Revelations

19: Revelations


19: Revelations

Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

November settled in, bringing with it icy rains and a bone-chilling rawness. The lake froze over with a very thin layer of ice early in the season. Professor Flitwick was heard to say that he hadn’t seen weather like it since he was a lad.

The stone walls of the castle seemed to hold the cold, and Harry suspected it was intentional to keep students from milling about in the corridors – instead, sending them quickly to their classrooms. Aside from the dungeon where Potions was held, all the classrooms seemed comfortably warm and cheery.

Midway through a week of damp, dreary drizzle, Professor Dumbledore stood up in the Great Hall and made an announcement that put fear in the hearts of most of the young wizards of Hogwarts. This had not been his intention, but it had become evident that the students were showing signs of strain amidst the constant threat of war combined with the overbearing weather. The Headmaster had decided to hold another Yule Ball in the hope of lifting their spirits.

Immediately, the young witches began talking excitedly amongst themselves, planning for the occasion, the cold nearly forgotten. Harry, like the vast majority of his male classmates, felt a pit grow in his stomach, as he remembered the fiasco of the last Yule Ball. He was going to have to go through the humiliation of asking someone again. Harry thought he’d rather endure Occlumency lessons with Snape than have to put himself through that embarrassment. He knew instantly which girl he’d like to ask, as a vision of long, red-gold hair arose in his mind, but didn’t think he’d be able to work up the nerve. He raised his juice glass, trying to moisten his suddenly dry lips.

The Yule Ball was to be held at the end of term, right before students returned home for the Christmas break. Harry assumed he’d be staying at Hogwarts anyway; he always did. Except last year , his mind whispered, but he squashed that thought quickly. He didn’t want to remember last Christmas.

Harry turned to Ron, expecting to see the same dread he was feeling on his friend’s face. Instead, he saw a huge grin as Ron looked directly across the table into Hermione’s eyes.

“Hermione, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asked without any hesitation.

Hermione beamed at him and gave him a brilliant smile in return. “I’d love to.”

Harry remembered the huge row the two of them had in fourth year over Ron’s not noticing Hermione was a girl. Judging by the looks on both his best friends’ faces, Ron had certainly made up for it with his prompt invitation this time. He admired Ron’s guts for asking her right then and there in front of everyone.

Harry noticed Ginny beaming at her brother. In fact, Parvati, Lavender, and most of the other Gryffindor girls seemed to be staring dreamily at Ron and Hermione. Harry took mental note that Ron had won points all around by just speaking up directly. He wondered if what the girls liked was the fact that he asked right away, or that he asked in front of everyone? Maybe he should just do the same and ask Ginny right now.

Harry looked over at Ginny; she was smiling happily at Ron and Hermione and teasing Ron about finally getting his act together. No, he didn’t want to ask her in front of everyone; Ron and Hermione were dating, anyway; of course, they would go together. Still, the four of them were all good friends; it would be fun to all go together. As Harry thought about it, he realized he didn’t want to ask Ginny to go to the ball as a friend; he wanted to ask her…for real.

Would he be able to get the words out? Would she laugh in his face? He’d had his chance with her years ago and hadn’t even noticed her; would she be insulted that he was finally noticing now? His palms were beginning to sweat, so he told Ron and Hermione he’d meet them in class and bolted out the door without really even looking at Ginny. He never saw her eyes following him out the door, as she shook her head slightly.

As he skidded out the doors, he ran right into Professor Dumbledore, the instigator of all his current inner turmoil. He couldn’t help the scowl that crossed his face, which seemed only to heighten the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye.

“Good morning, Harry. Are you in a rush to get to someone or away from someone?” the Headmaster asked with a chuckle.

“Morning…er…I….er…” Harry faltered, and Dumbledore smiled.

“I love the drama a Ball announcement always invokes. But, alas, on to more serious matters. There have been some developments of which I would like you to be aware. If you would…follow me?” Dumbledore extended his arm in the direction of his office, and Harry changed his direction to follow.

“What kind of developments, sir?”

Dumbledore didn’t speak until they were riding the moving staircase up to his office. “As you know, Voldemort has been quiet since the attack in Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry had told Dumbledore about his vision, and the Headmaster suspected Voldemort had wanted Harry aware of that particular destruction. It had been a massacre with several Muggle and Wizarding families destroyed. There didn’t appear to be any strategic outcome from the attack that took place in Godric’s Hollow; Dumbledore thought it was more a show of defiance—a lashing out at the past. “Our sources have informed us that Voldemort has been using the skills of a curse breaker. It is what we’ve suspected for some time.”

“Bill’s friend Declan Morrissey?” Harry asked, remembering meeting him on the day they had gone into Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore seemed surprised Harry knew about Bill’s friend, but he answered the question. “Our sources tell us Voldemort is leaning heavily on him for assistance, but we are still unsure as to whether or not he has agreed to help. Someone is helping him, however, and what concerns me is the nature of curses Mr. Morrissey works on in Egypt.”

“The nature of curses?”

“He is a specialist in curses involving familial ties. The ancient Egyptians were famous for the level of magic they used to protect their treasures.”

“So, how does that relate here? Obviously, we’re having trouble with the wards…the wards?” Harry felt a chill run down his spine, as he raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore’s piercing gaze. “Familial ties…meaning blood magic?”

“Exactly.”

Harry was stunned for a moment. What did that mean for the Dursleys?

Dumbledore seemed to know what Harry was going to ask before he voiced his concerns. “We have a round the clock guard at Privet Drive even though I do not feel the Dursleys are in any danger right now. Voldemort wants you, Harry, and the Dursleys are his way to get to you; they serve him better alive at the moment. My concern is that if we cannot stop whatever tinkering Declan Morrissey is doing with the wards, if, in fact, he is aiding Voldemort, we may not be able to rely on the safety of Little Whinging next summer.”

Harry brightened up at this. “I might not have to go back?”

Dumbledore had a very sad expression on his face as he studied Harry. “Not back to Privet Drive, but you would still need you to be with your aunt. Unless anything else changes, it is still the safest place for you to be.”

Harry sighed. “I can handle one more year with the Dursleys, but where would we go? You can’t be thinking of bringing them to Grimmauld Place? They’d never agree to that. I highly doubt you could get them to agree to leave Privet Drive just because of me. Blimey, Uncle Vernon would more likely than not just hand me over if they asked him, rather than leave his home.”

“I am not certain, Harry; we have not got that far yet. I am not entirely confident of the safety of Grimmauld Place anymore. With the work Declan Morrissey has been doing in Egypt, the Fidelius Charm is also in question. I am beginning to suspect he may have found a way around part of the Charm.”

“How do you mean?”

“They managed to locate Privet Drive, but never entered. I suspect they have not completely broken the Charm, but have made some progress.”

“So Grimmauld Place wouldn’t be safe anymore either, because Kreacher already told them we were there?” Harry was feeling that familiar panic rising within him. Either Remus or one of the Weasleys was always at that location. If something were to happen, one of them was bound to come to some harm. He didn’t think he could handle that.

Fawkes, Dumbledore’s brilliant red and gold phoenix, sailed over and perched on Harry’s shoulder. Harry felt a calmness seep through him. Dumbledore smiled. “Fawkes has always been very fond of you, Harry. Grimmauld Place is still the safest place for us to be. All the members of the Order are aware of the situation and are on heightened alert.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “Is that all, sir?”

“Well, a bit of advice, if you want it. Ask whomever it is you are thinking of to the Ball, Harry, before someone else does.”

Harry started and looked quickly up into Dumbledore’s smiling face . Am I that transparent? “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, feeling heat rising to his cheeks.

“Now, I suppose I have made you late for class?”

Harry pulled himself together. “Yeah, I’ve got to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts. My paper on me is due today,” he grumbled with distaste.

“Pardon me?”

“The assignment on the first fall of Voldemort.”

Dumbledore’s brow was knitted in apparent confusion for a moment. Harry was surprised; he didn’t think anything happened in this school of which Dumbledore wasn’t aware. “I see. I trust you’ve kept certain information on that subject to yourself?”

Harry knew he was speaking of the prophecy. “Yes, sir. I only used information which could be found in books. Ron and Hermione helped a lot with this one.”

“Yes. I am sorry, Harry. I imagine this was a difficult assignment.”

Harry merely shrugged.

“All right, off to class with you, then. Tell Professor Trent I detained you, and she should see me if she has any questions.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said.

He ambled his way through the maze of hallways on his way to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He didn’t have Hermione with him to hurry him along, so he moved at his own pace. His mind was a jumble of thoughts on everything Dumbledore had said, as well as on the Yule Ball. He knew he should be concentrating more on the problems with the wards; they were more important. Still, he couldn’t help that the announcement this morning kept working its way to the top of his thoughts.

He wanted to ask Ginny to the ball. There was no point in denying it; she was the only one he’d like to ask. Would she want to go with him? They had forged a much closer friendship since the summer, but would she be interested in going with him as his date? Maybe she already had one? Maybe, like Dumbledore had suggested, someone had already asked her? Harry found he was quite irritated by that thought. He wouldn’t like to see Ginny dancing on someone else’s arm.

Dancing! That was another problem. Harry didn’t know how to dance, and he didn’t know anyone who could teach him. He’d make a fool of himself, like he did with Parvati the last time. She’d had to lead, and he’d just stumbled along blindly behind her. Ginny most certainly would tease him for that. She still teased Neville about trouncing all over her feet at the last Yule Ball.

He didn’t think Ron would mind if he asked Ginny to the Ball; he’d probably even encourage it. Would he mind it if he knew Harry wanted to ask her as more than just a friend ?

His jumbled thoughts were interrupted as he reached the door to his class and went in, quickly moving to the seat beside Hermione. Both Ron and Hermione looked up with questions burning in their eyes, as Professor Trent said, “Thank you for joining us, Mr. Potter. Class began ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I was with Professor Dumbledore.”

“I see. Do you have your homework assignment?”

Harry nodded and handed her the essay. He’d worked long and hard with Ron and Hermione on this paper. The sheer volume of articles in the library about Harry and his family astounded him. He was both fascinated and horrified by the kinds of facts the books contained. Especially unsettling was the information on his parents’ lives that he had never known; it made him feel strange and surreal, learning about them through books.

His mother had been studying to become a Healer before she found out she was going to have him. His father had worked for the Ministry as an Unspeakable. There were whole sections on James’s Hogwarts Quidditch career as a Chaser and team captain. Voldemort had killed the entire Potter line; Harry was all that remained.

The most difficult aspect of the assignment for Harry had been writing about Sirius’s role. Most books still listed him as the Secret Keeper. Since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore had been working to get the truth out, but Fudge had been undermining his attempts, no doubt wanting to cover up yet another example of his ineptitude. Harry had been determined to put nothing in his paper that didn’t come straight from a text, but this was the one thing he couldn’t concede on; he owed Sirius that much.

He had sat alone in the library while working on that portion of his essay. He firmly yet briefly stated that Peter, not Sirius, had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, and that Sirius had wrongly been imprisoned for twelve years. Ron and Hermione had respected his need for solitude and hadn’t intruded, although he was aware of their concerned glances while he worked. He still wasn’t certain what they had put in their own essays; he just didn’t have the heart to ask.

The assignment had generated many discussions in class on how the Dark Lord could be defeated. Everything from Avada Kedavra to a Muggle handgun had been suggested and cast aside. The vast majority of the class believed it would be Dumbledore who finally brought him down. Harry had kept his lips sealed in a grim line and tried desperately to block them out. He was so afraid he’d burst with the pressure he felt and confess that only he could kill Voldemort, if it could be done at all.

Ron and Hermione could sense his agitation, but assumed it had more to do with the touchy subject of Voldemort than his actual defeat. He was immensely relieved to be done with this assignment. He was tired of the looks and questions from his classmates. Some of the other sixth-years had taken to using him as a source, and it sorely tested his temper. Malfoy had been heckling him mercilessly, and he hadn’t even felt up to slinging it back. He just wanted this whole assignment over with so that he could forget about all of it.

Professor Trent had allowed most of the questions; she seemed somewhat interested in his thoughts, as well. She listened intently to all their ideas on how Voldemort might be brought down. Harry had to admit she was good teacher, pointing out the flaws or weaknesses in their logic or having them demonstrate their ideas on occasion. He was learning from her, and it was obvious the others were, as well. Still, he couldn’t help but feel she was somehow testing him with this assignment. He assumed he’d passed her test, whatever it was, as she never questioned his essay, or his claims about Sirus’s innocence.

******

As the days went by, Harry continued to lose his nerve whenever he was around Ginny. Several times, when they were alone, he’d nearly got the words out, but someone or something always interrupted them. He was beginning to doubt the Sorting Hat’s wisdom in putting him in Gryffindor. He certainly wasn’t feeling particularly courageous.

Like last time, girls always seemed to be huddled in groups, giggling whenever a boy passed them in the corridor. Squeals and laughter rang out repeatedly; they were preoccupied with discussions on what to wear. It seemed even Quidditch had been forsaken in favor of talking about the upcoming Ball.

Ginny hadn’t said she was going with anyone, so he thought he might still have a chance. Maybe if he waited long enough, she’d say ‘yes’ just to have a date. He didn’t really want her to go with him just as a last resort, however; he wanted her to want to go with him . Why did Dumbledore have to decide to have a Ball, of all things? Why couldn’t they have had a Quidditch Exhibition or a Duel or something? Why another ruddy ball?

Tonks had solved one of his problems for him; as part of his physical training, she’d volunteered to teach him to dance. Harry was embarrassed at first by her teasing, but was so grateful to learn, he put up with it. She even taught him to steer. Harry was especially thankful for that, because when Tonks lead, she kept crashing him into things. She kept joking with him that if he didn’t hurry up and ask a girl to the Ball, all his dancing lessons would be for naught.

Harry received his rudest awakening one night just after he and Ron had gone up to bed. Hermione had stayed behind in the common room doing some last minute studying.

“So, have you got a date for the Ball yet?” Ron asked as they lay down for the night. They’d kept the hangings open so they could talk before falling asleep.

“No.”

“Better get a move on, mate. Remember what happened the last time.”

“I know. It’s not like last time, though; I don’t have to have a date to lead the dancing. It wouldn’t matter if I went alone.”

“True. Not to anyone but Malfoy, anyway.” Ron was grinning when he said this, knowing the effect it would have on Harry.

Harry’s eyes flew open wide - Malfoy ! He hadn’t thought about that. He’d never live the teasing down if he showed up without a date. “Bloody Hell, I do need to find a date. What’s up with everyone over this Ball anyway? People keep giving me all kinds of funny smiles and stares.”

Instead of acting confused, Ron outright laughed. “They’re just waiting to see how long it takes you to get up the nerve to ask Ginny.”

Harry sat straight up in bed and looked over at his friend. “What?”

“Come on, Harry; they all heard you the night of the Ravenclaw game. Why do you think no one else has approached either one of you?”

Harry was completely at a loss, having the uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t want to know what Ron was talking about. “All heard what?”

“They all heard you say you had a crush on Ginny,” Ron said, laughing.

Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He knew it was a good thing he was already lying down, or he’d have fallen down. “I said that?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“Did Gi—did she hear me say that?” Harry asked in a very soft voice, dreading the answer.

Ron sensed Harry’s discomfort and stopped teasing him. “Well, yeah, she did. Just ask her to go, mate. I know she’ll say yes.”

Harry didn’t respond; he needed a minute to let it all sink into his brain. He’d told Ginny he had a crush on her? Merlin’s Beard! Would there ever be an event at Hogwarts that didn’t involve causing him some great personal humiliation?

“Although I can’t see why she’d want to go with you. Bit on the skinny side, you are, with that hair mussed all about. S’pose she might go for the scruffy look.”

“Scruffy look,” Harry shouted indignantly, tossing his pillow at Ron.

Ron grabbed the pillow and put in under his head. “Thanks, mate.”

Harry leaned over and pulled both pillows out from under Ron with force. “You prat,” he grumbled, smirking just the same.

Ron just laughed at him, and they continued trading barbs and insults for a long time, before they finally fell asleep.

It was a Friday night shortly after dinner, and Ginny was alone in the common room. She was pacing back and forth and glaring expectantly at the stairs leading to the boy’s dormitory. She knew Harry had an Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape tonight, and he’d been dreading it. She planned on catching him before he left. It had been several weeks since the Yule Ball had been announced, and Harry still hadn’t asked her to go. She’d thought he was close to it several times, but they’d always been interrupted. Not one to sit on her laurels and wait, Ginny was planning on asking him tonight. She’d just walk right up to him and point out that since they were friends and neither one of them had dates, they should just go together.

She was nearly hyperventilating at the thought. Harry had admitted to her nearly a month ago that he had a crush on her, but it hadn’t gone beyond that point. Despite hearing it with her own ears, Ginny was hesitant to believe it. She’d allowed herself to hope once before and still had the painful memories to prove it. She didn’t want to be known as The-Girl-Who Mooned-Over-Harry-Potter anymore. She’d worked too hard to get past all that.

Still , her traitorous heart would whisper, you want to go with him . And she did…more than anything . No matter how much she had grown, in both years and maturity, she was still that nervous little girl with a big-eyed crush where he was concerned. A mere glance from him could turn her knees to jelly. Most times, he was completely oblivious of the effect he had on her. Unrequited love was nothing like it seemed to be in romance novels; it was humiliating, and it hurt.

Okay, they were friends. They were good friends and had a good time with each other. He’d said he had a crush on her, but that could have been just the Firewhiskey talking. Bloody hell , Harry was so far gone that night he could have thought he was talking to Cho Chang.

She ground her teeth in frustration; where is he ? If he didn’t hurry up and get down here, she was going to lose her nerve. If the common room started to fill up with people, she’d never have the guts to do this! Her heart felt like it was in double knots, and her dinner was fighting to come back up. Stop it! You’ve grown past this, stop tormenting yourself. If he says no, he says no. Move on, ask someone else.

She knew Colin Creevey wanted to ask her; he’d just been hesitant of stepping on Harry’s toes. Why did everything in her life have to come back to Harry Potter?

At least her brother had got his act together, with Ron asking Hermione the moment the Ball had been announced. The couple were rarely more than a few feet from each other these days, and one or the other, if not both, always had silly, puppy-dog expressions on their faces. She had to admit she was slightly envious. Not that she’d deny either her brother or Hermione their happiness; they’d waited a long time for each other. Still, in her heart, Ginny wondered how much longer she would have to wait for her turn.

Maybe this was to be her torment in life, to have him close enough to touch, but never quite reach. It was time to make her move, now or never, do or die. She was going to ask Harry to go to the Ball with her.

Harry hurried down the stairs from the dormitory, knowing he was already late, and Professor Snape would be in a bad mood before they even attempted Occlumency. Hopefully, having Moony and Professor Dumbledore there would be enough to distract him until Harry arrived. He was dreading doing this, but was determined to show the Potions Master what he had accomplished. So help him, he’d use everything he had to keep Snape out of his head tonight.

So lost in his own thoughts was he, Harry didn’t notice Ginny in the common room until he nearly ran into her on his way to the Portrait Hole.

“Ginny! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he exclaimed.

“Story of my life,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Harry, I wanted to talk to you about something?”

“Er, okay. Could it be when I get back though? I was supposed to be in Dumbledore’s office a few minutes ago.”

“This will only take a minute. It’s about the Yule Ball.” Ginny took a deep breath and seemed to be gearing herself up for something. “Obviously, Ron and Hermione are going together, and since we all have been getting on so well–”

Harry’s heart started pounding so loudly, he thought people would start coming down from their dorms to see what the commotion was about. She was going to ask him. Ginny was going to ask him to the Ball. And she was going to ask him to go as friends. That is not what Harry wanted. Before he had time to stop and consider what he was doing, before he had time to think about anything, he blurted, “Ginny, would you go to the ball with me?”

He couldn’t believe he had said it. But he did, just like that. It hadn’t come out sounding all that terrible, either. At least, he didn’t think it had. It certainly had been better than the time he’d asked Cho in fourth-year.

Ginny looked as shocked as he did. “Yes, Harry, I would like that,” she said softly, seeming more stunned than pleased. He’d worry about that later; she had said yes, and no mention of going as friends had been made.

“Well, then, that’s settled,” he said, smiling at her, and ran out the Portrait Hole. “I’ll see you when I get back.” He bolted through the corridors with a grin from ear to ear. He felt almost like he could fly. If Snape managed to break through his defenses tonight, the only thing he would see was the huge, smiling face of Ginny Weasley. He had done it. She was going to the Ball with him. With him…as his date. He tried to suppress the ridiculous urge to give high-fives to all the suits of armor as he ran.

Harry’s good mood was diminished slightly by the scowl on Snape’s face as he entered Dumbledore’s office. The Headmaster and Remus greeted him warmly, however.

“Well, Potter, now that you’ve finally seen fit to grace us with your presence, can we get on with it? I haven’t got all night,” Snape nearly spat at him.

“I’m ready.”

“We’re about to find out— Legilimens .” Harry was unprepared and, for an instant, saw Sirius falling through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, before he forced the memory out. He scrunched up his forehead, trying to focus on keeping his mind blank and clear. He could feel the familiar pushing sensation and concentrated with all his will on pushing it back. He felt his body start to tremble with the exertion. It was like a tug of war over his mind. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he distractedly noticed Snape was also sweating, though steady on his feet.

After a good fifteen minutes of this intense battle of the minds, Harry was growing weaker, and he felt his mind starting to falter. Drawing on every last bit of energy he could muster, he shut his eyes tightly and willed his shield to hold. All his power went into forcing Snape back; he had to keep him out of his head.

In a flash of light, he could make out the image of a cottage against the night sky. It was burning, and the Dark Mark hung in the sky above it. Walking through the front door and up the staircase, everything seemed oddly familiar, yet distant. Smoke was heavy and thick, yet Harry walked right through the flames. The smoke burned his nose and throat, and he gasped to fill his lungs. The smell of burning was overpowering, yet still he followed the dim figure of a man running up the stairs. He could hear a baby crying, a pitiful, wailing cry. It sounded like the child was in pain.

He entered the room where the crying was loudest. There was a baby on the floor, tugging on the arm of a woman lying prone, her body pinning the baby in place. Blood was pouring down the baby’s face from a cut on his forehead. A man knelt over the body of the woman, brushing the long, red tendrils of hair from her face. The woman’s green eyes were wide and staring lifelessly at nothing, her life washed clean away. Harry knew that face.

With a jolt, he was forced from the memory and physically hurled to his knees. He was dimly aware of Snape falling to the floor in front of him. Harry’s mind was racing as he tried to process what he’d just seen. Part of him felt stunned, frozen on the floor, unable to move. Snape hadn’t used the Pensieve this time…was this one of the memories he had been hiding from Harry last year?

“Harry, Severus?” Dumbledore questioned. “What happened? Are you both all right?”

Snape looked nearly apoplectic with rage. Harry suspected that, if it weren’t for the other witnesses in the room, his professor would have attacked him. “You were supposed to keep me out of your mind only. It’s Occlumency we’re working on here, or have you forgotten yet again?” Snape was livid.

Harry wasn’t about to be cowed by Snape’s rage now; he wanted answers, and, so help him, he was going to get them. “That was my mother. You were there! ” Harry breathed in rising fury.

Sensing the danger in the situation, Remus moved closer to Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Harry.”

“I won’t calm down,” Harry screamed, yanking his body away from Remus’s restraining hand. He rounded on Snape and advanced across the floor with the ferocity of a wounded lion. “You…were…there!” Harry had always had a distinct abhorrence for the Potions Master, but, at this moment, he literally wanted to flay him alive.

“Yes, Potter, I was there,” Snape ground out, his black eyes flashing daggers. “I was a Death Eater, remember?”

“You never said you were there,” Harry nearly howled.

“It’s not exactly a topic for dinner conversation. Headmaster, as extraordinary as it seems, he appears to have learned a new skill. I did get into his mind briefly at the beginning, but he managed, if somewhat clumsily, to force me out.”

Harry was shaking in fury as he stared incredulously at the man; was he really going to pretend that Harry hadn’t seen what he just saw?

Dumbledore was focused on what Snape was saying. “How far did you get?”

“A brief flash of the hound getting blasted through the Veil, and then I was out.” Snape sounded almost bored.

His cold words seemed to startle Remus out of a daze. “Don’t let me ever hear you refer to Sirius like that again,” he said. Remus’s face was a mask, but Harry could hear the understated fury.

Snape turned to Remus with loathing clearly evident on his face. “As what, a hound, or an idiot to take a stunner in front of the Veil? My only regret is that I couldn’t have been there to see it happen and enjoy the moment firsthand.”

Harry flinched back as if struck; the shock of Snape’s cruel words on top of everything else was beginning to weigh on him as he sank down on to the couch. It was Remus who lost control. With a snarl, he pulled his fist back and slammed it into the Potions Master’s nose. Snape was flung back onto Dumbledore’s desk, his eyes burning with hatred.

“Severus, Remus, that is enough,” Dumbledore hissed, holding his arms out between the two. That feeling of raw power Harry had witnessed before emanated off the Headmaster. “We are all on the same side here. If we cannot control ourselves and work together, what hope do we have to offer anyone?”

“Dumbledore, I will give my life to you and this cause, but I will not tolerate anymore from him .” Remus spat the last word with disgust. “He isn’t worthy of even speaking Sirius’s name, and I will do exactly the same thing again if he attempts it. This session is over.” With that, Remus grabbed his cloak and stormed from the office without a word to Harry. No one moved to stop him.

Harry’s anger had deflated into a numb sort of horror. He sat stiffly on the couch staring at the other two in the room. Snape had taken a handkerchief and was blotting the blood from his nose, staring just a bit apprehensively at the Headmaster. Dumbledore had a stern set to his jaw and was glaring with displeasure at Snape. Harry could almost hear the words, stay put, we are going to discuss this , radiating off him.

He didn’t know how Dobby got there, but the little elf with the large, tennis ball-like eyes was bouncing in front of him fretfully. “Is Harry Potter all right, sir? Does Harry Potter need for Dobby to be taking care of him?”

“Dobby,” Dumbledore interrupted before the elf could get carried away in his exuberance, “please take Harry back to Gryffindor tower. Make certain he arrives there safely.”

“Yes, sir.” The little figure bounced on the soles of his feet, delighted to be assisting Harry.

“Harry, get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Harry nodded numbly and allowed Dobby to lead him from the room.

__________

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