Full Moon

28: Full Moon

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.

As the students returned to the castle and classes resumed, it was with an air of heavy sadness. The attacks that had happened on Christmas were widespread and devastating, focusing mainly on Ministry workers, Muggle-born students and their families. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff had all lost several students; only Slytherin House remained intact.

None of the Gryffindors in Harry’s year had been killed, but Dean Thomas had lost his stepfather. Suddenly, the animosity that had been built between them seemed so inconsequential to Harry, and he reached out a hand to Dean on his return. Dean took it and nodded grimly.

Gryffindor lost three students, all in the lower years, and Harry had not known any of them personally. He still added their names to the silent and growing list in his head. In the days following the prophecy’s revelation to his friends, Harry’s heart had lightened considerably. He was calmer and able to think more rationally; the huge burden he had carried for too long had been lifted from his shoulders. In sharp contrast, all three of his friends were much more tense, and dark circles appeared beneath all their eyes.

They were short with each other and with Harry. Ron and Hermione’s bickering had reached new levels. Harry was saddened to be the cause of it, but held his tongue and let them work through it. He’d certainly been testy enough in the past; it was his turn to take it.

The return of the other students, however, brought the grief and reality of the situation crashing back down upon him. All this pain, all this suffering… it was still connected to him. Voldemort may have been the one causing it, but it was Harry’s duty to stop it, and the longer it took him to find a way to do this, the more people would suffer. Harry’s silent list of names was his responsibility. The longer he took to prepare, the more lives would be lost.

Since neither Remus nor Tonks were able to continue Harry’s training, Dumbledore told him someone else would be arriving at Hogwarts to take over the responsibility. Harry wasn’t certain yet when this person would arrive, so he used his free periods to continue on his own with the training Tonks had begun. He started running again, although on the first day he had to use drying charms to clear a path through the snow on the Quidditch pitch, to make a track on which to run.

Classes resumed, and Professor Trent began teaching them some dueling techniques. Harry was still having trouble figuring her out. Her lessons were good, and he thought some of the information she taught to them would be very useful. There was something cold about her – very distant – and he wondered how she and his mother had been friends. From everything he’d heard about his mother, she’d been nothing like this stranger. This woman was aloof and almost superior-sounding when she lectured. In some ways, she reminded Harry of Malfoy.

Professor Trent was a common topic of conversation in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione, who, until hearing of the prophecy, had pretty much ceased all their spats, continued to argue over their Defense teacher. Hermione continued to defend her, and Ron continued his suspicions. Harry had long since suspected that neither of them was looking at Professor Trent clearly anymore and only holding steadfast to their own view point. Neither would ever back down from an argument, and Harry was getting frustrated, wishing he could get some objectivity.

It was getting close to curfew, and he hurried to get back to Gryffindor tower on time. Tonight was the full moon, and Harry’s nerves were shot. Although Remus had yet to regain consciousness, he was making progress. If he’d had an open wound, or Wormtail had punctured his skin with the silver hand, Remus would have been dead long ago. The doctors at St. Mungo’s had been extracting the poison from his blood as slowly and painstakingly as possible, but tonight would be the test. When the moon was full, Remus would transform, and if there was any silver left in his system, it would destroy him.

He didn’t want to sit in the common room and talk about it, as he knew Hermione would. He didn’t want to sit still at all, and had instead been in the Room of Requirement, preparing for the DA meeting later in the week. If he stopped and allowed himself to think, Harry thought he might crack, so he kept pushing himself forward. Ginny seemed to understand his need and hadn’t pressured him to talk about it.

As he was about to round the corner near the DADA room, he saw Professor Trent and Malfoy in the corridor ahead. He ducked back into the shadows and tried to strain his ears to hear what they were saying. They appeared to be arguing, but he couldn’t make out the words of the raised voices. Malfoy was gesturing wildly, but Trent’s expression remained unmoved. Malfoy had a petulant look on his face that reminded Harry of a spoiled child unused to being reprimanded. He’d seen that same expression on Dudley’s face many times before.

Professor Trent raised her arm and pointed her finger with determination. Malfoy stalked off like the sulky child he was. Harry had to grin, although he wished he could have heard Malfoy getting told off. It was only then that it clicked with Harry that he should have tried to use Legilimency, although he was unsure if Professor Trent would have been able to pick up his presence if he had done so.

He realized it was nearly time for curfew, so he quickly ran until he reached the Fat Lady and entered the common room. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting there waiting for him and seemed relieved to see him.

“We were getting worried; you almost missed curfew,” Ginny said, smiling and moving her legs to make room for him on the couch where she was sitting.

“We were about to come looking for you,” Ron said.

“I got held up near the DADA classrooms. I saw Malfoy arguing with Professor Trent over something, but I couldn’t hear what,” Harry replied.

“How do you know they were arguing?” Ron asked. “Maybe they were plotting something.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. “No. She almost seemed like she was scolding him.”

“Maybe he had a detention,” Ginny said, thinking out loud.

“Could be. You should have seen Malfoy stomp away as if he were a big baby. I wonder what she said to him.” Harry said, grinning at the memory.

“Maybe she said that he isn’t the best dueler in the school – not even close,” theorized Ron, warming to his topic with a malicious twinkle in his eye.

Harry couldn’t help but grin along with Ron; Malfoy-bashing was one of his favorite hobbies. “Or that his Animagus form would be a ferret.”

Even Hermione grinned at that one. “Okay, it’s late. I’m heading up to bed; good night.”

“Me, too,” Ron said, yawning. “Are you coming, Harry?”

“I think I’ll sit down here a while,” Harry answered, avoiding making eye contact with anyone. He knew there would be no sleep for him this night, not until he heard about Remus, and he didn’t feel like torturing himself in his bed. He could do that just as easily down here with the lights still blazing.

“I’ll stay up with you a while,” Ginny said, and he smiled at her gratefully.

Ron and Hermione made their good-nights and headed up to bed. Harry and Ginny stayed on the couch as the other occupants of the common room headed upstairs one by one until only the two of them were left.

Harry silently watched the moon in the sky from the window, lost in thought, until Ginny tugged him over and placed his head on her lap. “He’s going to be okay, Harry.”

“How can you be certain?”

Ginny shrugged and began stroking her fingers through his hair; he always loved when she did that to him. “I don’t know…just wishful thinking, I suppose, but we need to believe it. I think it’s important for us to believe in him; it will keep him strong.”

Harry felt a shiver run through him, and he pulled himself tighter into her body. “I hope so, Gin.” She continued to play with his hair, as they silently stared out the window. It was a clear night, and the moon shone brightly. The peacefulness seemed to belittle Harry’s inner turmoil. “I really hate this waiting,” he finally blurted.

“I know; it’s awful, isn’t it?”

“I always wonder how I get myself into the situations I do, and why I always end up being involved in whatever trouble is going on. But sitting here, just waiting and wondering… I’d so much rather be doing something than sitting around waiting to hear.”

“Well, now you know how the rest of us feel when it’s you who’s hurt or off on one of your adventures, and we’re stuck here waiting for news.”

Harry was stunned; he’d never thought about it that way. “I’m sorry,” he stammered truthfully.

“Oh, Harry! I’m not trying to give you yet another reason to feel guilty, just agreeing with you that the waiting is very hard.”

Harry rolled over so he was lying flat on his back, looking up at her, his head still resting on her lap. She grinned at him in mock innocence. “Just staring at the moon is making us crazy; we need to find something to occupy ourselves while we wait. What should we do to pass the time? I can’t think of anything interesting in this dark, empty room, can you?” She batted her eyes dramatically.

Harry grinned at her. “I think my girlfriend is a scarlet woman.”

“You wish,” Ginny scoffed, as she leaned over and gently nipped at his lower lip.

Harry sat up and twisted to face her. She placed a hand on each side of his face and brought him closer for a gentle, tender kiss.

Harry wasn’t certain what happened, but, as it usually did when she was near him, the overpowering need to have her closer overtook him suddenly. He grabbed her shoulders and began devouring her lips with his own. He wasn’t certain why he always felt so out of control when he kissed her, but he didn’t really want to think about anything except what he was doing, and the feeling of what she was doing to him. He nudged her backwards until she was lying on the couch as he continued to plant kisses down the length of her neck. Ginny’s moan of pleasure spurred him on, and he lost himself in the delicious feelings assailing his senses.

He nipped gently at her neck and tugged on her earlobe, thrilling at the sensation of her fingers running along his ribcage through his T-shirt. He felt a tremendous need, almost desperation, for more of her, as he ran his hands along her sides. His heart pounded in his chest, and all awareness fled from him.

He wasn’t certain how long they lay there, lost in each other and the pleasurable sensations of kissing one another. His mind suddenly flashed on Remus, and it was like a bucket of ice being dropped on him from above. How could he be here enjoying himself like this, when Remus was fighting for his life? What is wrong with me?

He pulled back sharply from Ginny, jumped off the couch, and began pacing back and forth, running his hands through his already tousled hair. He struggled to get his breathing back under control, but he was taking great gulps of air as his revulsion over his own actions took over.

“Harry?” Ginny questioned, her lips swollen from kissing.

“How can we be doing this while Moony is… when he might be… ” he broke off with a cry, unable to finish the thought.

Ginny grabbed his hands in her own and pulled him back onto the couch. She ran a hand through her hair and struggled with her own breathing. “Harry, we may have gotten carried away, but… not because we’re not thinking about him. I know you’re worried about him; I can see the anguish in your eyes. But, no matter what happens with him tonight, you know that he wants you to carry on with living.”

Harry stared at her desperately, knowing she was right, but wanting reassurance, anyway. “He said if we give up on living, Voldemort wins.”

“And he’s right; you know he’s right. He’s a Marauder, Harry; don’t tell me you don’t think he wouldn’t have spent any time snogging when he had the chance.”

Harry gave her a small smile. “With Sirius, I’d agree with that; I’m not certain about Moony. He always seems more sensible than Sirius was.”

“Sirius probably would have been doing a lot more than snogging,” she said before she could stop herself and colored brightly.

Harry laughed out loud as his own face turned red. “You’re probably right. I wish they would tell us something.”

“Dumbledore said he’d let us know in the morning; he probably thinks you’re asleep.”

“I can’t sleep; I’m just going to wait here. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.” Ginny relaxed back into the couch and gently pulled Harry next to her. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“Before, when we were… was there a voice in your head telling you to slow down?”

Harry thought about it for a minute. “I think so, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah, me either. Something about when you kiss me makes it very hard for me to think straight.”

Harry grinned wolfishly and held her tightly. “That’s one legend I don’t think I’ll mind having.”

She swatted him on the arm. “Prat.”

He put his head on her shoulder, and she kissed the top. Harry grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over the two of them. They dozed off and on, kissed a little, talked a little, but mostly spent the long night waiting, wondering, and hoping for Remus’s survival.

Harry and Ginny were both still sitting on the couch in the common room when the other students made their way downstairs the next morning. Both were pale and had dark rings beneath their eyes from lack of sleep. They were subdued and distant, each clinging to the other’s hand in desperation.

Hermione was one of the first people to come downstairs, and she sat on the couch opposite them, looking over their drawn appearances with disapproval in her eyes. “Neither of you slept at all, did you? It’ll do no one any good if you make yourselves sick, you know.”

“We know, Hermione,” Ginny answered calmly, knowing Harry didn’t have it him to respond. “We’d just hoped there would have been some news by now.”

“No one has come by at all?” Hermione queried, casting a glance at the portrait hole with apprehension. “Well, it’s not like they expect you’d be up; there’s nothing you can do.”

Ginny shook her head, the dread in her belly increasing, feeling it couldn’t be a good sign. She wanted to sidetrack Hermione before her logical analysis of the situation made Harry explode. As if on cue, the portrait hole swung open, revealing the tired yet stern-looking face of Professor McGonagall. “Harry,” she said, her eyes softening slightly. “If you would, come with me, please?”

Ginny felt Harry stiffen and grab her hand even more tightly, as he slowly rose to his feet. He took hesitant steps towards Professor McGonagall; as if his mind were rebelling against the direction his feet were carrying him. Both she and Hermione stood up, too, and joined him on each side, where they stood shoulder to shoulder. Whatever happened, they weren’t about to let Harry face it alone. As if understanding their silent solidarity, Professor McGonagall nodded slightly and allowed all three to follow her to her office. Harry held Ginny’s hand so tightly that it was painful.

Professor McGonagall closed the door and moved to her desk. Ginny shut her eyes and whispered a silent plea that this would be good news. She cast a sidelong look at Harry’s profile; his face was a dark, expressionless mask, but Ginny could feel his anxiety, nonetheless. “Please,” her mind whispered. “He’s had all he can take.”

Professor McGonagall’s hard face softened, and she smiled slightly. “I think I have some news that will please you. Remus Lupin survived the night. While he’s still unconscious, the healers are very encouraged that he should eventually make a full recovery.”

Ginny felt Harry’s body sag against her, almost like all the air being let out of a tire. It was as if the only thing keeping him standing after the endless days of worry was the need for that news. If it weren’t for the support of Ginny and Hermione on either side of him, Ginny was certain he would have hit the floor. Just as suddenly as the energy had left him, it seemed to return in a blast, as Harry let out a whoop of glee and picked Ginny off her feet, spinning her around.

The joyous smile on his face filled Ginny’s heart with tenderness, as he exclaimed, “Did you hear that? He’s going to be all right!” He spun her again before turning and doing the same thing to Hermione. Hermione was shocked but laughed in relief along with him. He leaned over and kissed Ginny full on the mouth, and she hugged him tightly, whispering silent words of thanks.

Professor McGonagall smiled in indulgence at her three students before adding, “Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore also asked me to inform you that your regular lessons will resume on Monday. He has recruited the help of an old friend of his to continue while Mr. Lupin is in hospital. You will be meeting with Mr. Jonathan Taylor in the Room of Requirement. He asks that you keep this information to yourself.”

Ginny noticed the questioning look Harry gave her, his eyes briefly flickering to indicate Hermione and her own presence. Professor McGonagall’s mouth thinned into a line. “Come now, Mr. Potter, we are well aware that what you know, your friends know.” Harry’s cheeks colored brightly, but he offered no denial. Ginny knew he was far too caught up in his relief over Remus to be too worried about Jonathan Taylor right now. That would come later.

********

Harry spent the remainder of the week preparing for the DA meeting. Tonks had used the fire in the common room to let him know that Remus had woken up briefly, but was still pretty out of it. With his tension over Remus’s condition eased, Harry put his energy full force into the preparations. Since Professor Trent was highlighting dueling, he decided to set up some mock duels between the members of the DA.

After the first few meetings, all the Slytherins had stopped attending. This was most likely because of Professor’s McGonagall’s presence, Harry assumed. They were all back tonight, however, and he groaned inwardly at their timing. Professor Trent had informed him that she’d referred some students to attend the dueling and wondered if this was what she and Malfoy had been arguing about in the corridor . Malfoy would certainly resent being sent to me for instruction.

“Welcome back,” Harry began. “The sixth-years have been working on dueling techniques in Defense, so I thought we’d begin tonight with some mock duels. Disarming only,” he stressed, looking particularly hard at Malfoy. “Learning how to perform the spells is one thing, but in an actual battle, sometimes it’s the ability to think on your feet that will be your greatest ally. This way, you’ll get some idea on how you’ll react.”

“And are you going to be giving us a demonstration?” Malfoy drawled with a bored expression.

“No. Why don’t you do that for us, Draco?” Harry asked in the most polite voice he could muster. I can’t let Malfoy disrupt this class; I have to hold my temper.

Malfoy’s eyes squinted with malice. “Against you?”

“No. I’m instructing here tonight. Is there anyone else who’d like to duel first?” Harry asked, hoping he’d get a volunteer. He saw Ron’s eyes light up with the potential of getting back at years of Malfoy’s taunts. Harry tried not to catch his eye and looked for someone else. A duel between Malfoy and Ron would get ugly fast. Before he could scan the room at all, Neville’s voice rang out, “I’ll do it.”

Everyone turned to stare in surprise at the usually reticent boy. Malfoy was smirking, as if he couldn’t be serious, and Harry knew that if anyone deserved a go at Malfoy, it was Neville. Harry had been thinking a lot about Neville and his role in the prophecy lately. He had tossed the idea around of whether or not he should inform Neville of its contents, but decided against it. Neville didn’t need that kind of guilt.

It gave Harry a new appreciation for Dumbledore’s predicament over when was the right time to tell Harry. Although he still felt the Headmaster had waited too long, he could better understand his reasoning. Dumbledore believed Harry was the subject of the prophecy. Harry was the one marked by the scar and, somehow, deep within his heart, he knew it was true. He’d always known on some level; the words of the prophecy had only sealed it. He and Voldemort were connected, and there could only be one way to break that bond. Neville didn’t need to know that it could have been him; it wouldn’t change anything. This was Harry’s burden.

“Very good. Both of you come up to the front of the room, and, remember, the object of the duel is to disarm only.”

Harry saw Professor McGonagall watching carefully, an expression of mixed dread and incredulity on her face. Harry leaned in close to Neville so only he could hear. “You can do this, Neville. You were great last year at the Department of Mysteries, and Malfoy is by no means as good in battle as a Death Eater is. Don’t let him intimidate you; his words are one of his weapons. Use a Silencing Charm if you need to, but don’t let him get to you. You can do this.”

Neville smiled gratefully at Harry; the words of praise seeming to bolster him up. He still looked nervous, but he also looked determined. Harry turned to face Malfoy. “You know the rules. I want a clean fight.”

Malfoy nodded. “This should only take a moment.”

The two opponents bowed to one another and took three steps back. Malfoy raised his arm first and drawled lazily, “ Expelliarmus .”

Neville dodged with a grace that belied what they all knew about the clumsy boy. “ Stupefy ,” he shouted, and Malfoy barely got out of the way in time. Harry noticed the Slytherin’s eyes widen in surprise and couldn’t help the brief smirk he gave to Neville.

Both parried back and forth through a barrage of curses. Harry was pleased to note that a sweat broke out on Malfoy’s forehead. Neville was sweating heavily, as well, but his gaze was focused. Finally, Malfoy blasted a quick “Petrificus Totalis” that Neville didn’t quite get out of the way of in time, and Malfoy disarmed him. Malfoy won the battle, but it was Neville who earned the respect of the others gathered there, most of whom had never seen him perform that well.

It took Malfoy a moment to shrug off the stunned expression he’d worn throughout most of the duel, and his smugness returned in force. Harry removed the curse from Neville and helped him to his feet. “You did well, Neville. You should be proud.” Neville beamed, and Harry could tell he was.

They went through several other match-ups, including the quickest one of all, between Ginny and Parvati, ending with Ginny holding the older girl’s wand before Parvati had even registered what had happened. Harry couldn’t help the pride that shone on his face.

As the meeting adjourned, and Professor McGonagall left, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny remained to help Harry clean up the room. Harry noticed Malfoy staring at Ginny in a way he didn’t like at all. Shutting his eyes and trying to close out the room around him, he attempted to pick up on the other boy’s thoughts. He knew that by dating Ginny he’d made her a target, and he wasn’t about to let anything happen to her. If Malfoy was reporting back to anyone, Harry was going to find out about it.

He got flashes of desire, scorn, and the need for power. He detected a thought about what he’d like to do to Ginny after Harry was out of the way, and he lost it. Launching himself at Malfoy and flinging him against the wall, he drew his fist back to strike a blow. Surprised, Ron caught him before he could make the connection and pulled him back.

“Harry! What the–” Ron began.

“You keep your filthy eyes and mind off of her,” Harry interrupted, snarling at Malfoy. Ron struggled to hold him back, as Harry fought to get closer to Malfoy.

Hermione and Ginny realized what was going on and moved between the two boys. “Just go, Malfoy,” Hermione hissed.

“I’ll go when I’m ready. What’s going on with you, Potter? I wasn’t looking at your,” his eyes went up and down Ginny’s body slowly, “girlfriend. And what did you mean by keep my mind off her? One would think you were trying to read my thoughts, but you certainly couldn’t do that.”

Malfoy was looking at Harry calculatingly, and Harry cursed under his breath for being so stupid. How could I let Malfoy goad me like that?

“Let’s see if you can get in my head now. Here’s a thought for you,” Malfoy taunted as he walked past Harry, brushing forcefully into his shoulder. Harry felt a slam of bitter anger as he picked up Malfoy’s thoughts. “You’re dead, Potter. Sooner than you may think, you’ll be a dead man, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Harry gasped against the rise of nausea and watched Malfoy’s back with narrowed eyes.

“What was that all about?” Ginny demanded after he had left.

“Malfoy knows something,” Harry replied. His eyes remained on the now empty doorway from which Malfoy had left. Now, he had to find out what it was.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. Please read and review and let me know! I couldn’t kill Remus; he’s one of my favorites. Originally all the Dursleys were supposed to be offed in that battle. A good friend and fellow writer pointed out that I was only killing them because I hated them, not because it had anything to do with the plot. She was right (thanks Nice_Hobbitses!) and so the Dursleys lived. For now.

I must admit, it also left me plenty of room for a sequel if I ever decide to do one. So anyway, I figured I’d ‘fess up.

Thank you to my wonderful betas, Mistral, who has to be the quickest editor on the planet; and ChaoticK, who got through this chapter despite having a child head off to college. Don’t worry; she’ll be home with her laundry!!

[B/N: She has, too! Nice to know that we’re useful for something still.]

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