch buzzed past Harry and he exploded after it. Fred Weasley saw he was on its trail and fell in to give Harry some cover. Malfoy saw Harry in motion and was quick to catch up, flying side by side. He rammed Harry, who didn’t budge, and Harry slammed into Malfoy on a turn, sending him straight into the stands where he crashed into his own spectators.
"Gryffindor Captain Harry Potter has taken out Slytherin Captain Draco Malfoy! No, wait! He's up! Malfoy is still in the game!"
Fred yelled from behind. "Hard to see the Snitch with blood in your eye, Malfoy!"
"Another ten points to Gryffindor! That's Gryffindor twenty and Slytherin zero!"
Harry saw it was time to put his ultimate plan for Malfoy, who really did have blood running into his eye, into effect. It was sure to work if he was having trouble seeing. Harry let Malfoy catch up, they ran side by side for half a lap, and then Harry went into a perilous vertical dive nearing top speed. Malfoy followed him, speeding up to catch Harry, thinking he was on the trail of the Snitch. Harry came so close to the ground that he actually got nervous, spun around, and shot straight back up into the air. Malfoy, however, was so eager to prove himself the better Seeker, he passed Harry, flying as fast as his broom could carry him, and wasn't able to pull out of the dive. He crashed hard into the ground, screaming and shattering his Firebolt in the process.
Lee was shouting. "The Wronski Feint! I can't believe it! Harry Potter ANNIHILATES Draco Malfoy with the Wronski Feint! Harry Potter RULES!"
Half of the crowd came to its feet, chanting his name.
Harry, his heart beating like crazy, smiled and caught up to Fred Weasley, who was keeping track of the Snitch while he disposed of Malfoy. Fred fell back and, within moments, a Slytherin sixth year was alongside Harry, trying to ram him into the stands.
George Weasley appeared off to the right, fast on the trail of a Bludger. Harry caught his eye and gave him a brief nod. To the Slytherin Chaser's surprise, Harry suddenly went high and George swung at the Bludger, sending it straight at the opposition. The Slytherin saw it coming but there wasn't even time to duck. He fell off his broom and hit the ground with a thud. The Gryffindor crowd cheered their loudest yet while the Slytherin crowd booed and yelled. Yes, it was dirty, Harry thought as he chased the Snitch, but nothing Slytherin hadn't done to them.
"Slytherin Chaser Doug Gorrith is hit by a Bludger and is out of the game! We haven't seen such aggressive play from Gryffindor since, well, EVER!"
Harry knew he had to catch the Snitch soon. Slytherin wouldn't take their losses well and he feared they were already on his trail. He waited every second to be hit by a Bludger. The Snitch dropped as it always seemed to do just as he thought he had it, and Harry went into another vertical dive, following it until it was straighten out or crash. He gripped the broom hard and turned sideways, knocking his head against the ground and leveling out as the crowd gasped.
"Ten points to Slytherin!"
"Come on, Ron!" Harry came up on the Snitch as it rose a little and he stretched for it, still out of reach. He leaned forward as far as he could, trying to push the Firebolt as fast as it would go and he saw the gap between his fingers and the Snitch closing.
Then he heard Fred's voice.
"Watch out, Harry!"
Harry dipped without thought and felt the Bludger skim his shoulder. He glanced up and saw one of the Slytherin Beaters grinning at him and he forgot all about the Snitch. There was something he simply had to do. Harry grinned and sat up as he rode past; his middle finger raised and held out to the Slytherin creep who'd just tried to take his head off. The menacing boy's face went into a scowl and Harry laughed before turning his attention back to the Snitch. Both Fred and George followed suit, displaying the Universal Sign of Discontent as they rode along behind him. The Gryffindor crowd boomed with laughter. Even some of the teachers had to hide their smiles.
"They flipped him off!" Lee shouted in elated surprise. "Half the Gryffindor team just flew the bird at the bloody Slytherins!"
"LEE JORDAN!" came the voice of Professor McGonagall, (who sounded rather amused to Harry), followed by a muffled "Sorry."
He heard the whiz of the Bludger again, then the soft thud of a body hitting the grass a moment later.
"Slytherin loses a Beater! George Weasley sure is dangerous today! Slytherin is down to four players and there's little hope for a comeback!"
Harry was always glad Lee was from Gryffindor House. The biased announcing helped his team's morale, although today Harry felt invincible.
"Ten points to Gryffindor! Regina Thomas fools the Slytherin Keeper with the same fake again! And Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter closes on the Snitch, having just been missed by a Bludger! And look at that in-your-face save by Ron Weasley! Incredible! Slytherin is really taking a beating! But, wait, wait! He has it! Harry Potter catches the Snitch for one hundred and fifty points! Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!"
The crowd came to its feet and the noise was deafening. Harry held the Snitch high and rose to circle the field with his teammates behind him, their arms raised in celebration and in victory. Harry hovered in front of Dumbledore's box, where Hermione now stood with the space that was Sara. He gave the Snitch a wave, smiling triumphant, and led his team to the ground. Madam Hooch ran over and handed Liam Seever the coveted trophy. Together, the Gryffindor Team lifted it in the air while the crowd cheered their loudest and the field rang with the thunder of applause.
Harry looked to Sara and, since everyone was busy looking at the winning team, she pulled back the hood of the cloak and blew him a kiss.
He smiled until she raised the hood again and was gone.
* * *
Professor McGonagall beamed as she hurried toward him. "Congratulations Harry, congratulations!"
He was just emerging from the team's locker-room celebration, still wearing his Quidditch robe and pads, looking to find Sara as soon as possible.
She took his hand and all but dragged him along, her pace brisk with excitement. "Professor Dumbledore would like to speak to you. Come quickly."
"Is it about Malfoy?"
"No, no. Mr. Malfoy is recovering in the hospital wing, Harry. He'll be just fine. It's only a few broken bones."
As head of Gryffindor House, Harry expected McGonagall to be displeased with the way they'd played but she showed no sign of it. She smiled all the way to Dumbledore's office.
Before speaking the password, she turned to Harry, still smiling. "Well played, Harry. It's about time those Slytherins got a taste of their own medicine. I thought it was brilliant! Even that vulgar hand gesture."
Harry grinned. She looked positively tickled!
"There will be a party waiting in the common room when you're finished, so hurry back."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Ice mice." McGonagall led him through the door, up the steps and into Dumbledore's office. "Here he is, Albus!"
"Thank you, Minerva."
Professor McGonagall left the room and Dumbledore got out of his seat. He offered Harry his hand and Harry shook it, both of them smiling wide. Harry marveled at the truth and wisdom he saw in Dumbledore's eyes. He was much taller than Dumbledore now but he always felt so hopelessly inferior.
"Good job again, Captain. Remarkable!"
"Thank you, sir! We have a great team."
"That you do. And your friend Ron has proven to be a talented edition! Much improved!" Dumbledore grinned, remembering Ron's total lack of confidence. "He made a most incredible save while you were chasing the Snitch. He did some spinning maneuver, hit the Quaffle with the front end of his broom and passed it back to the Chasers! And then he stuck out his tongue!" Dumbledore bellowed laughter. "Harry, your team was most spirited today. Great fun to watch."
Harry smiled. "We knew we could beat them, sir. Fred and George just wanted to have some fun with the Slytherins. You know, give back a little. Actually, we all did."
Dumbledore laughed again. "You certainly did that! And a bit of showing off too, I think."
"Perhaps a little."
"Perhaps, you had someone to impress."
"Thank you for bringing her, Professor. It was great having her there. Besides, how could I lose the Quidditch Cup in front of Sara?"
"How indeed! There is something I wanted you to have, Harry, and I think this is the perfect moment for it." Dumbledore went to his desk and picked up a heavy gold frame, covered in glass. This he handed to Harry.
"Wow!" Harry accepted the very plaque Hermione had pointed out to him the day he'd made the Quidditch team. Originally given to a champion Gryffindor team of long ago, the largest of the seven gold inscriptions read 'Chaser; James Potter'. "I don't know how to thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled with touching sincerity. "You already have. If I'd had a son, Harry Potter, I would want him to be a lot like you, only a little less danger prone I think. That is all the thanks I need."
Harry smiled, touched by the words of the man he most respected. "I'll cherish this, sir. If I ever have a house of my own, I'll hang it right over the mantle."
"And that would be its proper place. Until then, I think you have a party to attend."
"As soon as I see Sara."
"Yes, of course. She's expecting you, I believe."
Harry turned to leave.
"Harry, I wanted to thank you for what you've done for her. She's looking at things a little differently."
"I did my best, sir."
"You always do, Harry."
Harry smiled one last time before passing through the door. He stopped for a moment in the hall to look at the plaque again. This had to be the best day of his life, he thought. The very best day.
* * *
Sara was in her bedroom when Harry arrived and those all-too-familiar butterflies flared up in his stomach the moment he saw her. He thought she looked fantastic, dressed in yet another variation of her favorite gypsy style, bare feet and all, but today there was something different about her. Something that radiated.
She gave him a seductive smile and the butterflies turned to something warmer. "You were incredible. You must be the most exciting person I've ever met, Captain Potter."
Harry hugged the frame to his chest, too afraid he’d forget he was holding it. “I’m exciting?”
Sara took a few deliberate steps toward him. "I felt rather exhilarated watching you dispose of that horrible Malfoy."
She stood before him now and the warm feeling was spreading.
"You're so brave, Harry, so unshakable. And I must say, that uniform is rather sexy." She removed his pads, throwing them on the floor. "I don't know just exactly how long I can keep my hands off you, Captain."
Harry pulled off his Quidditch robe and dropped it, finding it suddenly hot, and hard to breathe. He stood looking at Sara, the warmth in his stomach having enveloped his entire being. His heart was racing. He could feel her breath on his neck, and when she whispered so close to his ear, he could hear the desire in her voice.
"Put your hands on me, Harry."
He kissed her with more passion than he ever had and they fell to the bed without grace. His hands were everywhere and she responded, pulling at his Quidditch jumper and slipping her hands beneath it. Her touch was electric, Harry thought, like low-voltage pressed against his skin. His hands slipped under her clothes and her kiss became a fever, her fingers tangling in his hair…
"Sara. We have to stop."
She sighed her frustration. "I don't care anymore!"
"We promised Dumbledore." Harry rolled onto his back, catching his breath. "Believe me; I've never wanted to be so irresponsible in my entire life."
"It's becoming so difficult." Sara settled her head on his shoulder and threw a loose arm over his chest. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "We can't keep this up forever."
Harry rolled onto his side to face her, brushing the hair back from her face as he smiled. “I’m going to miss you, did you know?”
She showed him her most affectionate smile. "I'll miss you, too, but I won't let it make me miserable. I promise."
"As long as you're not drowning yourself with Riesling. It troubles me when you do that."
Sara gave him a resigned nod of compliance.
Harry held her close, dreading the moment when he would leave her, less than two days away. He knew she lied about her sadness, and about the wine, but she meant it at the moment so he said nothing more. It would do no good.
They lay together for a while, quiet, dreaming secret dreams of September until Harry remembered the celebration at Gryffindor Tower. He sat up, alarmed and swift, sending Sara to the bed with a thump.
"Sorry! I have to get to the party! I forgot all about it and they're probably wondering where I am. How long have I been here?" Harry jumped from the bed and hurried to slip on his shoes and grab up his Quidditch gear.
Sara showed him a pleasant smile, head propped on her elbow as she watched him from the bed. "I don't know. Maybe an hour."
"An hour! I was supposed to come right back! McGonagall's going to turn me into a toad for sure!"
"I'll turn you back into a goat, then."
He stopped to kiss her before running for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
* * *
McGonagall shook her head as she pulled Harry into the room. "For Merlin's sake, boy, you've got lipstick all over your collar! And your shoes are untied. You look a shambles!"
Harry thought she must have been hovering near the door, waiting for him. A group of third year girls giggled as he walked by.
One of them smirked. "Nice hair."
Harry felt the tangled, wind-swept mess on his head and remembered Sara's hands had lingered there. He felt self-conscious and wanted to slip away to his room to straighten up. Harry smoothed his hair as best he could, noticing his shirt was half untucked, pulled askew, and sticking out from under his jumper.
McGonagall yelled to the crowded common room. "Attention! Our Captain is finally here!"
Every member of Gryffindor House must have been present and they were applauding him, cheering and passing him bottles of Butterbeer. He shifted his Quidditch gear and the gold frame to his left arm to accept one. Many hands were patting him on the back and congratulations were heard on all sides. Surrounded, Harry smiled and tried to shy away with his eye on the stairs that led to the boys’ dorms, inching his way toward them.
Ron and Hermione appeared before him, knowing better than to ask where he'd been. Harry was thankful for the opportunity to slip into conversation, allowing everyone else to go back to what they’d been doing.
Ron grinned. "Nice lipstick."
Hermione smirked. "Leave him alone, Ron. It's none of our business, you know."
Harry defended himself, his voice as quiet as the noisy room would allow. "Nothing happened!"
Ron grinned again. "Well, something happened to your hair. It's sticking out all crazy like."
"Just help me get to our room."
Ron and Hermione made meaningful eye contact. "We'll be right back. Wait for me?" His hand rested on her shoulder until they turned to go. The smile and the look she gave Ron told Harry all he needed to know.
As they climbed the stairs, having stopped to thank every person who congratulated them on the way, Harry had to ask. "So you finally told her?"
"It was Sara. She sent me an owl. She told me to get over my fear of rejection before Hermione got tired of waiting."
"So? What happened?"
"Well, after the match today I felt like I could do no wrong. So, I just walked up and kissed her. She didn't hit me or anything!"
"It's about time. I was getting tired of watching you two stare at each other."
"Can you believe our luck, Harry? Here we are, Quidditch champions at a celebration in our honor, and we both have girlfriends! Who'd have thought?"
Harry just smiled and dumped his stuff on his bed. He put the framed plaque, wrapped in an old jumper, into his trunk, (noticing his invisibility cloak had been returned,) and found some fresh clothes. He ran a comb through his hair, embarrassed and amused by his disheveled appearance.
"How is Sara? You're leaving in two days."
"She's upset, of course. Dumbledore won't let her out. She wants to stay with Hermione but he said it's too risky."
“Bummer, that is. It’s like she’s in prison or something.”
Harry sighed. "I'm really going to miss her."
Ron tried to smile. "Maybe he'll change his mind."
"Yeah, right. Come on. We'd better get back now."
* * *
The party went on until one in the morning. Harry had such a good time he kept deciding to stay just a few more minutes until he was one of the last students left in the common room. Fred and George were in such a crazy mood that it seemed a shame to leave, especially since they would never be back and Harry would never have this chance again.
Ron said goodnight to Hermione in private and returned to the small gathering with a smile on his tired face. "I'm turning in. Can't keep my eyes open another minute!" He yawned, setting off a chain reaction and then everyone was going to bed.
Harry followed Ron to their room, where the other three boys were already long asleep, and got his invisibility cloak out of his trunk. He sat down on the bed to talk to Ron for a minute before going to meet Sara, who’d expected him hours ago, the cloak draped across his lap.
"Tell me what's going on with you and Hermione." Harry yawned and fell back on the pillow. "Are you together or just thinking about it?" He yawned again.
"We're a couple I guess. We're making plans to spend some time together over the summer. "
Ron stopped talking. Harry was snoring, soft and light, fast asleep. Ron smiled at his friend and then went to the desk and pulled out a quill.
Dear Sara,
Harry fell asleep. I think he was about to go to your tower. He's still wearing his shoes. I thought you would want to know.
Your friend,
Ron
He gave the letter to Hedwig, who seemed glad to have something to do. She flew off straight away, knowing just where to go. Ron fell onto his bed without changing into pajamas. He was asleep within minutes.
* * *
Harry awoke at the first light of dawn as he always did and had no idea where he was or why he was still wearing his glasses. It took a moment to realize he was in his own room, not Sara's, but he could feel her there and could smell her perfume. In fact, she was lying on his arm.
He whispered in the dimness, afraid of waking his roommates. "Sara!" Harry pulled back the invisibility cloak, in which she had wrapped herself. The Marauder's Map was still clutched in her hand. "Sara, wake up!"
Her whisper was heavy with sleep. "Morning, Harry. I missed you last night."
He pulled the blankets up to their necks and she snuggled against him. "You're crazy, coming in here! But I'm glad you did."
"I took off your shoes and pulled the curtains."
"I'm sorry. I was just about to go see you and I was talking to Ron. I must have fallen asleep."
"You did. You must have been exhausted after such a busy day. So what if I had to come to you for once? It's nice to be somewhere other than the tower, anyway. And it's so dangerous."
"Not really. That tickles! I doubt anyone's about yet. This is when I usually come in and I never even need my cloak."
"I should get back now, before I get you in trouble."
"Are you kidding? This is great! There's a girl in my bed. I doubt anyone's tried that one before."
"Hmm. A story for the grandkids?"
"Definitely."
"I'll stay a few minutes but then I really should go."
* * *
Ron, Hermione and Harry were rather subdued as they climbed the endless steps of the tower, having just left the end of year feast where they'd eaten nothing, still dressed in their school robes and black caps. It was their last night at Hogwarts. They were leaving in the morning and each felt terrible for Sara, knowing she would be alone when they'd gone.
Ron broke the silence about halfway up. "How long is Dumbledore planning to keep her here, Harry? Until Voldemort dies? I mean, it's kind of ridiculous, don't you think? She's missing everything."
Harry sighed. "I know. I tried talking to him about it, but he insists. There's nothing more I can do."
Hermione turned to Harry as she climbed. "Dumbledore put spells on your house to keep Voldemort out. Why can't he protect Sara the same way? I mean, she can't even visit! It isn't fair."
"Nothing to do with Sara is fair. She's going crazy, I'll bet."
"She is. She feels like a prisoner. I just wish I could do something. I can't help thinking that Dumbledore's wrong about this."
"Yeah, and who's going to argue with him?"
"Not me."
"Not me, either."
They had reached the door, which didn't open until Harry stepped in front of it. Soft, sleepy music drifted out and they could hear Sara singing along. Ron whispered to his friends. "She sounds better than the recording."
Harry and Hermione nodded their agreement in silence.
Sara had tired eyes yet she smiled and greeted them. She hugged Hermione and
kissed Ron's cheek. Sara was beyond cheerless when she looked to Harry and said nothing, just took his hand and led him to the table, set for their last dinner party. Sara's glass already held wine, although it was half-empty, and the three of them shared a concerned glance. She seemed a little less than steady on her feet and the enthusiasm was gone from her smile. The streak in her hair was more profound than ever and the all-black outfit she wore seemed funeral-like.
Sara took a long drink of her glass and tears seemed about to leak from her eyes as thunder rumbled in the distance. The black in her hair grew as they watched and Hermione sniffled. She was quick to wipe her eyes, but Ron and Harry saw and lowered their heads, feeling the same way.
House-elves entered carrying covered dinner plates, which they placed on the table without a word. They were gone as soon as they'd come and the four of them ate in silence. Sara regarded her food with disinterest, holding her fork without purpose, pushing things from one side of her plate to the other. Often her gaze lingered on Harry.
Hermione moved her chair next to Sara's and took her friend's hand.
Sara smiled. "I'm sorry. It's so depressing, thinking about you all leaving."
"Then you know how we feel. We'll all miss you."
Harry had still said nothing. Most of his dinner was uneaten and he was melancholy.
Sara tossed her napkin on the table. "Let's go in."
Sara led them to a room even Harry hadn't seen before. The furniture was covered with dusty sheets and Sara swept them onto the floor to reveal beautiful parlor sofas of burgundy velvet on which she motioned for them to sit. The moon had risen and shone through the windows, casting the loveliest of shadows. Sara looked to them with the sweetest smile and then went to the corner of the room and uncovered a grand piano. "I thought I might sing for you."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked to each other, astonished. Sara never sang in front of anyone, and whenever they caught her at it, she stopped and acted as if she hadn't been.
Harry gave her his best smile. "We'd love to hear you sing."
Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement and Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that they were holding hands.
Sara placed a brass candelabra in the center of the piano and held her fingers out to it. Flames leapt from the wicks and she took her seat. She gestured again and a violin lifted into the air, prepared to play as if a musician held it. It hovered there, waiting for Sara to begin.
The first few notes were shaky. Sara was nervous. The song she played was pure sadness as the violin joined the piano and her voice was finally heard. She closed her eyes and her voice grew stronger, more certain, and she found her niche. The room and her friends went away as she poured her soul into her song, and Sara slipped back in time. She was a little girl, sitting in the shadowy corner of a New Orleans lounge, watching her mother perform in a cloud of smoke, her honey voice reaching out in the darkness to the hearts of all who heard. The music was smooth, deep and low, emotional. Sara's voice permeated everything.
She's speaking, Harry thought. She's telling us how she feels. Using the music.
The words told of heartbreak and a helpless loneliness that pulled at the soul until it could be felt and pushed out everything else. It was moving and painful, uninterrupted beauty. It was the saddest thing Harry had ever heard.
* * *
Hermione hugged her friend. "I'll write all the time. I'll send you magazines, catalogs, and books. If you need anything, I can get it for you. Just let me know."
Sara smiled, pulling back to look at her. "That's so sweet of you. And I'll keep at Uncle Albus, if the invitation's still open."
"You're always welcome. I really hope he lets you come."
Sara turned to Ron and hugged him, too. "I'll miss you. I hope you'll keep in touch."
"I will and, when we come back, I hope you'll play for us again."
"Of course."
Ron kissed Sara's cheek and led Hermione out the door, both turning to look back one more time before leaving for good.
Thunder rumbled outside and Harry rushed to console Sara before the rain could start. He heard a light splattering but then it stopped and the thunder seemed to move off. When he looked at Sara, one tear had found its way down her face. He wiped it away.
"So, tell me Harry, what happened at the end of year feast? You didn't eat much at our dinner. You didn't fill up down there, did you?"
"Actually, the three of us left right after the ceremony. Hermione was named Head Girl for next year in advance. They haven't announced Head Boy yet, but it's sure to be Malfoy. And we won the House Cup again, but Ravenclaw almost beat us. Slytherin came in third, having beat Hufflepuff by only a few points. They're really losing their edge."
"Well, when Malfoy's your ring leader... I can't believe Hermione didn't tell me! How wonderful, it's such an honor to be chosen Head Girl! And the fact that they announced it already means it was no contest. I'll have to send her an owl to congratulate her."
"I'm sure she'd appreciate it."
He allowed her to lead him to the couch in front of the fire and they sat together, watching the flames in silence. Harry's arm pulled her closer and she leaned against him, letting the time pass for, in the morning, he would be gone.
* * *
It was close to midnight when they heard a knock at the door. Sara jumped to her feet and motioned for Harry to get out of sight. He concealed himself in the next room where he could still hear and Sara opened the door. It was Snape, to Harry's surprise, and he listened even harder.
Snape took a few steps into the room and sort-of glared at her. "I was planning to visit but, since Potter’s robe is on the back of that chair, I think I’ll limit my stay to less than one minute. Spending the night, is he? You know, Sara, I can't help thinking that your little boyfriend is rather insincere. Seems a pity to waste your virtue on someone who's, no doubt, only looking to line his pockets."
"I assure you, Severus. I don't make such decisions lightly. Besides, he doesn't even know. I think you misjudge him."
"Not if he's anything like his father."
"His father has nothing to do with it! That's not fair."
"I've never had much interest in being fair. Only in being honest."
"Well, as unfortunate as your limited views may be, I will forgive your misjudgments."
"Try to make your mother proud, my dear. Although I'm sure she wouldn't be, come morning." Snape walked into the doorway and then looked back to her, disapproval on his face, disappointment in his eyes. "Good night, Sara." Snape went down the stairs.
Sara hung her head, the comment stinging, wondering if what she was planning was right. She loved Harry, but was this the time?
Harry came back into the room. "What was all that about?"
Sara sat on the sofa with a heavy sigh. "It seems he knows what’s on our minds and he’s made it clear that he doesn't approve."
Harry just looked at her as butterflies, nervous ones, raced around his stomach. “We don’t need his approval, whether he likes it or not.”
"True, Harry. I'm going to get ready for bed." Sara smiled and left the room.
Harry undressed to his underclothing, laying his school clothes over the chair by the bed. He climbed under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, even though the night was warm. His mind raced until Sara returned and joined him. Harry's heart was hammering in his chest.
"Harry, you're shaking."
"So are you." Harry lay on his side, looking across the pillows at her.
She reached over and took his hand, smiling a little in the moonlight. Harry smiled back and moved into the center of the bed where she met him and his arm went around her as her head found its usual place.
"What he said about you're mother, don't listen to him. He knew it would bother you. It's the only reason he said it."
"But what if he's right? What if I should be ashamed and I don't know it?"
"You should do what you know is right."
"Suddenly I'm not sure. I was sure all the way up to this moment."
"You're scared."
"And you're not?"
"Of course I am. Actually, I'm quite terrified."
Sara laughed. "I can't believe it. Not you, Captain. You're not afraid of anything."
Harry propped his head on his elbow and looked down at her, thinking her beautiful, even in the dark. He kissed her, wishing he could calm his nerves, and she trembled under his touch. He whispered and she answered, tangling a hand in his hair, wrapping an arm around his back to pull him closer. A passion was quick to arise between them but their usual frenzy did not. It was sweeter; more affection than physical attraction and Harry caught her eyes, thinking he would have to leave her in only a few hours.
* * *
Harry awoke in the early light to music from another room. It was Sara, playing her piano. Her voice rose and fell and there was none of the morose tone of the night before. This morning her song was bittersweet.
He rose and found the room, dressed only in his t-shirt and shorts and she smiled when she saw him in the doorway, listening. She was wearing the white oxford he wore with his robe and tie to classes, and he thought she looked perfect in it.
The song ended and she walked to where he was as sadness and love radiated from her in a mix of expression. "Morning, Harry."
"Good morning. You know, I never realized how short you were until I saw you in my clothes."
She glanced down at the long, baggy shirt. "I wanted to be close to you but I didn't want to wake you. Sorry."
"It's okay. In fact, why don't you keep it? I've got others."
"I think I'll sleep in it every night until you come back." She glanced at the floor, and then back at him. "You're train leaves in two hours. I wish I could go down to see you off."
"It's probably better this way. I bet I'd make a fool of myself saying goodbye to you."
"Too bad you can't accidentally miss the train."
Harry pulled her into a soft embrace and kissed the top of her head. "Sara," he sighed. "This is so hard."
She clung to him, determined not to cry until after he'd gone. "You were right, you know. It isn't such a long time. I think we'll be all right."
"I'm going to get some money set aside. When I graduate next year, I'll be able to take care of you. I promise."
"We'll deal with that when the time comes."
"It's what I want to do. I'm going to get a job, a Muggle job, and I'll save every penny."
"Don't be ridiculous. Enjoy the summer. You have the rest of your life to work. I insist."
Harry smiled, knowing he would do no such thing. He had his parents’ savings at Gringotts but he couldn’t stand the thought of spending more than a few Galleons at a time. Living off his inheritance, without adding to it, was an idea he wouldn’t even consider.
They had some morning tea on the roof, snuggled together, wrapped in a blanket and watching Hagrid go about his morning chores in the distance.
Sara rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't even have a picture of you."
"I gave Colin Creevey some money at the party. He promised to send me a set of the pictures he took at the Quidditch Cup, so I'll send you one when I get them."
"But you don't have a picture of me!"
"I don't need one."
Harry set down his cup and kissed her. The emotion he was trying to hide flooding him, overpowering everything.
With a great rush of wings, Fawkes hovered above them. He carried a letter but didn't drop it until Harry and Sara moved apart.
"Look at that, a bird with manners."
Harry opened the note, knowing what it would tell him before he ever saw the text. Time was running short and he still hadn't changed clothes for the trip. They would need to take his trunk soon.
Dear Harry,
Please do not miss the train.
Sincerely,
Professor Dumbledore
Harry stood. "It's time, Sara. I have to go."
Sara got to her feet. She held his eyes for a long moment, wanting to say too many things. "I'll miss you."
He pulled her into a close embrace. "I'll write as soon as I get home."
"I'll write as soon as you leave." Sara smiled and kissed him one last time. "Now go. I can't bear to see you walk out the door."
He left her there on the roof, her back to him, thunder rolling in the distance.
* * *
Harry was rushing to meet Ron and Hermione, who waited for him on the far side of the dining hall. He'd made it almost to the head of the Hufflepuff table when Snape stepped into his path. Harry was tall enough to look him in the eye now and it was hard to believe that he was once afraid of him. Snape glared with accusation.
"Interesting night, Potter?"
Harry stopped before him without even a hint of a smile. "Is there something I can do for you, Professor? I don't want to miss the train."
Snape scowled. "I find that hard to believe. Seems unlikely that an upstanding young man - such as yourself - would be so anxious to be... on his way."
Harry took a step forward, closing the space between them. He was finished with the man's vicious insinuations and thought it about time he let him know. He was inches from Snape, who grew incensed by his daring, but Harry stood his ground.
"There will come a day when I'm not a student anymore. I hope you're ready for it."
Snape grinned. "A duel then? This day next year?"
"Nothing would make me happier, Snape."
"You will address me with respect."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "I give respect where it's due."
"You should be careful who you threaten, Mr. Potter. You may find yourself in a situation where your meager intelligence proves no match for years of wisdom, knowledge, and superior skill."
Harry chuckled. "My intelligence, wisdom and knowledge work quite well with my superior skill, actually. See you in September… Snape." Harry walked away and left Snape to glare after him and stew in his own disdain.
Ron and Hermione had watched the exchange from across the room, unable to hear what was said. They waited with impatience until the three of them had settled into a carriage before attacking Harry with a barrage of questions, getting no direct answers.
Ron pushed for information. "We saw the whole thing! What did he say?"
“Come on, Harry! At least tell us what it was about!”
"Nothing really. Just Snape being his usual charming self."
Ron gave up when they reached the platform, to Harry's relief. Most of the students had already boarded and they saw Hagrid ushering the rest onto the train, which would be leaving within a few minutes.
Harry looked to Ron. "Save me a seat. I have to say goodbye to Hagrid."
Hagrid smiled as Harry approached. "Mornin' Harry. Better get on the train soon."
"I just wanted to say so long."
"Ain't seen much of ya lately. Been keeping busy, have ya?"
"I'm sorry, Hagrid. I've been a bit... preoccupied."
"So I've heard. It's a shame, that poor girl bein' hid like that, but if Albus Dumbledore says it has to be, then it has to be. But I'm sure glad she had some company."
Harry smiled. He hadn't known Hagrid was aware of Sara's presence, otherwise he would have taken her out to visit his cabin under the cloak. He noticed Hagrid carried a large umbrella, even though the sky was clear. Harry understood. He was expecting the same rainstorm.
"I'll see you in September. Take care, Hagrid."
"You, too, Harry.” Hagrid lifted a hand and waved. "And you’d better write!"
The train's whistle blew and Harry hurried to the nearest open door. He looked back and waved before disappearing into the car.
He found Ron and Hermione with ease, as Ron was hanging half out of the compartment, looking for him. Harry took his seat with downcast eyes and looked out at the castle, silent. The whistle sounded one last time and they pulled away.
Hogwarts slid out of view.
It began to rain.
* * *
Snape found Sara on the roof, standing in the midst of a furious storm, shaking with cold and overwhelming emotion. Her head hung, her arms were limp at her sides, and her wet hair stuck to her face. He walked to the edge of the overhang, watching, unsure how to approach her. She was despondent, soaked to the bone and the image was heartrending. He realized he'd never despised Harry Potter the way he did at this moment.
At last, Snape ventured into the driving rain and went to her side; putting a gentle arm on her shoulders. "Come inside, my dear."
The fire was cold, but he brought it to life with a wave of his wand. He wrapped her with a blanket and sat her on the sofa. Sara looked at the floor, her stringy hair hiding her eyes. The black, he saw, had enveloped a third of her head.
Snape disappeared for several minutes and returned with a cup of hot tea, which he placed in her trembling hands. She sipped it and lowered it to the table. Music, one of her mother's old recordings, filled the room and he sat at the other end of the couch, his eyes on the stereo.
"It's been years since I've heard her voice. She used to perform for us in the dining hall sometimes after dinner. Everyone loved to hear her sing."
Sara said nothing.
"I was in love with your mother, Sara, but I made the wrong choices. She turned away from me and with good reason. I've never held it against her."
"Then you understand how it feels to lose someone you love." Sara looked to him, her voice choked and unsteady, her eyes reddened from crying. "Yet you pretend you don't."
"I came here to apologize for what I said last night. It was wrong of me to presume to know how Diana would feel. If you want to be a fool it's no business of mine."
Sara was angry and Snape said nothing. “My insincere little boyfriend is more of a gentleman than you know."
She leaned her head against the side of the couch, no longer compelled to look at him, the music growing louder. Snape stayed where he was, humbled, and then left without a word.
* * *