So sorry for the long wait! I have been having a really busy summer between vacation and a new job writing slipped through the cracks. I think I am settling in now so hopefully quicker updates in the future.
Warning this chapter is unedited so far. As soon as my beta Loveliness Decays finishes up with it I will replace this chapter. So for those of you who don't mind reading my mistakes enjoy, if not the edited version will be here soon.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter and I am not making any money. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling.
Bad Blood Will Out
Chapter Six
Despite some early frustration Harry's morning classes sped by with the usual opening syllabus' handed out and a fresh new wave of assignments. The only significant change, for Harry at least, was his own new drive to complete his classwork to the best of his abilities. The days of hastily completed essays scribbled on the backs of partially used parchment were over.
History of Magic had been the usual snore with Binn's blathering on for the second year in a row about Snotwrath the Conqueror and many other key warriors of the Goblin Wars. Harry had to wonder if the absentminded ghost even knew which year he was teaching.
The only class of the day that held any slight intrigue for Harry was his sixth year transfiguration. Professor Mcgonagall explained in her usual clipped Scottish speech that this year the NEWT level class would be focusing on human to animal transfiguration as well as semi-permanent transfiguration and physical alteration. A glance around the room revealed to Harry that while most faces brightened in elation there was one particular person in the room who paled at the thought to human to animal transmutation.
When Harry really thought about it, mentally replaying the memory of Malfoy's brief stint as a rodent, the actions taken by Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Moody were a bit harsh. Judging by the sickly gray pallor rapidly skating over Malfoy's face the prank must have had some long lasting effects. Harry tried to imagine what it might have been like to be trapped not only in the body of an animal, but also the mind. Harry tried to understand the terror of his human mind warring with animal instincts in a cacophony of muddled up mayhem. The idea of being trapped in a body of small and fragile seemed like a true torture.
Malfoy had caught him staring with blatant pity then and sneered at him with a mouth full of teeth and spit. Harry's momentary flash of insanity passed. The prat was obviously fine even if the thought of it gave him a fleeting case of the willies.
Lunch at Hogwarts was always spectacular. It was like a buffet at a hotel cooked by chefs every meal. The only school meals Harry had for comparison made each bite of rich cheese and savory cold cuts with freshly made bread that much more indulgent. From what Harry could remember of his primary school lunches there was no resemblance. Frozen and steamed to heat were the ordinary methods of cooking, although if Harry remembered correctly Dudley didn't seem to mind all that much.
As Harry savored the last bites of his food he was disturbed by a soft tapping repetitive tapping on his left shoulder. Turning Harry could see Hermione was impatiently waiting and looking at him with mild irritation. Harry quickly swallowed his food choking a little as it went down. "Is something the matter?" Harry asked his voice still breathy as his coughing spell passed by.
"I wanted to ask you how you liked classes so far. I know that you aren't really into studying for the sake of scholarly pursuits, but I thought that maybe this year since NEWTs are so close you may be a bit more interested, if only for the fact that you need quite a few NEWTs to be accepted into the auror program." Hermione rambled like this for a few minutes blushing as if she was embarrassed for being a bit presumptuous.
Finally Harry cut her off and surprising her with only seven words. "I don't want to be an auror."
Hermione's jaw dropped. Harry was uncertain whether it was from his statement or his matter of fact tone, but in the end it didn't really matter.
"But you- you said that-you said that" She spluttered.
Harry only smiled and shrugged before putting her out of her misery. "I can change my mind." He stated staring at her dead in the eyes. "Logically it would be stupid for me to dismiss all other possibilities. I am also only sixteen. Who really grows up and does exactly what they thought they wanted to do as a teenager?" Harry paused assessing. "Hell I don't even know all the much about my options. I never go anywhere in the wizarding world other than Diagon Alley and school. How am I supposed to make one of the biggest decisions of my life without any career exploration?"
"Not to be rude, Harry, but how did you come to this conclusion? What I mean to say is last year you seemed set on going into the aurors and you didn't seem to care about other options. What's changed?" She questioned softly although her face seemed to glow and her smile never faded as she spoke. Harry could only assume she approved of his change of heart.
"I don't want to be what everyone expects me to be." Harry explained. He hesitated a moment pinching his lip in-between his teeth roughly. "I don't want to be my father. I don't want to be a 'hero' or the 'savior'. These last two years have driven me nuts. I can't take all the flip flopping and back stabbing anymore. I want to be Harry. As in Harry the baker or Harry the teacher or Harry the writer. I don't care what it is, but I don't want to be something I'm not. And Hermione…" Harry stopped his breath was short and his throat felt constricted and dry like he was trying to swallow sand.
Glancing around Harry abruptly stood the backs of his calves scrapping as he stepped out for behind the bench. Silently he grabbed Hermione's wrist towing her along with him even as she stumbled her way out from the table. There were a few sniggers from people as they hurriedly passed by obviously assuming that he and Hermione were in such a rush to leave lunch for a more intimate reason. Harry shuddered as a ripple of disgust passed over his spine. The thought of being with Hermione was like incest.
"Harry James Potter what is this about?" She demanded as they ended their journey in a small side hall off of the Great Hall. It was deserted and even vacant of nosey portraits.
"I couldn't explain fully, not in there." Harry panted. His heart was racing at the very thought of sharing one of his darkest secrets. Even though he was nervous Harry was sure Hermione was the only one he could trust with it. She was the one who had always supported him. She was the one who judged on actions alone. She was the one who never gave up on him.
"Harry, please just tell me what all of this is about? So you don't want to be a carbon copy of your parents. So you don't want to spend your whole life fighting evil people. What's the big deal? Why all this secrecy?" Her confusion was genuine and Harry was surprised she hadn't picked up on the truth he had been dancing around. Her brow was puckered and her jaw firmly set which told Harry that there was no turning back now. Hermione was set on understanding his problem and by Merlin she wouldn't end the blaze of questions until she was satisfied.
"That's just it Hermione. It's not that I don't want to spend my whole life fighting evil maniacs. It's that I don't want to do it at all." There was a stony silence after Harry spoke where Hermione stared at him with wide brown eyes in disbelief.
"You what?" Hermione asked in a slightly hysterical tone. Harry cringed and hoped that his assumptions about her had not been wrong. Without even meaning to he stepped back slightly from her. Maybe bringing up such a controversial life changing topic in the Great Hall had been a bad idea, but it had seemed so natural to tell her.
"Harry…" Hermione whispered breathlessly. Her voice so tender and pitying he physically flinched away from it. "I want that too. You must know that I don't ever want you to have to fight for your life, but the prophecy says-"
"The prophecy, it's always about the damn prophecy!" Harry exclaimed in total exasperation. "Who are you?" Hermione shrank back from his fury. "Truly, are you Hermione anymore? The friend I know would never blindly believe such lofty divination crap. I mean seriously it was made by the biggest fraud of them all, Trelawney. How do we even know that it's true? She could have made the whole damn thing up." Harry's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white and dark veins stood out brightly against pale skin and bone.
"Harry, you know that I think Trelawney is completely incompetent, but the fact of the matter is, as loathed as I am to admit it, she made one true prediction." She spoke in the same soft comforting tone that had plagued the conversation. Rationally he knew that it was ridiculous of him to be so irritated at her for simply trying to placate him, but he didn't want to be placated damn it! He wanted to get angry. He wanted to feel all the rage and injustice that swam maliciously underneath the surface of his skin.
"Says who? Who says it has to come true?" Hermione looked at him slightly slacked jawed. Harry supposed she had never quite this way. Normally he was full of self-righteous indignation but in that moment he was a maelstrom of loathing for Trelawney, for Dumbledore, and for every other idiot that believed the damned prophecy. "How do we really know it is true? Aren't most prophecies self-filling? They come true because someone like Dumbledore or Voldemort believes them either out of fear or hope. Aren't they the ones who made it true and not some greater design of fate? Isn't that a more logical explanation?"
Harry's breath was uneven and Hermione looked stunned. Before either of them could make a sound a commotion snapped them out of their intense staring contest. Students of all ages filed out of the Great Hall. Each house seemed to exit in mass before the next would follow Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and then Ravenclaw, finally Gryffindor rounding out the back as loud and boisterous as ever. They charged out the doors talking, laughing, pushing and shoving with the greatest of merriment.
Glancing around skittishly Harry decided there was only one place for them to finish there conversation in relative privacy. Hermione let out a muted squeak as Harry latched onto her slim wrist dragging her bodily behind him. Without pausing to give reply Harry towed Hermione up the two flights of stairs and down the hall to the library. There was a wonky piece of carpet that snagged Harry's trainer and almost sent the both of them sprawling. Luckily Harry caught himself in time, although his momentum vaulted them through the wide double doors of the library.
They entered breathless under the stern tight lipped gaze of Madam Pince. Her nose scrunched in disgust as she saw him enter obviously afraid that her precious books would be soiled by his mere presence. The appearance Hermione behind him was probably the only reason she didn't toss him out on his arse as soon as he entered.
Although Hermione originally seemed apprehensive as soon as she entered her sanctuary and the smell of old ink and musky paper filled her noise she relaxed.
They stopped somewhere in the middle of the library between the magical fiction section that contained the collected works of Gilderoy Lockhart and a section devoted to magical empires of the past.
"I love you, Harry" Hermione confided softly. Her face was flushed and a slight sheen of sweat covered her brow.
Harry's stomach dropped and wriggling eels of nervousness and disgust crawled into the empty carven making it impossible for him to breathe let alone think. How the hell had this happened? What was he supposed to say? I love you too, but the thought of relationship that's more than platonic between us makes me physically ill?
"I… uh" Harry stumbled over his words. His tongue felt think and dry as it languished uselessly in his mouth.
Something in his expression must have given him away because Hermione started laughing hysterically. "Not like that, you prat!" She exclaimed through gasps of air. "That's gross! I love you as a friend, maybe as a brother even, but never like that." Any doubt about her intent quickly vanished in consideration of her laughter. "What I meant is that I love you, as a friend," She added sternly with a quick roll of her eyes. "And that whatever you want to do I'm with you. I will support whatever decision you want to make and help you see it through. So if you believe this prophecy could be fraudulent then I say we prove it."
It wasn't long after that Hermione reluctantly retreated from the library as she headed towards her last class of the day. Harry was already finished with classes and since he had nothing better to do he decided to simply roam the castle in a shallow attempt at ending his boredom, To say he was sulking a bit at not being able to join the NEWT level potions class was not far off. It just seemed unfair that when finally Hogwarts's had hired a competent potion's master who didn't hate Harry's guts he was unable to take advantage of it.
"Mr. Potter!" The sound of his name being called out by his head of house made Harry cringe and wonder what he could have possibly done in less than two days to warrant that kind of attention. Although when Harry thought about it, getting in trouble that quickly was not out of the realm of possibility. After all when he and Ron had flow the Ford Anglia to school they were on the grounds less than ten minutes before they'd each racked up several detentions.
"Professor" Harry greeted the older women with a slight dip of his head.
She seemed a bit throw off balance by that, but got over any momentary confusion quickly. "Is there a reason you seem to be aimlessly wandering the halls instead of attending class like the other students?"
"It's my free period, Professor. I have completed all my classes for the day." He responded shortly. The quicker he cleared this up the quicker he could go back to wandering.
"I believe that advanced potions began only moments ago, Mr. Potter. So I must ask why you are wandering the halls of the upper corridors instead of in your seat in the dungeon where you belong." The certainty in her tone made him wonder if she had overestimated his abilities.
"But I only received an 'E' on my-" Harry began to explain, but his teacher was quick to interrupt him.
"Which Horace will be more than happy to accept. So I suggest you head down there straight away." Harry was already moving before she finished speaking. "Also if you see Mr. Weasley-"
"I doubt it." Harry scoffed softly. "He and I are no longer on speaking terms at the moments. So it's unlikely he'll want to hear anything I want to say even if it is a message from you. Sorry, Professor. But thanks for the tip on Potions. Swear I'll try my best!" Harry called down the hall already most out of ear shot. He left a stuttering Mcgonagall in his wake.
Harry arrived only a few minutes late for potions, which was a miracle, as he had practically had to sprint down. Luckily it seemed that the afternoon's lecture had not yet begun. There were a few surprised faces, a couple smiling ones, and the disgusted sneer of Malfoy as he entered the room slightly out of breath.
Hermione's eyes twinkled brightly when she noticed his presence. Quietly she beckoned him over to an empty chair on her left, but before Harry could even think of moving a large hand loomed over his shoulder before clamping down. Harry had to fight his instincts and allow the hand to remain in its place.
"Ah, Harry" Slughorn's voice had taken on the strange thick simpering tone that he had only heard the man speak in once before. It took Harry a moment to realize that this was a front formed by Slughorn to make sure people underestimated him completely. He wanted to make sure people only saw a shallow puffed out windbag who tried to ride on the coattails of his former pupils. Harry was mildly impressed by how easily the man was able to slip quietly back into his role, but if he thought about it Harry remembered that the first time they had met Slughorn transformed effortlessly at a moment's notice.
"I am so pleased to see you will be attending my class. I'd started to despair when I didn't see you among those already seated, but no matter you're here now my dear boy." Harry couldn't help, but cringe ever so slightly as he heard his professor use the headmaster's favorite pet name.
No matter how much Harry liked Slughorn it was not physically possible for him to keep the flicker of dismay from his face. Instead of replying Harry merely nodded and turned to head towards the open seat that was calling out to him as an escape to all his classmates' scrutiny.
The strong smells of earthy ingredients for potions filled his nose and soft bubbling hiss drew his attention to the front of the classroom where six cauldrons of varying sizes and material brewed over soft muted burners. Potions had never been Harry's strongest subject or his favorite, but something about the assortment of elixirs boiling just beyond his reach captured his interest.
One in particular caught Harry and held him in a vice. Although to be fair it was the same one that was entrancing everyone in the room with its potent and delectable fragrance. Breathing in the aroma deeply through his nose Harry could almost taste some of the strongest scents in his mouth.
"Can you smell that, Hermione?" Harry whispered softly almost afraid that an exhale too strong would send the heavenly aroma away.
Biting her lip and bobbing her head in assent Hermione tried to gather her thoughts. It took a few seconds before she got it under control even then her voice was rough and her words stuttered. "Yes, although- I'm sure that we don't exactly smell the same thing."
"What do you mean Hermione?" Harry inquired confusion etched over all of his features. As he waited for her textbook reply, Harry casted a cursory glance around the room and found almost all of the students in the same spell struck position as him. This allowed him to feel a bit better especially as he witnessed some of the other boys including Draco Malfoy and Blaize Zabini taking slow hypnotized steps forward. Harry was grateful that he had at least enough strength not to follow the slow moving zombie mass towards whatever magical liquid lay simmering in a nondescript pewter cauldron.
"It is amortentia powerful love potion that created extreme infatuation borderline obsession in whoever drinks from it. The smell is different for everyone. Personal preference I assume. You don't smell freshly polished wood, sage, or um… sweat?" Hermione colored as she admitted the last ingredient that caught her attention.
"No, I- " Before Harry could tell explain to her the scents overloading his brain Slughorn interrupted.
"Ah, Miss Granger I couldn't help but overhear you explain the effect of the potion contained within the first cauldron to Mr. Potter. Would you be ever so kind as to repeat it for the class?" Slughorn pinned her with an expectant gaze.
To her credit Hermione didn't falter and explained with extra detail the name and effects of the potion. Harry did notice that she refrained from adding in her own interpretation of the potion's scent.
To Harry and probably many other students relief after Hermione's explanation Slughorn lifted a heavy metal lid from the bench and laid it over the aforementioned cauldron. As soon as the mother of pearl liquid and its streams of shimmering steam were effectively bottled the whole class took a few collective steps back. Flushed faces and stony gazes revealed many who were less than pleased with their own lack of self-restraint.
The next ten minutes were used to introduce four other intricate potions represented in the front of the room. None of the others caused quite as much as a stir as the love potion though. Only one other could rival amortentia with the intrigue it caused. Saving a small vile of molten gold colored liquid for last Slughorn presented it to a class of incredulous gazes.
"Felix felicis" The older man intoned gravely. "One of the most powerful and most difficult potions a master can brew. If done correctly the drinker will experience the luckiest day of their life. In essence they will achieve the perfect day. Often called 'liquid luck', felix felicis has many components that are either extremely expensive or exceptionally dangerous to collect. Not to mention without the right permits some of the ingredients and illegal to own. Most will never get to partake of its magical properties." Every student's eyes bored into Slughorn as he spoke. Lustful envy in their eyes as they stared fixedly at the tiny vial clasped between Slughorn's thumb and forefinger.
"What I can say, is that one of you will be able to test felix felicis from this very vile. To the best brewed draught of living death goes the prized." As if to emphases his point the potion's master shook the vile shifting the liquid side to side in a sound so soft that it almost reminded Harry of thee tinkling of a quiet bell.
There was a whole moment where the entire was frozen before the flurry of turning pages and pounding footsteps to gather supplies rang out in one loud explosion.
"Page One Hundred and Seventeen." Slughorn called out over the din.
Harry realized that he did not even own a potion's text at the moment, and although Hermione would probably be willing to share with him Harry didn't want to get in her way and ruin her chances at the prize.
Slughorn must have realized this problem as well because he caught Harry's eye and pointed a pudgy finger back towards a blackwood shelving unit at the very back of the room past the table set up with extra supplies and rare ingredients that none of the students would have within their normal store.
There was only one ragged old copy left on the shelf, but Harry seized it without complaint. He didn't believe he was accomplished enough to win, but why give up a shot for the grand prize?
Some of the pages were ripped or missing as Harry soon learned hastily leafing through the book. Page 117 was intact, which was a major blessing although on closer inspection the book seemed to have been vandalized. Certain steps were blotted out in ink and barely legible scrawl was added into the margins.
For a moment Harry was at a loss on how to continue, but he decided some potion was better than no potion. Dutifully Harry grabbed the supplies the book listed and the things the previous owner changed.
Hermione glanced over at one point and questioned the changes he was making. Harry simply replied that this was what the provided him so it was worth a shot. Seeing Hermione's frazzled nerves and barely stable potion Harry believed he made the right choice. Although she shot he an eye roll and a slight envious gaze Hermione still managed to smile at his apparent success. Her comfort was that out of everyone she was doing the best outside of Harry.
Forty minutes later brewing time was over and Slughorn started to make his rounds trying to mask his disgust at certain individual's attempts.
"I think you've won Harry." Hermione whispered in awe. "I guess those directions were superior. If I were you I wouldn't show your book to the others." She nodded her head in the direction of a fuming Padma Patil and Terry Boot who glared jealously across the room.
"I won't." Harry said with a laugh. "But maybe you and I could look into it. You know see if we can see why this recipe and any others may be better."
Hermione smiled gratefully and a bit more confidently. Harry wondered briefly if she believed this book would be an obstacle in their friendship. The only thing Harry could imagine was that she might be afraid of is if he became too smart or whatever and decided he no longer needed her anymore. That was of course a ridiculous notion given all that he had shared with her just this morning in fact. Either way it didn't matter much because his response seemed to have reassured her.
Harry did in fact win and his unofficial second prize of the day was the filthy looks that everyone excluded Hermione shot at him whether his back was turned or not. The news spread throughout the school and that evening in the common room Harry found himself under the red hot rage of Ron once again. Why? Hell if Harry knew. The prat hadn't even been in that class.
"I heard you cheated your way to the top today in potions." Ron sneered spittle flying as he spoke through gnashing teeth.
Hermione had already gone up to bed which Harry believed was the only reason the ginger had been brave enough to confront him. "I don't know what you're talking about Ron." Harry replied in an exasperated tone.
"Oh don't you? Everyone knows you're crap at potions so there's no way you could have won that potion on your own. What'd you do slip the old teach a few signed autographs maybe a pouch of galleons?" Harry tried to focus all his attention on the crackling fire place before him rather than his once friend and his brutish insults.
The couch was soft burgundy velvet. The grate was burnt gold comprised of two rearing lions. Soft lights created a warm hazy glow throughout the room. These were the details Harry used to block out Ron's verbal abuse. The ginger continued talking, yelling, possibly screeching, but Harry couldn't hear the words so completely tuned out.
There was no way Harry was going to get in a fight verbal or otherwise. He knew the moment he engaged Ron the fight would only escalate until somehow Ron ended up in the hospital wing and Harry ended up in detention. That was not how he wanted his first week to go. It was better to let Ron rant and rave, burning up with anger at Harry's silence until he burnt out.
A few minutes past and it seemed that Ron was just staring at him expectantly so Harry decided that it was time to make his exit. Taking the stairs two at a time Harry ended up in his dorm in seconds sealing the curtains to his bed before Ron could pick his jaw up off the floor.
"History of Magic again?" Harry complained pitifully. The first month of crazy beginning passed without as much as a blip after Ron's outburst. He seemed to be sulking and licking his wounds although Harry was sure it was only a matter of time before he confronted Harry once again.
"Yes, we have it two days in a row Harry as I am sure you remember." Hermione yawned while flipping casual through the text. "You know there really isn't all that much about the goblin wars in here if you actually wanted to read the text."
"No goblin wars? So what is it?" To be honest Harry couldn't have cared less but hearing Hermione drone on helped keep him awake with minimal brain activity before it. Nibbling on a piece of dry toast and halfheartedly listening to Hermione was about the limit his mind could handle so early.
"There's so much more to history than wizards who invented stuff and wizards triumph and tyranny over magical beings. Some of the most interesting things are- " Before Hermione was able to completely regale him with what was the most interesting part of history the bell rang. Hermione didn't bother to try and finish her explanation of the deafening noise of an entire room full of people all exiting at the same time.
They both stood then joining the mass that slowly streamed out through the main doors. Briefly Harry looked up and noticed that the sky seemed to be clear enough for flying later in the day. Harry was unable to stare for long before Hermione dragged him away determined to get to class on time. Harry personally believed it didn't matter much. Binns never noticed anything.
Harry learned that jogging along behind someone who has a deadly grip on the neck of your robes is an awkward position to be in. It was because of that fact that Hermione and Harry stumbled into history almost colliding and creating a heap of tangled limbs on the floor.
Breathless and laughing Harry struggled to keep his balance. As he looked up under his fringe Harry saw something that shocked him to the core. In front of him the light mahogany desk Binns usually favored hovering over or around was suspiciously ghost free. Instead resting casually in the wing backed chair was a man. He was in his mid to late twenties with dark brown hair, high brows, and pale aristocratic features. The man dressed in expensive, but practical black robes with gold and silver embroidery probably hand stitched. As Harry took this all in the only thought that clearly surfaced in his mind was 'what the hell?'
Then the Slytherins arrived en masse. Pansy was apparently the first to notice the new comer because it could not have more than a few seconds before she ran. Charging at the older man she leapt at him in the clearest display of emotion Harry had ever seen from a Slytherin. The fact that she called him 'Dmitri' before tackling him in a hug only confused Harry more than ever.