There are no excuses for my long absence. None. Shame. Shame. Please accept this humble offering as my penance.
CHAPTER VI: The Great Escape(s)
Remus was pacing. It was so odd to be pacing. Padfoot paced; Remus was calm. Not so today. Not when waiting for the clock to chime and make this particular firecall.
The flames flashed green and a head appeared in the fireplace. He would deny to his dying day that he jumped a foot and shrieked like a girl at the sight.
"Snape!" Remus hissed. "I'm supposed to call you. What the hell do you think you're playing at?"
"Sit down Lupin, you're not supposed to be a caged animal today."
Scowling, the werewolf drew his chair closer to the fire. "There are reasons why I should be the one calling. First off, how did you get through the wards that prohibit calling ahead without announcing?"
"I'm using the headmaster's fireplace, but that is hardly relevant at this moment," Snape informed him derisively. "What is important is if after doing the required reading of the pedantic and highly biased disclosure information of the European Potions Association for verbalized and marginally sentient test subjects you agree to proceed with the trials."
Remus rubbed his hands on his knees and nodded, pushing the thought of horrific side effects aside. As long as it was guaranteed the Wolfsbane trials didn't result in his death he was more than willing to try anything. "Yes, yes. I want to go through with it."
"You realize that the ingredients for the testing are yours to provide and are very, very . . . costly," Snape said smiling thinly. "I'm sure your friend would give you your allowance in advance to take care of your special needs."
As if I'm going to pay you one single knut for being subjected to your testing procedures. "Thank you for your concern Snape, but I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," Remus retorted tiredly. Gods would the man ever get new material? If he was this boring in class, no wonder Harry failed.
"Really? You're taking care of yourself?" the Potion Master asked with mock surprise. "Even with the new legislation going through the Ministry? What was it again? Prohibiting werewolves from working, wasn't it?" He asked snidely.
"They'll always be those who need my services, legislation or no legislation. You, as a potion master understand that I'm sure-- the choice of your pocketbook over the law?" Lupin asked idly watching the flame colored head purple with reaction at the thinly veiled reference to the Ministry investigation into Snape's work not three years ago.
"You? Services? As what? A handy execution method?"
Remus leaned back in his chair ignoring the insult with long practice. Now they were getting somewhere. "There is a significant value to people like me as you have in the past been so kind to point out. Say, for instance the value of my fur."
Snape stilled, suddenly very attentive.
"How much does it cost," Remus continued on staring at the ceiling as if the topic was not of chief interest, "for fur from a werewolf, live, un-drugged, cut under the light of the full moon and not a windowless cell tainted and stained with blood?"
"Are you suggesting some sort of trade?" Snape asked carefully.
"Ingredients for ingredients," Remus said cooly. "I think that is fair."
"And you can promise fur, harvested under the moonlight, untainted, pure?" The Potion Master said, a hint of eagerness evident in his voice.
Gotcha. "Yes. And in return you will let me try your new potion and--"
"I want the fur first," Snape demanded cutting Moony off. "This full moon get what you can and next month you'll have your Wolfsbane."
"I understand what you want, but I want the Wolfsbane this moon, and as for the fur . . ." Carefully drawing the brown paper wrapped packet from behind him, Remus opened it to show its contents to Snape's avid gaze. "You get a portion of the fur every month after you provide me with the potion, the instructions for taking it, list of known side effects, and all seventeen standard werewolf recovery potions. I promise you, you'll not a single strand before."
Remus swore he could hear Snape's teeth grinding at the very thought. Lupin carefully brushed his fingers over the silvery tufts of fur. Harry had managed to get quite a lot. He held in his hands a fortune; in Potion making every single hair obtained in such pristine condition was invaluable.
"Agreed," Snape growled at last.
Now who's the animal? Remus thought with a bitter smile.
"I'll be in contact with you in roughly fifteen days," Snape said, and then he was gone.
Something soft landing on his head woke Harry. Scrambling about in his bed, Harry blinked blearily over at his dorm mates.
Another feather missile struck him squarely in the face. Sputtering and pushing aside the pillow he barely had time to make room on his bed before Ron jumped on it.
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "You're here! What happened? How did you get here?"
"I-- er . . ."
"Hey, Harry, you made it after all!" Seamus crowed as he pushed back his covers and got up. "Ron said you got stuck in the barrier. Is it true? What was it like? Could you breathe?" he asked eagerly.
"Of course he could breathe otherwise he would have suffocated," came the muffled retort from Dean who was still hiding beneath his covers.
Harry scrambled for an answer that didn't involve mentioning he was an illegal Animagus or that he was currently being stalked by a house elf. "It was just temporarily blocked; I found a way to get here."
"Unbelievable! How? No one else could apparate away from the platform or get in from the Muggle side of the station. Did you apparate?" Seamus asked excitedly.
"Don't be ridiculous," Dean said, his head popping out for a moment, eyes still closed against the early light. "Harry probably just flew on his Nimbus 2000."
"Yes," Harry agreed hurriedly. "I flew."
"Were you seen?" Ron asked wide eyed.
"Er, no."
"Ha! That'll show Malfoy," the red head said with pleasure. "Him and his stupid stories of flying along side muggle arro plans and heilo boppers."
"Maybe we should wake Neville and get down to breakfast," Harry put in, wanting the subject changed. He shoved aside his blankets and wriggled down off the bed.
"Oh! Of course. You missed the feast, you must be starved!" Ron exclaimed. "Oi! Nev! Get up! Harry's here!"
Harry had just started on his porridge when the owl post came. He didn't bother looking up as Hedwig was no doubt resting after a long flight. Instead he kept nodding absently as Hermione happily showed him the research she had managed to do on magical barriers, anti-apparation wards, and ministry transportation services in the last eight hours alone.
Fortunately for Ron, who was just about to start banging his head on the table in an effort to interrupt Hermione's lecture, a bedraggled grey owl fell into the milk jug.
"Errol!" Ron cried, trying to righten the limp, soggy creature.
"There's a letter," Harry noticed as he used his napkin to wipe off some of the milk from the ancient owl's feathers.
Ron pulled it free. "It's from Mum," Tearing open the envelope two pieces of paper fell out. Managing to rescue them both from the strawberry jam on his plate he glanced at the letters. "Oi, Harry, this ones for you," he said handing it over to his friend. "Ginny!" he called down the table to his sister, seated proudly at Gryffindor.
The youngest Weasley did not look up from where she sat scribbling industriously into a battered notebook.
"Ginny!" Ron yelled again. "Ginny, there's a letter from Mum."
"She's busy preparing for class. Honestly, Ron, you can give her the letter later," Hermione said as she gave Errol a push so that he was airborne and off to the Owlry. She then dug around in her book bag and pulled out one of their school books, and propping it open began to read Voyages with Vampires.
Trying not to let the smiling face of Gilderoy Lockhart put him off his breakfast, Harry resumed eating with one hand, reading the post from Mrs. Weasley.
Dear Harry,
I hope you are doing well after that dreadful business at the Platform. Make sure you get enough to eat at meal times, lots of vegetables and soups. I'm sure if you do, by the next time I see you, you will have grown five inches. Arthur is looking into it at work and will find the troublemaker that caused this dreadful commotion at the Platform. Your guardian, Remus, was good enough to firecall us last night and let us know you were safe and sound in you dorm with our Ron. Remember to go to bed at a sensible hour, Harry. While it was all well and good you made it to Hogwarts on your own, Harry dear, you must remember that if you are lost the best thing to do is to remain where you are and don't talk to strangers unless they are Aurors. If anyone comes and tries to grab you if you are alone, remember to scream for help very loudly. Have a good term, and don't forget to change your underwear every night and wash your neck.
Dress warmly; the Wireless says winter will come fast this year. Don't forget your scarf and gloves if you go out to play.
Mrs. Weasley,
Ron's Mum
Harry smiled at the letter; he folded it and was tucking it into his pocket when he felt a prickling along the back of his neck.
Someone was watching him.
Slowly and carefully, Harry clenched his hand into a fist. In a single instant he was ready to draw his wand with a mere flick of his wrist. The only warning he had was a chirping, cheerful voice.
"Smile, Harry!"
Harry turned at the sound of his name, wand instinctively pointed at the threat and found himself blinded. Blinking furiously, Harry rubbed his eyes barely making out the figure with a camera before shooting off a stunning spell.
"Harry!" Ron yelped from beside him, putting down his glass and dragging his friend's wand arm down and away from a gibbering first year.
Mortified that he'd nearly blasted a fellow Gryffindor, Harry was quick to apologize. "I-I'm sorry. Not quite awake yet," he explained hurriedly, trying to ignore the stares and snickers of some other students. "I don't believe we've met, I'm--"
The first year seemed to have recovered from near hex and was now bouncing about in excitement. "Harry! Harry Potter, born July 31, 1980. You're the youngest seeker in a century and the Boy Who Lived," the blond boy breathlessly exclaimed. "I'm Colin. Colin Creevey. I know loads about you; I've read all about you too. I read it aloud to my dad and he wanted to see what you looked like, and there are no pictures of you, so I thought that I could get some and send them off to my dad. My Dad's a milkman. He was terribly excited when I got my Hogwarts letter. Up till then, everybody thought I was a bit mad what with doing magic and all."
"Imagine that," Ron said in a sotto voice. Tugging on a stunned Harry, he dragged his friend away from his new fan. "Sorry about that Colin, must be off to Herbology. Perhaps another time."
"Maybe we could set up a photo shoot? Some candid shots?" Colin called after the retreating pair. "A day in the life of the Boy Who Lived?"
Harry no longer needed Ron to drag him away from the Great Hall. At Colin's questions he put on speed and nearly ran out into the corridor eager to escape before his picture was once again taken and sold to the Daily Prophet or worse, the Crystal Ball.
"Good thing we got away when we did," Ron said as they hurried out the side entrance towards the greenhouses. "Another minute there and he would have asked you to let him found a Harry Potter fan club."
Harry shuddered. "Don't say things like that."
"Sorry," Ron said contritely. Looking about he realized they were short one bookish Gryffindor. "Where's Hermione?"
Harry stopped and looked about. "Did we leave her behind? With Colin?" he asked horrified.
"Hermione's going to kill us," Ron moaned.
"Or worse, get us expelled," Harry couldn't resist adding.
The red head blinked and the burst out laughing.
"You left me behind!" Hermione scolded as they put away the earmuffs, the danger of the mandrake call no longer an issue with them all repotted. "You should have heard him go on and on about you, Harry: What's Harry's favorite color? Does he have a favorite pudding? Do you think he would tell me how he defeated You-Know-Who if I asked him?" she said mimicking the slightly squeaky voice of Colin Creevey.
Harry winced. People wanted to know about that? He couldn't remember anything about October 31, 1981, the night he was supposed to have defeated Voldemort.
"Well at least he's a first year and we don't share any classes with him," Ron said, trying to offer Harry some hope. "All we have to do is keep Harry away from him in the common room and Great Hall."
"That shouldn't be too difficult," Hermione said slowly. "I mean, one boy with a camera is not the paparazzi no matter how star struck he is."
"Paper ratzi?" Ron asked as he pushed open the door of the green house. "What in Merlin's name is that? Some sort of slime monster or something?"
"No, Ron," Hermione said, exasperated. "It's not Paper ratzi, it's paparazzi."
"That's what I said!" The red head protested indignantly.
Knowing that the bickering would get worse before it got better, Harry hurried forward out of the greenhouse eager to escape being drawn into Round 24 of Ron vs. Hermione.
"No, you didn't!" The busy haired girl contended, her voice still loud enough for Harry to hear behind him. "Honestly, Ron--"
A flashbulb going off was all the warning Harry had of Colin before the boy leapt out of a tree.
Dropping all of his books, wand drawn and then put away just as quickly in frustration, the black haired boy could only sputter. "W-what? Tree? Colin! What are you doing?!"
"Wonderful," sneered an oh so familiar voice from behind him. "So now you've hired a photographer to document your life for the masses," Malfoy spat.
"Hi, Harry," Colin waved. "Do you suppose you could pose-- heroically of course --for some photos? The lighting is really good today."
Instead of answering the eager Gryffindor Harry turned to regard the Slytherin and his bodyguards. "Malfoy, since you seem to be so jealous, you probably have loads of free time to take pictures. Colin can take pictures of you instead. Colin?"
The blond first year fingered his camera nervously. "But Harry, pictures of you--"
"Colin," Harry said firmly, cutting him off. "You're dad won't care about pictures of just any student. He would want to see a picture of a wizard who has lived in the wizarding world. Colin, I'd like you to meet Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle. I'm sure they are a much better subject for your pictures than me."
"Really?" Colin asked warming to the idea.
"Really," Harry said assuredly. "Plus, if you do this you will make me very, very happy."
Raising his camera, the Gryffindor advanced on the pale Slytherin without another word of protest.
"Potter?" Draco asked, bewildered as the flash went off again blinding the silver haired boy.
"Enjoy being a celebrity, Malfoy. Perhaps you can do signings," Harry said innocently as he hurried away.
"Potter--?!" Malfoy called as he staggered about myopically.
"Do you think you could stand a bit more to the left, Draco? Can I call you Draco? And maybe your friends could stand just behind you?"
"POTTER!"
Nearly managing to escape into Hogwarts proper, Harry was foiled by perfumed turquoise robes.
"Harry, Harry, Harry!"
Gulping, Harry tried to wipe a look of annoyance off his face. "Professor Lockhart?" the boy asked carefully.
"Harry, Harry, Harry, I agree you are very young. Your life in public is just beginning but you should never give an opportunity to shine in public to someone else," the defense teacher scolded.
"Crabbe? Goyle!" Malfoy's rose to a desperate pitch behind him. Harry hid his smile. "Stop posing and Get Him OFF ME!" the pureblood howled.
"Could you two just turn your chins a bit more? Perfect!" click
"You are right, Professor," Harry said earnestly. "I-I don't really know how to . . . er . . . embrace the public properly."
"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry, it will come. Trust me, it will come. But you are just a boy. Why when I was your age, I was a nobody. Yes, Mr. Weasley," he commended to the red head who had managed to avoid Hermione and catch up with his friend. "I know it's hard to believe, shocking really. Now though . . . no need to step into the lime light just yet," Lockhart laughed. He then patted Harry on the shoulder and Harry tried not to flinch.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Lockhart called, attention shifting. "Mr. Malfoy that's not how to take a picture. Here, let me show you!" Eagerly the professor hurried towards the lone Gryffindor and the Slytherins.
"C'mon Ron," Harry said urgently, tugging on his friend's sleeve. "Let's leave before he comes back to talk to us," Harry said shuddering.
"Er, Harry?" Are you feeling all right?" Ron asked as they hurried around the base of the Ravenclaw tower towards the south entrance. "You just said embracing the public. Aloud."
Harry pushed open the door. "I'm on a mission, Ron. I can trust you with this, I know I can. I'm on a mission to find out the horrible truth behind Gilderoy Lockhart to save us all," he said solemnly. "Can I count on you to help?" He turned around and faced Ron, expression deadly serious, as he waited for his best friend's reaction.
"Oh thank Merlin. I thought you'd gone insane like Hermione!" Ron said with apparent relief. "If you need any help, I'm there. The man's a complete loony."
"Welcome to Defense against the Dark Arts. You are most fortunate this year to have a giant in the defense world teaching you. You have the honor of being exposed to the knowledge from Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award winner. You Have Me." Lockhart seemed to pause as if waiting for applause. The second year boys simply goggled in disbelief. The girls twittered and giggled.
"I am so glad I'm not a girl," Ron muttered to Harry. "Imagine walking around with mush for brains and giggling all the time."
Harry nodded in agreement as he sunk lower in his seat, hoping the Professor would not notice him.
"Now we are going to start with a little quiz about the extend of your knowledge of the key areas of defense. This will be a closed book quiz. Don't worry, this is a simple exam, easy to know, every-day common facts," Lockhart added upon hearing a groan from the class as he began to pass out the papers face down.
He stopped at Harry's desk. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he said with a sigh.
Harry was beginning to hate the way the man said his name.
"I know that you've done things in the Defense of our world, though not as exciting as my connection to the Ghoul communities. However, I must ask that you come prepared to class. Next time bring those set of books I gave you free at my book signing of Magical Me." Not even waiting for an answer, Lockhart dumped the rest of the quizzes on Ron's desk he motioned imperiously to the rest of the class. "Finish handing them out, would you?"
Rolling his eyes, Ron grabbed one and passed the others to the second year behind him.
"You all have twenty five minutes. Aaaand, Begin!" The blond wizard yelled as he flipped over the large hourglass in the front of the class.
Grabbing his quill, Harry turned over the quiz.
He turned it back face down.
Obviously he was seeing things.
Harry cautiously flipped through the quiz.
43. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite karaoke song?
44. Where does Gilderoy Lockhart shop for his bath loofa when abroad?
45. Why does Gilderoy Lockhart believe it is so important to give of yourself to the world?
46. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's preferred method of packing his trunk? Please list in order from bottom to top, the various layers of clothing, hair care, and other sundry items involved.
47. Where would Gilderoy Lockhart wish to spend his summer holidays?
48. What soft toy did Gilderoy Lockhart sleep with as a child?
49. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's happiest Christmas memory?
Harry closed his eyes and swallowed a groan. This was unbelievable.
Another year at Hogwarts. Another insane Defense Teacher.
"I can't believe both of you turned in blank quizzes. Blank! How is that possible?"
"It's very simple Hermione," Ron told her with false patience as they continued down the busy corridor towards the Great Hall and lunch, "We looked at the quiz and spent the next twenty five minutes trying to refrain from being sick all over it. You can't believe we turned them in blank? Well I can't believe you answered them all! Correctly!"
She bristled. "There is nothing wrong with getting a perfect score on a quiz and there is nothing wrong with being prepared for class."
"It's the second day back from holiday, the first Defense classof the term. What did you do, memorize his entire reading list?"
"So what if I did?" Hermione said hotly, hugging her books closer to her chest. "They were very informative. Professor Lockhart is an incredible wizard. We're very fortunate to have him teaching us."
"Mush," Ron whispered to Harry. "Hermione's brain has turned to mush. If she starts giggling I'm calling for an intervention." In a louder voice he continued. "If he were so incredible, why didn't he just put all of those Cornish pixies back in their cage, huh?"
She sniffed. "He just wanted to give us some hands-on experience dealing with dangerous creatures."
"Hands-on?" Harry said incredulously. "He let them hang Neville from the chandelier! He didn't even try to help, he just used that weird spell, Pekipiksi Pesternomi, which I've never even heard of and he couldn't even manage that! Did you see his wand? Not a single spark from it. Hermione, Sirius is right, that man hasn't got a clue! He didn't even seem to know what he was doing!"
"Rubbish," Hermione said. "His books are living proof that he's done and is capable of amazing things. How do you explain that?"
"He's says he's done them," Ron muttered darkly. Harry's eyes widened at that. Could that be it? "That doesn't mean--"
"No," Hermione continued staunchly, throwing Ron a dark glance. "This whole first day was a lesson in preparedness. And Harry, I've never seen you so unprepared in class. Why didn't youbring your books?" Hermione continued on.
The bespeckled wizard shrugged, unconcernedly. "Sirius burned them over holiday."
Ron goggled. "He burned Lockhart's books?"
"Who burned Professor Lockhart's books?" Hermione demanded aghast.
"Sirius did," Ron answered. At the girl's pale features, Ron hurriedly pointed to Harry. "He burned Harry's books. Not mine! I wasn't even involved. I swear!"
"Burn books? BURN BOOKS? LOCKHART'S BOOKS?" Sputtering Hermione froze in the corridor, completely lost for words and any voluntary bodily movement.
Exchanging a glance, Ron and Harry each took her by the arm and led her to the Great Hall for lunch.
"I hope she snaps out of this soon, we have potions after lunch," Ron muttered as they dragged their friend along.
Harry held a spoon full of carrots up to Hermione's lips.
Nothing, no response.
Sighing, Harry put down the utensil and poked at his own lunch. "You could help me with her," he said to Ron, gesturing at their stunned friend.
"I dunno, Harry. I think I sort of like her like this, all silent and unmoving," Ron said absently, head turned so that he could watch the commotion over at Slytherin table where Colin Creevey, brave Gryffindor to a fault, was attempting to have lunch with his new best friend Draco Malfoy. "How long do you think it will be before Snape gets involved over there?" Ron asked, gesturing with a chip towards the now purple faced Malfoy and the posing Crabbe and Goyle.
Seamus snickered and leaned over towards Harry. "Given how furiousMalfoy looks now, it won't be long before Gryffindor is in negative house points courtesy of Snape."
"Do you think we should, I don't know, rescue Colin?" Harry asked tentatively.
Both boys looked at him as if he were crazy. "This is brilliant. Why would you want to stop the torture and humiliation of Malfoy?" Ron asked.
"It's just that--" Harry began.
"Shush! There Snape goes!" Dean hissed as every Gryffindor watched the black robed figure of the Potion Master rise from his seat at the head table and descended towards the student tables. But Snape did not walktowards Slytherin where Colin was currently rearranging food on the table to create the perfect composition for his next shot of Draco, but towards Gryffindor and towards Harry.
"Mr. Potter," Snape said softly. The entire Great Hall was silent, every quiet word of the Potion Master heard clear as a bell. "Would you please explain to me why you have urged your housemates to molest and harass students from another house?"
Harry risked a glance over at the still form of Colin Creevey and the smirking face of Draco Malfoy. Right, so Malfoy thought he could tattle to his head of house did he? "I don't know anything about harassing students, sir. But I do know that Malfoy said he was giving out signed photographs tomorrow, thanks to Colin's hard work."
"That's a LIE!" Malfoy roared, shoving aside a grinning Colin. "He's the one--"
"My dear Severus!" Chimed a perfectly modulated tenor voice interrupting them all.
Harry was sure he was just imagining it, but it looked like Snape rolled his eyes at the sound of Professor Lockhart insinuating himself in the conversation.
"Is there something I can help with? I am after all renowned for my diplomatic dealings with trolls and other assorted creatures. Why I was even complimented by a Master Vampire once for my tact and graciousness in conversation. No doubt any little school boy fight I can surely help you with." Lockhart placed a warm hand on the Potion Master's shoulder and squeezed.
The entire Great Hall gasped in shock as the sight of Lockhart's audacity to actually come into physical contact with the most aloof and forbidding member of the staff.
"Oh, that's just wrong," Seamus whispered in horror.
Snape recoiled as if he just been struck with a pain curse. Struggling to remain calm and not curse the Defense teacher, Snape turned on his favorite target. "Detention, Potter. For your utterly depraved behavior!"
"Depraved?" Harry echoed in bewilderment. "What did I--"
"Your continued existence is an utter depravity and an offense against nature," the man spat. "Eight o'clock on Friday. And if you are late--" Snape began.
"Oh Severus, but I though we could spend some time on Friday going over potions. I did so want to show you my innovations towards helping werewolves, remember?"
"I believe that will be impossible, Lockhart, as you will be administering Potter's detention on Friday. Newest Professor and all that," Snape sneered, using the confusion on his co-worker's face to make his escape.
Harry shook his head, ready to run after and beg the Potions Professor to assign him to scrub cauldrons instead. Anything but spending an evening with Lockhart and hearing him say--
"Harry, Harry, Harry. Detention on Friday then. The price of being in the spotlight, my boy is to take the consequences of your actions with good grace. But don't worry, Harry, I won't make you do anything too strenuous,. We'll just answer my fan mail perhaps. You'll need some practice with that, won't you?" Lockhart laughed as he strode away.
Harry's shoulder slumped in desperation. He turned to look at the stunned face of his best friend. "Help me," he whispered.
"Mate, you're on your own," Ron commiserated sadly.
"Harry. Harry. HARRY!"
"Wha? Oliver, what are you doin' here?"
"Go back to sleep. Harry!"
"Stop shaking him. Harry won't wake up that way. Besides you sound just like Lockhart when you say that," Ron grumbled as he pulled himself out of bed and promptly tripped over his own shoes. "What? Who turned out the light? What time is it?"
"It's four something," Oliver said dismissively. "Harry? Oh for gods sake!"
"Stop shaking, that won't help," Ron repeated as he dragged himself over to Harry's bed.
"If you know so much, Weasley, you wake him," Wood snapped in frustration.
Ron glared at the sixth year in disgust. "What do you need Harry for anyway?" he asked peevishly. "I'm not just going to drag my best friend out of bed on your say so.
"Quidditch practice."
"Move. Just you moved," Ron ordered shoving aside the tall and burly sixth year. "Bloody idiot, just leave it to me." The red head felt around the bed and found the wooden posts of the canopy. "Gods, will you owe me for this, Wood. Just hope Harry forgives me for it later," he muttered as he rapped sharply on the posts.
Harry sprang up out of bed, knocking both boys flat. "I'm awake! I'm awake, Aunt!"
"Harry! Harry! It's Ron!" he said as he scrambled to his feet to grab his friend by the shoulders. "Harry?"
"Oh, will someone just get the bloody light?" Seamus yelled from his bed.
"Lumos," came a tired charm from Dean.
"Ron? What?" Harry said, looking around in confusion. "Where?"
"Here, glasses," Ron replied, shoving them into Harry's hands.
The black haired boy looked around and realized where he was and what was out of place. "Oliver?" he asked tentively. "What are you doing on the floor? What are you doing in our room? What time is it? Why is everyone awake?"
"Quidditch practice, Harry," the older boy managed, rallying quickly. "Grab your gear; I've booked us the pitch."
"At this hour? It's not even dawn, is it?" Harry said as his body leaned back towards the warmth of his bed.
"That's why it's perfect. C'mon. Last one to the pitch gives me five laps."
Harry stumbled off towards the shower barely awake.
"What was that all about?"Oliverasked Ron who had flopped tiredly back on his own bed.
"None of your business," Ron muttered as he hunted around for something to wear.
"Well, er, thanks anyway. I'll remember that trick if I ever need it," Oliver joked.
Ron's blue eyes nailed the older boy cold. "If you ever use that knocking to wake or scare Harry, I will know and I will kill you."
"R-right," The Quidditch Captain said with a shaky smile. "Sorry to bother you all. You can go on back to bed."
"Oh, no," Ron said, "Now that I'm up and bruised I might as well come along. Besides, I still haven't finished that stupid Defense essay on whether Lockhart is a winter or spring."
"I suppose you can watch," the older boy offered, "As long as you don't disturb practice or anything."
The red head rolled his eyes. "Please, this is Quidditch. Like I would do anything to disturb Quidditch."
It all ended in slugs.
"What happened?" Hagrid said as he hunted around his hutfor something to help with Ron's little "problem."
"We were having practice.Ron was there and Hermione was up early too to visit the library.Then the Slytherin team showed up," Harry explained looking more frazzled than usual if his inky hair was any indication. "They had a note from Professor Snape that said they could use the Quidditch pitch this morning."
"Those filthy cheats! Snape probably didn't write the note; it was a forgery and they just wanted to bleaaarg!"
"Here, use this," The giant man shoved a bucket into Ron's arms just in time.
"Anyway, they were there on special permission to train their new seeker, Malfoy--"
"Who had obviously bought his way on the team!" Hermione interjected furiously from where she stood, arms crossed, facing the wall, hiding her face from view. "His pureblood father bought the whole team Nimbus 2001s so they would let Malfoy on as seeker."
"Which is rather odd, since when Malfoy flies he really is much better as a Chaser. You would think he would go for a position he was at least good at," Harry wondered.
"It might have more ter do with jealousy than talent, his choice of Quidditch positions, Harry," Hagrid explained. "But that doesn't explain slugs."
Harry squirmed under the man's frank gaze. "Colin was there taking pictures of Malfoy," he admitted.
"Oh yes, I heard about that!" Hagrid said with a laugh. "Pretty quick thinking' there, Harry. Talk of the staff room the other day. Rather a cunning plan too, giving Malfoy exactly what he wished for and leavin' him ter stew in it. Pretty Slytherin really," he said with a wink.
"Slytherin?" Ron's voice rose indignantly. "Slytherin?! Harr-aargghkth!"
"Well, we all got a bit of the other Houses in us, now don't we? Go on, Harry."
Harry took a deep breath and just spilled it all. "So Colin was there, and Malfoy shoved him and then Hermione and Ron came over to help and there were lots of insults going around and Flint punched Oliver and they started wrestling on the ground and Colin's camera got stepped on ruining the film and he started crying almost and then Malfoy . . . Malfoy called Hermione a-a . . ."
"A mudblood," Hermione spat tearfully. "He called me a mudblood. And I don't know what it means but it must be something awful, something really foul because-- because everyone just stopped a-and they all looked at me as if I was some sort of leaper or-or something and then half the team jumped him and Ron t-tried to hex him and . . . slugs!" she finished throwing herself into Hagrid's oversized chair.
"He WHAT?" Hagrid growled in outrage.
"It means dirty-blood. It's an insult to people who don't come from pureblood, all wizard families like the Malfoys," Harry explained softly.
"So prejudice and bigotry are alive and well in the Wizarding world just like in the muggle world," Hermione said. "I thought things would be better here, that I'd have friends and be more than just the Brain. And I do have friends now, but people still hate me but now they hate me for something else that I have no control over!"
"It doesn't really mean anything, this pureblood thing," Ron said. "Not everyone thinks that way. It's nearly never used except by foul mouthed little bastards like Malfoy. Besides no one's really pureblood anyway. Everything's mixed."
"Really?" Hermione asked surreptitiously wiping her tears away looking towards Harry and Hagrid for reassurance.
Harry remained silent. Tolerance in the Wizarding world was a dream, a happy facade that hid a system biased and mired in its own made up rules and hierarchies. But Harry was not about to tell Hermione that, to tell her that there had never been a Minister of Magic who was muggle born, or that half breeds and sentient magical beings were treated like beasts and put down like animals. Harry was not about to tell Hermione that the last war that nearly ended the Wizarding world was a war about bloodlines and bigotry.
"Everyone's mixed," Hagrid echoed after the long silence. "Even the Malfoys I'll bet, though they don't want to admit it. Besides yeh are one of the brightest witches here, Hermione. Don't ever sell yerself short. There ain't a spell around that yeh couldn't do," the giant man scolded good naturedly. "Now since yeh are here so early instead of on Saturday, I think I'll show you my surprise."
The Gamekeeper lead them out behind his hut towards his garden, even Ron, who came cradling his bucket. "There!" Hagrid pointed out with his pink umbrella at the pumpkin patch where huge orange specimens lay golden in the dawn's light.. "Ain't they beautiful?" Hagrid said proudly. "I've been asked to grow them this year by Professor Sprout herself, what with her bein' so busy with the Mandrakes. They'll be the hit of Halloween this year. Yer sister liked them, Ron. She was out here yesterday. Said she wanted ter get familiar with Hogwarts and all. I think she jest wanted ter see if a certain someone was here visitin' me," Hagrid said with a wink in Harry direction which went completely over Harry's head, figuratively and literally.
"Who did she want to see?" Harry asked in curiosity.
Ron's renewal of vomiting slugs prevented Hagrid from expounding further on the adventures of one Ginny Weasley.
"Those are some of the biggest pumpkins I've ever seen," Hermione said. "Do you use growth potions, Hagrid?"
Harry squinted at the garden patch quizzically. "They're huge. It almost looks like an engorgement charm, but a bit off."
The large man looked almost flustered at the question. "Er, well Harry, there weren't no magic involved. Jest good old fashioned manure."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, "Because it does look like a charm, but something must be wrong with your wand. Maybe I could. . . Hagrid? Why are you disguising your wand as an umbrella?" he said, brow furrowing.
"N-no particular reason, really," he said hurriedly, tucking the umbrella into one of his numerous pockets in his mole skinned coat.
"It's broken!" Harry blurted out, realizing why the magic on the pumpkins looked warped and why the umbrella's magic appeared twisted. "You're wand's broken!"
Ron looked up from his bucket. "I've got some spello-tape if you want to put it back together. Had to use it to keep the unicorn hairs from falling out of my wand."
"Spello-tape won't help a broken wand," Hermione said. "We need a professionals help. How did it break, Hagrid?"
"W-well, here's the thing --" the giant man flustered.
"Did you sit on it?" Ron asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Bill once sat on his. Mom screamed at him all afternoon."
"I can write to Sirius," Harry offered helpfully. "He helped make is own wand; he could have some tips on fixing it if you don't want anyone to know about the, er, sitting."
"Wands are such volatile things. No, I think it would be better to go straight to Ollivanders and buy a new one, Hagrid," Hermione said staunchly.
Harry shook his head in disagreement. "Wands are special, alive almost. If you don't inherit a family wand but get your own first wand and learn your first spells with it, it bonds with you. It is very, very difficult for any second wand to respond as wellas the original wand without powerful magic and a unique and sympathetic wand core. That's why snapping a person's wand is such a terrible punishment; it literally means the end of magic. Sirius had to arrange for a dual core with custom made, very rare wood. It took weeks to make. It cost a lot too. Sirius could help you, Hagrid. You could--"
"Yeh don't understand," Hagrid said wretchedly as he seemed to collapse on a tree stump. "My wand got broke on purpose. I'm not rightly supposed to be even doin' magic."
"Why? Why would anyone break your wand?" Harry asked in shock.
"I got expelled," Hagrid confessed.
"Expelled?!" Hermione said horrified at the thought.
"From Hogwarts, in my third year."
"But-but, I though you couldn't get expelled from Hogwarts!" Hermione wailed. Ron and Harry looked at her in shock.
"After all your moaning about it last year? You thought they didn't expel people and you still whined about it?" Ron said incredulously through a mouthful of slug. He spat and continued. "You get expelled, they snap you wand, and you're never ever allowed to do magic again!"
"WHAT?" Hermione shrieked.
"What did you think happened? I thought you read Hogwarts: A History a million times. Didn't they talk about expulsions?" Ron asked derisively.
"I thought that was an old punishment like being put on the rack or being hung by your thumbs. In the muggle world if you get expelled they just say you can't go to that particular school. They let you go to some other school or your parents have to pay a bit of money to get you into a private school. No one denies you your education and birthright and exiles you from-from society!"
"Why?" Harry asked Hagrid again.
"I had a pet," Hagrid said with a sigh. "I found it alone. I took care of him, kept him safe from the rest of the school in case they didn't understand. But someone died that year, a girl. Aragog didn't do it though! I kept him very safe and in a box. They blamed him, but he didn't do it!" he yelled, standing up. "He wasn't responsible, but they blamed him and they blamed me."
"Aragog? Was it another dragon?" asked Hermione.
"Aragog's an acromantula. He was too young to kill anyone without there bein' lots of bites and scratches and blood. The girl who died, she jest . . . died. Not a mark on her."
"An acromantula? A-A giant SPIDER?!" Ron roared, standing up and dropping the bucket to poke his finger at Hagrid. "You-you kept a giant spider at Hogwarts? As a PET??"
"You didn't even get a hearing, did you?" Harry said softly. "They just blamed you and took your wand and snapped it."
"And just sent you from Hogwarts and you were only 13 years old. No more magic," the bushy haired Gryffindor added sadly. "How horrible."
"That's not right. It's not right," Harry said. "Everyone has a right to learn magic. Everyone has a right to tell his side of the story. You should have gotten a fair trial; you should have gotten a chance to show it wasn't Aragog or your fault."
"It's long over, Harry. It was more'n fifty years ago now. Besides, Dumbledore gave me this job. It's a good job and I get ter stay at Hogwarts," he murmured as he went to stand and look at the towers of the castle.
"But you could have been a dragon handler or-or gone on to explore and locate magical creatures in the wild. You could be teaching Care of Magical Creatures or giving lectures or-or anything if they hadn't expelled you!" Harry exclaimed in frustration.
"Those are jobs? Actual jobs?" Hermione asked, astonished.
"Of course they are. We'll be picking extra classes at the end of this year that will help us with our job choices," Ron explained.
"You mean next year we get to take even more classes?" she said excitedly. "How wonderful! It will be just like university. I wonder if Professor McGonagall has a course listing I can look at, perhaps some course descriptions--"
While his friend waxed increasingly eloquent about future academic challenges, Harry stepped to Hagrid's side and stared out at the castle in the distance. "I'm sorry," the raven haired boy whispered.
"Don't think on it, Harry. It's been years and I'm happy here, really. Get to see all kinds of interestin' creatures here what with the forest next door and well, I got to raise my Norbert," Hagrid said fondly.
"We won't tell," Harry said suddenly. "About your umbrella. There's no reason why you shouldn't do magic if you want to."
"I'll bring down my spello-tape," Ron put in. "Maybe it will help a little."
"You could get some spell books from the library and teach yourself fourth year magic. Engorgement charms are good, but there are more advanced ones according to Professor Flitwick that the higher years study. Perhaps some Herbology books would help," Hermione added.
"Oh, no," Hagrid protested. "It's too late fer that. I'm fine with what I got."
"Are you sure? I could tutor you. I know I'm just a second year but--"
"I'd be lucky to have a tutor as smart as yeh, and don't yeh forget it," he told her fondly. "Never mind me. Ron, yeh feeling a better? Yeh don't look so peaky any more."
"M'right," Ron burbled, cupping his hand to his mouth to catch another slug.
"Jest watch the salt at lunch and supper and yeh'll be fine," Hagrid warned as he shooed the children back towards the castle. "Don't want to shrivel up yer mouth, now do we?"
To Be Continued (tbc)
Very Ron centric chapter actually, now that I read it through. I'm not sure exactly how that happened. I hope it came across as funny at any rate. I tried to give you guys scenes that were different than the book or the movie. I hope I gave you something new to enjoy not just a rewrite of the classic book or script.
REVIEWS! I've gotten so many due to my long absence. (Shame! Shame!) Thanks to all of you.
tessbomb65- The "werewolf thing" (I love how you put it) will have to be resolved. But then Harry has just as much chance of dying sooner from say Lockhart incompetence, Dobby's helpfulness, and the terrible thing at Hogwarts (coughBASALISKcough). He might be the one shortening his guardians' lives. But I am glad you picked up on that, I'm not sure the explanation I gave for that plot point really made any sense. Glad you are enjoying.
Eternamente- Without reading I'm on your fav list already. Wow. I'm stunned. Thanks. I just hope you don't take it off your list once you read it. grin
Tru- I too shall join you at the nutella jar without spoon. I'm glad someone knows the glory of nutella out there. MMmmmm.
Abbika-Rose-Writers- I loved your review. I love how you wrote as you read my story. Wow. Thank you so much. The contents of Wandering with Werewolves shall remain an eternal mystery now that Sirius has burned Harry's copy and refused to buy him another. Yes Harry is sweet, blame neutral for writing such a heroic little boy. :) Nutella . . . food of the gods. No Sirius didn't drive the train: (insert sarcasm here) Snap out of it, this is not some fantasy story where every ridiculous thing happens! (I really didn't even think of that possibility. hmmm. Stealing the train . . . hmm.) As for how I started "co-writing" as you put it . . . I read Half of a Dueling Range and wrote a detailed review much like yours. neutral liked my ideas so much that she rewrote the story with my changes thanking me for the feedback. Feeling a bit courageous, I began jotting ideas down for Harry's Hogwarts years. Before I got too far I wrote an email to neutral telling her of my ideas, offering them to her to use as her own or instead, with her permission and general oversight and guidance, write and post the Hogwarts years myself. She most graciously agreed. So we co-write the series, but write our own stories with input from each other, but neutral firmly remains the gentle handed goddess of her realm, mistress of all things WS cannon.
Insane Pineapple from Naboo- neutral best described Harry's bird form I believe in "Clawtracks to the Stars" (I might be wrong) complete with Sirius' mistaken impression that baby bird Harry was a little sparrow or some other helpless bird. Harry is in fact based on his talons, a large bird of prey that does prey on other birds. However, Hedwig knows her Master would never hurt her and Harry likes the taste of rabbits too much (much like Padfoot) to skip to poultry. :)
MissMoony16- You have a bit of a wait before the demise of Lockhart, Harry must first get tangled once again in the yearly mystery of Hogwarts. As one famous fan fic writer wrote (darn I can't remember the name, I think it was debchan's "Harry Potter and the Improbable Use of Chaos Theory" but I could be horribly wrong about that). Anyway it goes like this:
Professor McGonnagall: Harry's in danger! Someone's trying to kill him!
Professor Dumbldore: What?! Is it June already?
I think that says it all. Thanks for the review.
Serinthia- I don't think Harry will pass any of Lockhart's "exams" in class and strangely enough I'm not too sure Sirius will be all that upset if he fails. :) Ah to have parents like that.
athenakitty- Ginny would not accept books from her heroic idol and crush, she would rather he had the books instead. Sigh. Well a visit from McGonagall might have Harry practice his transfiguration more, but it is Lockhart's imminent destruction that makes Hogwarts Harry's destination and homework actually due. As for the new potion called "wolfsbane" what do you think? Will it succeed? :)
Pink Truffles- Ron's rat is never mentioned because Pettigrew was captured when Harry was six. Sirius gained custody of Harry the legal way not by the ever entertaining "kidnapping" plot device. See "Of Western Stars" by neutral, the story that started it all, for further explanation and expansion as to the different back history of this universe. As for who will be the escapee from Azkaban, you'll have to wait and see. I do have an on again off again beta in neutral, but real life does make it difficult to get in contact with each other and find time to give meaningful feedback. Each time I add a chapter, I review and correct and try to upload the old chapters with fewer mistakes. It is an ongoing process. In the meantime I totally agree that little mistakes can be distracting during reading. Please bear with me. Also there is the constant demand to produce that causes sloppiness in me. I shall endeavor to be even more careful. :) I do hope this chapter shows Harry being angry, annoyed, and cunning and closer to that of a mischievous 12 year old. I admit, it is a guilty pleasure of mine to "baby" Harry when he is around his guardians even if it is less than realistic. I do understand exactly what you are saying and there are times I want to write Harry more jaded. You are not the first reviewer to pick up on Harry's perpetual innocence. However, after reading "Good Intentions" by neutral which is Harry in sixth year, you must admit I am a bit constrained on how "worldly" I make Harry appear. Don't worry about hurt feelings, I loved and saved your review because I do so love a reviewer who writes such detailed reviews and comments. It shows to me that you read and thought about what I was writing (hopefully enjoyed it too). There is no greater pleasure for me as a writer than to get such a review. Thanks for the four thumbs!
GY - Now I've got to come up with some hilarious secret code to keep you happy, don't I? Sigh. Back to work then. But honestly, thanks for the review! grin
sotty-chan - I am glad my fic makes you insanely happy.
Talamh - Patients is a virtue and also a damn pain. I hope this was worth the wait.
Wytil - Child Animagus problems. Hmmm. Such an interesting idea. I MUST find a way to work it into the story and if I do, I hereby announce that it is all thanks to Wytil's inspiration. Thank you.
Iana Moon - Clawtracks is sooo worth it. Even though it has Evil!Sirius when you read him interacting with Harry you can't help believe that like Darth Vader there is still good in him. Thanks for the high praise. I too find Unhinged!Sirius tons of fun to write.
Zaehlas - No guessing the plot line ahead (despite its predictability!) That's not very nice at all! Now I must go back and make the plot even more different and the final Basilisk battle even more spectacular.
Maxennce - I admit that Lockhart's books are a crime against ecology. No doubt that thought prevents Sirius from having nightmares due to his callous murder of the written word. You wrote "I adhore Dumbledore and his manipulative ways, Molly Weasley should shove her caring crap up her arse." I should read that as abhor instead of adore shouldn't I? :) Well this Dumbledore is not as bad as Clawtracks!Dumbledore and Molly's evilness is a necessary plot device (insert ominous foreshadowing here). Not a Hermione fan either? Well I do hope you enjoy the story for the characters you do like. :) Ta for the review.