Dealing with Danger
Chapter 36: Monsters, Green-Eyed and Other (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 36: Monsters, Green-Eyed and Other
Remus lay in the underbrush, listening to the faint but noticeable sounds of Wolf-Harry trying to stalk prey.
He’ll get the hang of it eventually. But right now he’s still clumsy as a human.
His mind drifted to the twenty-four lines which were all the warning they’d have of things which would go wrong this year.
When cup is touched, the respite ends,
And lies make enemies of friends.
The one who strikes without the moon
Will try to change your purpose soon,
And alphas tests must undergo,
All whether willingly or no;
While one his brother’s namesake wars,
The other schemes to open doors,
And finds the speaking treasure hid
Beneath the deepest sheltering lid.
But traitor fled and mystery solved,
You must not think it all resolved;
Two more there are, who speak you fair
But gladly’d harm you if they dare.
The one strikes while his rival sleeps,
With magic foul within the deeps;
The other fills the traitor’s plan,
And schemes his way to end the clan
Whose dame he killed so long ago
(Her husband died by one you know).
So save and heed the fiery knight,
And all you do, do for the right;
Though hero’s plight you’ll not forfend,
You’ll still go with him to the end.
A thud and a whimper. Wolf had pounced, missed, and hit his jaw on the ground instead. Remus rumbled a sound of encouragement to him and kept thinking.
Cup is touched... the Goblet, obviously. Respite ends, well, we were having a fairly normal time of it, except the problems with me, and that wasn’t so bad any more. Lies make enemies of friends... I’m sure we’ll get to that soon enough...
A very loud rustle made him look up in alarm. That was not Harry.
A new scent reached his nose. Reptile—very large reptile—very large snake—
An enormous, bright green serpentine head came around a tree and landed nearly on top of Remus. He cuffed it sharply with a paw, and it drew back with an angry hiss, but not before he had seen that its eye sockets were empty, grown over with thin green skin.
But it can obviously still smell. And I’d bet it’s poisonous... what is it, anyway? I didn’t think any snakes that big lived around here...
Wolf bounded up next to him and took a breath as if to growl challenge. What emerged, though, was no natural wolf’s noise, but rather a spitting hiss that sounded like a cross between a cat and what the snake had emitted itself.
The snake’s head came through the brush again, its mouth gaping wide to reveal tremendous fangs, Remus prepared a blast of fire that would send the snake fleeing for its life if it didn’t die in that instant—
But wait. Harry’s not afraid of it. And he said something to it. It’s as if he knows it...
The snake’s tongue flicked out, coiled gently around Wolf’s front legs, and retracted. Wolf emitted the strange hiss again, and trotted forward to nuzzle at the huge head.
If Remus had had hands, he would have hit himself on the forehead. I’m so stupid. It’s the basilisk, the one from the Chamber. Harry turned her and set her on Riddle, she bought him the time he needed to get the diary and destroy it, and Albus agreed she could live in the forest as long as she didn’t prey on humans...
Harry had turned human again, and was sitting astride the snake’s large head. “Moony, this is Sangre,” he said. “She says she’s pleased to meet you, but please don’t hit her on the nose again when she’s not expecting it.”
“My apologies, Madam Sangre,” said Remus, reverting to his natural form. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Harry translated, then cocked his head in a listening pose for a moment. “Can she smell you?” he asked. “She wants to get to know my family, so she can watch out for us when we’re in the Forest. Not that she doesn’t think we can take care of ourselves, but she says having more help never hurts.”
“She’s quite right.” Remus held out his wrist and let the forked tongue flick over it, and again as a lion. An intelligent snake... will wonders never cease?
Danger’s voice spoke up inside his head. Are you free?
To you, always. What’s the matter?
Are you near Harry?
Yes, why?
I’d rather you move away. I don’t want you worrying him—he has enough on his mind.
As if I can’t control my own emotions. But Remus understood Danger’s concern. All right. Give me a moment.
“Harry, would you mind if I left you and Sangre alone for a little while? Danger needs to ask me something.”
“We should be fine.” Harry was lying on his stomach now, caressing Sangre’s “eyelids.” “I really don’t think anything’s going to attack us.”
“All right. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He has a point. No predator in its right mind would attack a poisonous snake that size, even if it can’t see.
Her sense of smell would seem to make up for that. So what’s wrong?
Well, let’s just say that certain of the Pride have mixed feelings about Harry being entered into the tournament, and they have chosen to vent those feelings on each other...
“So you must now strive against others who are older and stronger than you are yourself, in quest for a prize you do not wish.” Sangre’s body rippled in the snake equivalent of a shrug. “You say there is no way to be removed from this contest?”
“No, no way out.” Harry lay back on the smooth scales of the basilisk’s head and stared up at the stars. “I sometimes wish I was a snake too. Or a wolf all the time. Your lives seem so much easier.”
“All lives seem easy to the one who does not have to live them, Harry. The prey which scampers out of reach is always fatter than the one you catch.”
Harry chuckled. “We have a saying just like that.”
“All thinking creatures likely do. It is just as true for all of them.” Sangre swayed her head gently from side to side. “So you now have no choice but to compete in this contest. But the choice is still yours how you will compete.”
“What?” Harry frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You could take the way of the hihheth.” The word didn’t translate very well, as neither “coward,” “whiner,” or “weakling” fully covered its possibilities. “You could snivel and complain, and have to be brought to each of your tasks unwillingly, telling the world how unfairly you have been treated. Or you could raise your head high and bare your fangs, and show the world that although you did not choose this of your own free will, nevertheless you will complete it well. That is your choice.”
“Moony told me something a lot like that.” Harry let his eyes roam around the constellations he remembered from Astronomy class.
“There is much wisdom in him, if he says what I say.”
Harry laughed aloud at the conscious smugness Sangre had put into her tone.
And she’s right. Moony’s right. Maybe I don’t have a choice about doing the Tournament, but I can either whine about it or just do it, and do it right. He sat up and squared his shoulders proudly. I’ll show them what I can do. Hell, I might even win!
“Do not count your egglings until they hatch,” Sangre warned, and shook her head gently. Harry yelped as he slipped from his perch and slid down the slick-scaled back, flying off and landing in the thick leaves. “Your scent was becoming prideful.”
“Sorry,” said Harry, picking himself up. “Can I do that again? It was fun.”
Sangre laughed. “Very well. Come here.”
Harry had time for four more snake-slides before Moony returned, his face grave. “It’s getting late, Harry,” he said. “We should go back in.”
“But I thought you said we could stay out tonight.”
“There’s been a change of plans. Please say goodnight to Sangre and come.”
“Moony says I have to go in,” Harry told the big snake. “But I’ll come back soon. I’m sorry I didn’t visit any last year, but I was busy.”
“You have much to do in the school, I know.” Sangre wrapped the end of her tail once around Harry and squeezed very gently. “And it was probably better that you did not come. I had some rather sharp disagreements with a few of the denizens of the Forest. Some of the large spiders, for instance, thought that simply because my eyes were gone I was no more danger to them.”
“What happened?”
“My scales are too thick for their fangs to pierce, and the younger ones are not possessed of enough intelligence to know where they might safely strike at me. I was careful to kill as few of them as I could, and finally the oldest one understood what I wished and decreed that his brood should leave me in peace.”
Harry made a mental note to compare stories with Hagrid. “I’m glad everything’s all right now. I’ll see you soon.”
“Farewell, Harry.”
“He thinks I’m a baby,” Meghan said for the fifth time, her sniffles almost gone so that she was understandable. “He thinks I can’t have my own friends, and he tries to run my life. I hate him.”
“I don’t think you really hate him,” Sirius told her again. They were sitting in an otherwise empty classroom, in a chair he had charmed to be a bit larger and more comfortable. “Come on, you don’t hate your Captain, do you?”
“Yes, I do! I hate everyone who wants to boss me around and tell me what to do!”
“Does that include me?”
“No... but you’re my Dadfoot.”
“How about your mum? Do you hate her?”
Meghan shook her head.
“Moony and Danger?”
“No.”
“Madam Pomfrey and your teachers?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re allowed. You’re older than me—grown-ups—you know better and you can help me. And because you love me. You don’t want me to get hurt.”
Sirius nodded. “Believe it or not, Meghan, that’s all Neville wants too.”
Meghan scowled. “That’s what he said. But I don’t believe him.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I think he just doesn’t like Graham. I think he’s...” Meghan stopped. An expression of wonder spread across her face. “He’s jealous,” she said. “Isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.” Sirius kissed his smart little girl. “He’s jealous of Graham, because you really seem to like Graham, and because you have classes with him, so you get to see him more. I think your almost getting sorted into Slytherin scared him a little, Pearl. He keeps on wondering if you really should be a Slytherin, and if you really ever liked him at all.”
“I did—I do! But he’s been so stupid!”
“Boys just have to be that way sometimes,” said Sirius. “I speak from experience.”
Meghan giggled. “I know.” Her face grew solemn. “I want to be friends with Neville again, Dadfoot. I really do. But I don’t want to stop being friends with Graham. He likes to play jokes. He played one on Dursley last week.” She leaned up to whisper into Sirius’ ear.
Sirius laughed aloud, surprised. “He stuck it to him?”
Meghan grinned and nodded.
“Well, I take my hat off to him, then. And I don’t think you should stop being friends with him either. It doesn’t sound like there’s any harm in him. As for making up with Neville—well, I don’t know what to tell you. You didn’t do anything wrong, so it’s not like you can apologize...”
“I could,” said Meghan thoughtfully. “It’ll make him feel guilty.”
“So you could. Up to you. But don’t apologize for having your friends. That’s your decision, no one else’s. And if he tries to tell you it’s not, you can tell him—”
“Detention,” said a deep voice from the door, which swung wide open. “And ten points each from—”
“Hello, Snape,” said Sirius, looking around.
The Potions Master stared at him, nonplussed. “Black,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Talking with my daughter. What are you doing here?”
“Rounds. To ensure that all students are in their dormitories, where they ought to be.” Snape directed a pointed look at Meghan.
“She’s with me,” Sirius said firmly.
“I can see that.” Snape’s eyes glittered. “So, your precious godson has finally got himself into something he can’t get out of. And he has no one to blame but himself.”
“I thought it had been established that Harry didn’t put his own name in the Goblet.”
“Oh, so he says and so the Headmaster believes, but I am not so easily deceived as some...”
“Merlin’s beard, Snape, do you actually believe you’re smarter than Albus Dumbledore?” Sirius shook his head. “I have to hand it to you, that takes some real egotism.”
“I am less biased on the subject of Harry Potter than the Headmaster...”
“No, you’re simply biased in the opposite direction.”
Snape pounced. “Then you do not deny that the Headmaster favors that scar-headed brat you’ve brought up to be just like his father?”
Sirius sighed. “Leave James out of this, will you? That was twenty years ago, and Harry’s not his father, no matter how alike they look. I’ve already apologized to you for the stuff we used to get up to, and I’m sure James would have too, if he’d lived to the point where he realized how inappropriate it was.”
Snape’s glare could have incinerated the Goblet of Fire in an instant. “I have never believed your foolish and inadequate lie. I refuse to be bought off with half-measures.”
“What do you want, then?” Sirius met Snape’s eyes, feeling Meghan turn in his arms to look at her professor. “What is it you want?”
Snape didn’t answer.
“You’re hurt,” Meghan said suddenly, sliding off Sirius’ lap and pattering across the room, hand held out in front of her. “Will you let me see?”
Snape jerked his arm away from her approaching hand as if she were red-hot. “Get away from me,” he hissed at her.
“There’s no need to be rude,” said Sirius, standing up. “She wanted to help you.”
“I need no help from you. Or from any of your brood.” Snape turned his back and stalked away down the hall, his black cloak whirling around him.
“Looks like a crow,” Sirius muttered, coming to the door to watch his old enemy go. “Like an old crow waiting for something to die.”
Meghan caressed the stone of the wall, following Snape with her eyes. “Is there a bird that’s like a crow, but bigger?”
Sirius nodded absently. “A raven. You’ve seen them—remember when we went to the Zoo in London?”
“Mm-hmm.” Meghan’s hand was against her chest. “Cat and dragon, phoenix bright,” she chanted dreamily, “and raven, something something night...”
“What’s that?”
“A poem I heard once. Can we go back upstairs?”
“Of course.” Sirius took Meghan’s hand. “Why did you say Snape was hurt?”
“He was. I could feel the hurt, but not tell where it was, so I did a spell Madam Pomfrey taught me—she does it with a wand, but I don’t have to—and then I could see he was hurt in three places. His hand, his arm, and his chest. His hand looked like it was burned—maybe he touched a hot cauldron, or spilled a potion on it. But I couldn’t see his arm very well, it was shadowy, like Luna talked about with Draco last year. And his chest looked all funny. I’ve never seen anything hurt like that before. It was like it wasn’t part of his body at all.”
“Well, people aren’t just bodies, you know,” said Sirius. “Maybe he was hurt in his soul. Assuming he has one.”
“Dadfoot.” Meghan kicked his ankle gently. “Everybody has a soul.”
“I know, I know. Even stinky old Snivellus.” Sirius turned into a secret passage that would save them a flight and a half of stairs.
But what does he care about enough that it would hurt his soul?
Severus yanked open a cupboard, snatched out a bottle, and poured himself a large glass of wine, which he drank off without even tasting it.
“What do you want, then?” Black’s voice rang in his head. “What is it you want?”
He poured himself a second glass and drank half of it at a gulp. I want time to reverse itself. I want a chance to undo the greatest mistake of my life. I want it all never to have happened.
He finished the glass, the better to block out the sight of those eyes, so wide and frightened, ridiculously juxtaposed with that face, better suited to pride and arrogance than to such plebeian things as fear.
Potter may not be his father, but he is still far too like him for my taste. By tomorrow, he will think being entered in the Tournament is a fine adventure, and brag about it to the whole school. There must be some way of keeping his head properly deflated...
The wine and his well-worn habits of thought were doing their job, keeping the unwanted images away. Potter’s face, his name, his foolish and reckless actions, all these were easy to hate. He threw himself into the arms of that hate and shut his mind to other thoughts.
Ah, yes. Something small and unexceptionable, bearing a changeable message, perhaps...
“Minerva and Danger cleared out the common room,” Moony said as he and Harry approached the Fat Lady’s painting. “They were waiting to give you a hero’s welcome.”
Harry snorted. “Reluctant hero, maybe.”
“Better than no hero at all. I’ll say good night, Harry, I’m not supposed to be here, and I’d rather someone like Severus or Moody not see me.”
“Moody?” said Harry in surprise. “Would he turn you in?”
Moony shrugged. “I don’t know, but better not to take the chance. The hearing starts on Monday, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Remind everyone about the last Animagus session tomorrow, will you? I know I owled last week, but some people might have forgotten. Can you let everyone know?”
“Sure.” Harry hugged his Pack-father briefly. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, and the same to you. Take care of yourself. Good night, Harry.”
“Night, Moony.”
“School champions need their rest, you know,” said the Fat Lady chidingly as Harry approached her portrait.
“I know,” said Harry. “Boggart.”
The portrait swung open, and Harry climbed through the hole, only to stop short as it shut behind him. The common room was almost entirely dark, lit only by the embers of a fire.
What’s going...
“HOORAY!” bellowed a great number of voices as the lights came on. Gryffindors leaped out from behind every piece of furniture, cheering lustily and crowding around Harry. Near the stairs, Fred and George struck up a chorus of “For He’s a Jolly Good Wizard.”
Harry resisted the urge to beat his head against the wall and instead started to push his way across the room. After the first three people refused to listen to his protestations that he hadn’t really put his name in the Goblet at all, he gave up and concentrated on getting to the boys’ staircase. “I’m tired,” he told people over and over, “and I’m going to bed. Keep on without me.”
“But we can’t have a party without the guest of honor!” said Lee Jordan, looking scandalized.
“You do it for me,” said Harry, lifting off the Gryffindor flag Lee had tied around his neck like a cloak and draping it over Lee’s shoulders instead. “Take it in turns being me. Good night.”
He fled up the stairs, followed by another round of the song and more cheers.
I don’t think I saw anyone from the Pride down there...
He walked through the door of his dormitory and nearly ran into Draco. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Where’ve you been for the last couple hours? Everyone’s been looking for you.”
“Around,” Harry said, waving his hand vaguely. “Seen Ron or Neville, or the girls?”
“I haven’t seen Hermione, she went off somewhere with Letha, but Meghan came back a little while ago, and Ginny and Luna went off to their dorm. I think Neville’s down in the common room hiding from the party.”
Harry frowned. “What about Ron?”
“Right here,” said Ron, sitting up on his bed. Harry hadn’t seen him before because he was lying so still. “So you’re school champion. Congratulations.” He gave Harry a very strange smile, staring penetratingly at him. “How’d you do it? Ginny’s invisible ink?”
Harry felt a very strong urge to either scream or howl. “I did not,” he said slowly and carefully, “put my name in the Goblet of Fire.”
Ron’s smile was definitely becoming a grimace. “You don’t have to lie to me, Harry. You got away with it, you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble.”
“Ron has been on about this for the last hour and a half,” said Draco, making a show of not looking at Ron as he spoke. “I’ve been trying to tell him you wouldn’t do that, but he won’t listen.”
Sudden, irrational anger flared up in Harry. “You’ve been trying to tell him? Why?”
Draco blinked, taken aback. “Why? Because... because he’s wrong.”
“And you’re the big judge, figuring out who’s right and who’s wrong? What if you’re wrong? What if he’s right and I really did put my name in the Goblet?”
Both boys stared at him. “Did you?” Draco finally asked.
“No, but that’s the point! It’s none of your business—either of you—whether I did or didn’t! But I thought you,” he hurled the word at Ron, “were my friend and might believe me when other people don’t! And I thought you,” he rounded on Draco, “knew I don’t like other people fighting my battles like I’m still a baby who can’t do it for myself!”
“I was just trying to help!” Draco spluttered, over Ron’s incredulous, “Why should I believe you? I watched you do it with my own eyes!”
Harry whipped out his wand and aimed it at Ron. “Furnunculus!”
Ron was only an instant behind him. “Densaugeo!”
Draco aimed for the point directly between them. “Oppilorbis!”
The two spells collided in midair, ricocheted off Draco’s block, sped together towards the door—the opening door—
And hit Hermione full in the face.
She shrieked. Harry and Ron both dropped their wands in shock as Draco raced across the room to her side. “Neenie! Are you all right?”
Hermione shook her head frantically, hiding her face in her hands. Harry winced as he saw, between her fingers, boils popping up all over her skin. Ron looked horrified at the sight of her front teeth, which were beginning to show beneath the bottoms of her palms.
“Come on, let’s get you down to the hospital wing. Or maybe Letha hasn’t left yet.” Draco put his arm around Hermione and led her out onto the landing, then looked back over his shoulder. “And both of you can go to hell.” He slammed the door behind them.
“You’d better get to bed,” said Ron, glaring at Harry. “Get your beauty sleep so you look good in the newspaper.” He yanked the bedcurtains shut.
Harry was left alone, staring at the velvet hangings. “Beauty sleep,” he muttered under his breath. “If it takes sleep to make you beautiful, you need all you can get... maybe a hundred years’ worth...”
Again he saw Hermione’s stricken eyes as boils welled up on her face and her teeth grew enormously. “That’s your fault,” he hissed towards the hangings, “your fault, it was your spell that hit it and made it go that way...”
Every light in the dormitory suddenly went out. From the common room he heard a chorus of startled voices.
“Hoy, what happened?”
“Where’s the lights?”
“What happened to the fire?”
“What’s wrong?”
Harry’s mind cleared rapidly, emptied of anger or any other emotion beyond a desire to be alone. The darkness was his friend. It would mask him for long enough that he could get where he was going. And he knew where he was going, and how to keep other people out.
He rummaged quickly through his trunk and wardrobe until he found what he needed—pajamas, clothes for the morning, toiletries, and his Invisibility Cloak. He snatched up the lion that sat on his bed and pulled the Cloak over his head, heading for the door, which he opened silently.
People were playing Tag in the darkness with beams of wandlight. Harry slipped carefully between them, silent as a shadow, until he stood by the dark fireplace. “Stealth mode, thank you, Godric,” he murmured, and felt the hole in the wall open under his probing hands. His clothing went down the slide a few moments before he himself.
“Godric says, restrict access to Harry Potter only,” he told the ceiling in the red bedroom, recalling how Draco had sealed the entrance that led to the Slytherin common room back in first year. He went over to the kitchen and the library and sealed their entrances likewise.
There. Now no one can get at me unless I let them.
He sat down on the floor of the main room and stared at the opposite wall.
It might not be so bad to just stay in here...
“Oh, I knew he’d do something like this,” Hermione said worriedly the next morning, when the door of the Hogwarts Den refused to open. “I hope he’s all right...”
“He’s just sulking, probably,” said Draco. “He’s being very stupid about this.”
“You should talk,” snapped Hermione. “Go away, you’re not helping.”
“Fine.” Draco turned on his heel and marched towards the boys’ stairs. Ginny and Luna emerged from their dorm in time to see him pass.
“What’s with him?” Ginny asked, coming over to stand by the fireplace with Hermione.
“He’s mad at Harry. And Ron. And they’re mad at each other. And now I think he’s mad at me, too, and I shouldn’t have shouted at him, and Neville and Meghan still haven’t made up...” Hermione laid her head against the stone. “No one’s speaking to anyone anymore and I don’t know what to do.”
“Why do you have to do anything?” Ginny asked. “It’s their problem, isn’t it?”
“She’s alpha female,” Luna said. “It’s her job to help. And the first thing to do is talk to Harry.”
“Yes, but I can’t! He’s locked us out by this door, and he’s probably locked the one in the hospital wing too, so we can’t go in that way either!”
“What about the one in the Slytherin common room?”
Hermione lifted her head. Ginny turned to look at Luna. “That’s not a bad idea,” she said. “But how are we going to get into the Slytherin common room?”
“Do you know where Meghan is?”
“In her dorm, I think,” said Hermione doubtfully. “But what does she have to... oh!”
She raced off towards the stairs.
Meghan had a friend in Slytherin House.
“But we still have a problem,” said Ginny ten minutes later as the girls sat in a circle in the common room. “Even if Graham lets us in, we can’t just walk into their common room. We need some way to hide. And I bet Harry took the Invisibility Cloak with him.”
“We could get Neville to whisper us invisible,” Luna said.
Meghan looked at the floor. “I don’t know if he would,” she said. “Especially not for something like this.”
“We’ll talk to him, Meghan,” said Hermione. “Do you know where he is?”
“I think he’s out in the greenhouses. But I don’t know for sure.” Meghan sniffled once. “I wish he’d let me talk to him. I hate being angry at him, and I hate him being angry at me. But I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I? Even Slytherin friends? And that’s all we are, we’re friends, Graham and I, we’re just friends!”
Hermione scooted over on the couch to hug her crying little sister. “I know, Pearl,” she said. “I know you’re just friends. I know you are.”
But Neville doesn’t. Or he doesn’t believe it.
Hermione made a decision. “I’ll get Neville to make me invisible to everyone except the Pride,” she said. “That way I can talk to Harry. Ginny, you do what you can with Ron. Shake him, maybe.”
“I have a better idea,” said Ginny. “Luna, you going to handle Draco?”
Luna nodded. “I don’t think he’s really angry with Harry,” she said. “I think he’s still angry with himself, even after what Mrs. Danger told him last night.”
Hermione sighed. “He still feels like this is his fault, doesn’t he? Because Harry did that stupid dance in the dream?”
“Maybe we should all do the dance around Harry,” said Meghan. “If it’s that powerful.”
“Spreading out trouble makes it better,” said Luna. “That could work.”
“But we need Harry to do that,” said Hermione. “So I’ll go talk to Neville and see if he’ll whisper me invisible. Meghan, you go find Graham and ask him if he’ll let me into their common room for just a minute, and that I don’t want to spy or take anything. I’ll find you when I’m ready, but remember, he won’t be able to see me.”
“I’ll go find Ron,” said Ginny, getting up. “Wherever he’s got to now.”
“And Draco’s up in their room.” Luna flexed her fingers. “Maybe I can get him to take me down to the music room, when Harry opens the Den again.”
The lionesses of the Pride scattered.
“Excuse me,” called a harsh voice as Hermione jogged across the lawn. She stopped and turned.
Viktor Krum had hailed her, and was now hurrying to her side. “I am sorry to stop you,” he said, drawing even with her, “but I haff heard a story that Harry Potter vas not in his bed last night, that he has run avay from his school, and I recalled that you often are near him, so ven I saw you I thought that I vould ask...”
Hermione pulled herself out of contemplation of Krum’s rather surly but strangely attractive features. “What? Oh, Harry. No, he hasn’t run away. He’s just... off thinking somewhere, he does that sometimes, I’m actually looking for him now...”
“I saw you vith your staff,” Krum said, waving in the direction of Hagrid’s hut. “Vith the large man, and your friends. You are fery good. Perhaps you vould like to try our staffs sometime.”
Hermione felt her mouth dangling open and quickly shut it. “Yes,” she said, her heart racing. “Yes, I think I’d like that. But some other time, I really have to go now...”
“Goodbye, then.” Krum bowed to her.
“Goodbye.” Hermione ran for the greenhouses, her mind in a daze.
He saw me... he thinks I’m good... Viktor Krum thinks I’m good...
She didn’t pay attention to the odd buzzing noise in the air by her ear.
Neville nodded when Hermione made her request. “I can do that. Harry still hasn’t come out, then?”
“No, and I want to make sure he’s all right. If he fell and hurt himself or something, no one could get to him.”
“He’d be able to call a house-elf, though,” Neville pointed out. “Unless he was unconscious.”
“I know, but I still want to make sure.”
“All right.” Neville closed his eyes and muttered to himself for a moment, then opened them. “That should do it. Only the Pride will see you or hear you.”
“Thanks, Captain.” Hermione hugged him quickly and turned to hurry back to the castle, then turned back. “By the way, Meghan doesn’t hate you.”
“That’s good,” said Neville dully.
Hermione shrugged. I tried.
She doesn’t hate me. That’s wonderful. Neville looked down at the handful of seedlings he’d wrenched out of the potting tray he was working on. She doesn’t hate me.
But how do I feel about her?
“She has a way to be invisible to everyone but you?” Graham repeated. “And you want me to let her into our common room? She could do anything, go anywhere...”
“But she won’t,” Meghan said impatiently. “She wouldn’t. She doesn’t want to do anything except go through your common room to another part of the castle.”
“There’s nowhere to go from our common room except to our dormitories.”
“That’s not true, and I can prove it.”
“Fine.” Graham grabbed Meghan’s hand. “Come to the common room and prove it. I trust you. If you show me where your sister’s going to go, then I’ll let her in.”
“But people will see me...”
“I don’t care. They make fun of me enough for hanging around with you, it won’t hurt to let you in.”
“Won’t they get mad that I know your password, and where your door is?”
“You can stand a little ways away while I open it so you don’t hear the password, and it’s hard enough to find the door as it is. I’m still not always sure I have it right. You probably won’t be able to find it again from one time.”
Meghan looked around the entrance hall and breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione slipped in through a partially open door. “My sister’s here,” she said. “And I know how you can make sure she doesn’t go anywhere she shouldn’t.”
“How?”
“What does he say?” Hermione asked, arriving beside them.
Meghan took Graham’s hand and guided it to Hermione’s arm. “Hermione’s right here,” she said as Graham started in surprise at feeling something he couldn’t see. “I’ll keep her far away with me while you open the door,” she ignored Hermione’s sound of indignation, “and then you can take her hand and lead her inside and over to the fireplace. She won’t let go your hand until she’s in the... the way to the secret place that we know, and you’ll see it close behind her. That way you’ll be sure she doesn’t go anywhere else.”
“How do I know she won’t come back?”
“Because I say she won’t.” Meghan stared into eyes nearly the same dark brown as her mother's. “Do you trust me or not?”
Graham gave a slow nod. “I trust you,” he said. “I’ll let her in.”
“Took you long enough,” said Alex from his portrait as Hermione climbed out from under the green-draped bed.
“Whatever happened to ‘Hello, nice to see you?’”
Alex’s response, if he made one, was drowned out by the slamming open of the door. Harry stared at her. “How did you get in here?”
Hermione pointed under the bed. Harry groaned. “I knew I forgot something.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you did. What if you’d got hurt...” Hermione stopped. “What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the look on Harry’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Harry sat down on the bed. “What isn’t wrong? Ron thinks I’m a cheater, Draco thinks I’m a baby, you must think I’m totally careless and out of control...”
“I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth, Harry Potter,” Hermione said firmly.
“But I hexed you last night!”
“It was an accident, as much Ron and Draco’s fault as yours. And Draco does not think you’re a baby. He’s worried about you. Do you know he thinks this is his fault?”
“What?”
“He thinks that stupid dance you did in that one dream really took. So it’s his fault for transferring all his trouble to you.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Please. I did the dance, I took the trouble, it’s my fault if it’s anyone’s—and why are we acting like that means anything, anyway? I made it up! It’s a total crock!”
“I’m not the one you should be saying that to.”
“I know.” Harry sagged. “But I can’t go out there, Hermione, I just can’t. I can’t stand everyone staring at me and whispering about me... I can’t...”
Hermione folded her arms. “You faced Lord Voldemort,” she said. “Twice. You broke a Memory Charm and a Body-Bind from the inside. You captured two Death Eaters. And now you’re scared of a bunch of kids?”
Harry smiled a little, sheepishly. “But I didn’t care if Voldemort and the Death Eaters liked me,” he said. “It sounds stupid, but I want people to like me. I thought Ron did like me.”
Hermione shook her head. “Ron does like you,” she said with certainty.
“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“Oh, Harry, don’t you understand? He’s jealous!”
“Jealous? Of what?”
“You. And I know, it doesn’t make any sense,” she added quickly, forestalling Harry’s indignant reply. “No, this tournament isn’t anything you wanted to be in. Nor does he, really. But you’re getting all the attention, all the fame and fortune, and that’s what he wants, or at least what he thinks he wants. I’m sure he wouldn’t like it as much as he thinks he would. I didn’t like it much myself. But it’s like Letha always says—you see yourself from the inside and other people from the outside. He only sees the outside of what you have, and it looks really good. And he wants it.”
“Or he thinks he wants it. More than he wants to be my friend.” Harry stared at the carpet. “Fine. He doesn’t have to be my friend if he doesn’t want to be.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! He blew his mouth off once, and now you’re not going to be friends anymore? As if you’ve never done anything you regretted!” Hermione glared at him, then let her look soften. “I’m not saying you have to do anything about it yourself. But if he apologizes, will you promise to listen?”
“Sure,” Harry said grudgingly. “Fine. It’s just... I hate it when everyone points and stares. And they’re all going to. And whisper, and talk about me.”
“Yes, and they’ll talk and whisper even more if you just disappear like this. There’s already rumors that you’ve run away from school because you’re afraid to be in the Tournament...”
“I am not!”
“I know that. And you know that. But everyone else doesn’t know that.”
Harry sighed, a strangely prolonged sigh that had quite a bit of hiss to it. Hermione jumped as an answering hiss came from Alex’s portrait, one that went on for nearly a minute. “Would one of you mind translating?” she said acerbically when he was done.
“It’s nothing worth repeating,” said Harry. “But I’ll keep it in mind,” he added to Alex. “And just so you know, you’re the third person to tell me that.”
“Well, you know what they say.” Alex reclined in his chair. “If one man calls you a niffler, ignore him. If another man calls you a niffler, think it over. But if a third man calls you a niffler, dig for treasure.”
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then back at the portrait. “What?” they said in unison.
Alex rolled his eyes. “It just means, if three different people all have the same opinion about you, it’s very likely to be right. Granted, this isn’t so much about you as it is about what you ought to be doing...”
“Close enough,” Harry said. “All right. You win. Time to dig for treasure.”
“In other words, you’re coming out?” said Hermione.
“Yep.” Harry stood up. “I’d better prove I haven’t run away. And if I have to be in this damned Tournament, I’m going to do it with some style.”
Hermione giggled. “Now you sound like my brother.”
“I’d like to meet this brother of yours sometime. He sounds like a real interesting bloke. See you, Alex.”
“Bye, you two. Don’t forget to unlock the doors on your way out.”
“I won’t.” Harry shut the door of the green bedroom behind himself and Hermione.
“You see?” Ginny said as Ron picked himself up off the floor. “There’s no way Harry could have got up to my dorm. Whoever took my invisible ink—if anyone did, I might have made a mistake—but if someone did, it was another girl. And I don’t think Harry has any.”
“He doesn’t.” Ron stared at the slide the girls’ staircase had formed. “Why does he have to be so bloody famous, anyway?” he burst out bitterly.
“I don’t know. But he hates it, Ron, you know he hates it. He’d swap with you in a second—it’s his dream to make his own life, not have some destiny hanging over him.”
“Yeah, well, what kind of life am I going to make?”
Ginny looked at her brother. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “What kind of life are you going to make?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“It’s your life, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but—I’m not good at anything!”
I’m not good for anything, Ginny heard under Ron’s words. I’m worthless, useless, I’m not even a good friend...
“That’s not true,” she said to all the statements. “Who worked a Rubik’s Cube in less than five minutes on the train? Who can beat anyone at chess, even Mr. Padfoot? Who was out in the shed all the time over the summer helping Dad with his Muggle stuff? Not me.”
“But I hit Hermione with a curse.”
“That was an accident.”
“And Harry probably hates me.”
Movement caught Ginny’s eye. Harry had climbed out of the hole by the fireplace just in time to hear this. He slammed his finger against his lips as she took a breath to say something, then pointed at Ron and shook his head hard.
“No, he doesn’t,” Ginny said, looking back at Ron. Harry flashed her a thumbs-up and disappeared quickly out the portrait hole as Hermione climbed out of the Hogwarts Den entrance and closed it behind her.
“And Draco’s mad at me.”
“I am?” said Draco from the boys’ stairs, Luna behind him.
Ron jumped and looked around. “Well, you were.”
“I won’t be if you apologize to Hermione.”
“He’s not the only one who has to apologize,” said Hermione, making Ron jump and spin again. “If it wasn’t for that block you threw, only one of those curses would have hit me.”
“I am most truly sorry, gracious sister, and I humbly beg your pardon,” Draco said, sweeping an elegant bow. Luna prodded his behind with her toe, and he yelped as he lost his balance and nearly fell down the stairs. Recovering his balance, he glared at her. “Don’t do that!”
“But you look so funny.”
Ron cracked a smile. “Sorry, Hermione,” he said. “I never meant to curse you.”
“I could tell. You certainly weren’t aiming for me.”
Ron sighed. “I didn’t really want to curse Harry either... damn it, I know he didn’t do it himself, but I can’t just go say that to him! Not in public!”
“I know something you can do,” said Luna. “You wouldn’t have to say anything, but it would let Harry know that you’re really sorry and you do want to be friends again.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Luna explained.
Ron looked appalled. “I’m not doing that!”
“I’ll do it with you,” said Draco quickly. “If you do it for five seconds alone, I’ll join in.”
“So will I,” said Hermione.
“Me too,” said Ginny.
“And me,” said Luna.
Ron seemed momentarily tempted, then shook his head hard. “No. I’m not going to. It can just stay the way it is. Everything is fine.”
Everyone else rolled their eyes.
That night, at Animagus practice, neither Neville or Ron got anywhere with trying to transfigure their heads. After Ron’s third major mistake, Remus called halt on both of them. “Do you boys have something on your minds?” he asked. “I don’t care what it is. But do you?”
Both of them grudgingly nodded yes.
“I thought so.” Remus pointed at the door. “Out. I’m not taking the chance that whatever’s bothering you will create a problem I can’t fix in time. You’ll have plenty of time to get your heads on straight, too, because this is likely our last meeting until the hearing’s over, and it starts tomorrow.”
“But I want to finish!” protested Ron. “And I’m so close!”
“Me too!” Neville looked distraught. “I’m almost done with my incantation, I’d just need the potion!”
“You need to finish your last transfiguration. And for that, you need clear minds. Which neither of you has tonight, and you’re unlikely to have by the time we’re done here. So off you go.”
Casting each other looks of commiseration, the boys dawdled across the classroom, pausing every now and again to look hopefully over their shoulders. Remus made it a point to be showing Ginny a different way to hold her wand or correcting Luna’s pronunciation every time they looked.
I know you want what I’m teaching, and you’re both very close, but holding onto anger, especially anger with no good reason for it, will ruin your magic, and your lives too. The sooner you learn that, the better.
They were actually at the door when Neville turned and ran back into the room, skidding to his knees beside Meghan. “Are you really just friends with that boy?” he demanded.
“Yes, of course,” Meghan said scornfully. “He’s too young to think about anything else than that. Besides, I think he might fancy Natalie someday. She already fancies him a little bit.”
“And you don’t—I mean—is there anyone else you...” Neville fell silent, a listening silence, though no words were being spoken. Remus risked a quick glance behind him to see the brown-haired boy’s eyes fixed raptly on Meghan’s hands, which were moving with practiced care. Draco caught Remus’ eye and winked at him.
Turning his head away from Neville and Meghan brought Remus into line to see Ron, who was watching them unabashedly, and scowling, but not as if he were angry with them... more as if he were wrestling with a decision, Remus thought...
“I think I can do it right now,” Neville announced, standing up. “May I try again?”
“If you like.”
Neville touched his wand to his own head. “Spiro et spirabo,” he said carefully. “Non saucius ero, et dicebo et cogitabo. Caput mea immutabit in capitem simii argentei cuius non comparet.” As he spoke the last word, he twirled the wand around his head three times, then rapped it sharply once on his crown. “Ow,” he said ruefully.
“Did it work?” Meghan whispered.
With an odd wavering and rippling, Neville’s head changed shape, shrinking a little, jaw lengthening, features moving. He sprouted a crop of silvery fur, and his eyes turned black. From the neck up, he was a demiguise.
Remus quickly drew his own wand and cast the necessary diagnostic spell, but his eyes had told him already what the spell merely confirmed. “It worked perfectly,” he said. “Congratulations, Neville. We’ll find a way to get you home long enough to take that potion very soon.”
The demiguise grinned triumphantly and vanished its head in celebration as the rest of the Pride cheered.
“Mr. Moony?”
“Yes, Ron?” Everyone else was packing up to leave, flush with Neville’s total victory and Draco’s and Luna’s partial successes, but Ron was lingering in the classroom.
“I know you’re going to be very busy these next few weeks—months, even—but... maybe, could you find a little time to come and see me do the final transfiguration?”
Remus regarded him. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it.”
“Yes, sir. I want to...” Ron broke off.
Remus set down his bag and shut the door behind Meghan with his wand. “Go ahead,” he said quietly.
“I want to show I can keep up,” Ron said. “I want to show I can do it just as well as they can. Even if I can’t—third is still better than I’ve ever been before. I don’t want to be just another person in a crowd, and if I wait, everyone else will catch me up and we’ll all finish together. I mean, we always knew Hermione would be first, and it’s not a big surprise that Harry was second, but I want to be third. And I’m done with my incantation, all the way done. If I’d finished my transfigurations tonight, I’d be ready.”
“Well...” Remus tapped Danger’s mind and asked her to ask the other two Pack-adults a question. “There’s always tomorrow. Do you think you’ll have your problem off your mind by then?”
“I know I will.” Ron lifted his head. “I’m going to do something about it.”
“In that case,” said Remus as Danger gave him an answer, “there will certainly be someone here tomorrow night. Maybe not me, but one of us will be here. If you’re ready, then so will we be.”
Ron’s face lit up. “That’s—thank you!”
“You’re quite welcome. You’d better hurry back to the Tower, though, before Filch or Professor Snape comes along.”
“Yes, sir. Have a good night, Mr. Moony.”
“You too, Ron.” He watched the boy leave. So what do you think he’s going to do tomorrow?
Probably apologize to Harry. But I don’t see why he couldn’t have done it tonight.
Nor do I. But he has his own mind, his own ways of thinking, and if we can’t bend a little to accommodate another, what good are we?
Oh, I can think of a few uses for you...
Harry was sitting in the courtyard during afternoon break, enjoying what sun there was and trying to ignore everyone staring at him, when he heard footsteps approaching him, and caught unease and determination on the wind in a scent he knew. He turned to look at Ron, who looked back at him with his jaw set.
“Stand up,” said Hermione behind him, startling him a little. “That’s right, up you come...”
“Right out here,” said Meghan, tugging at his hand and pulling him away from the wall he’d been sitting on. “That’s good.” She backed quickly away, leaving Harry facing Ron.
“Something for you?” Harry asked coolly.
Ron took a deep breath and jumped into the air. “Aauggh!” he shouted as he came down. And jumped again. “Aaaggh!” And again. “Oooh! Ahhh! Hunh, hunh, hunh, hunh, baaahhhh!”
Draco darted out of nowhere and joined the insane dance, which had gathered everyone’s attention in the few seconds it had been going on. “Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk,” he chanted, hopping around and flapping his arms like a chicken.
Harry couldn’t keep a straight face. I don’t believe this.
Hermione joined in, her choice of vocalization a high-pitched yowl. “Oww, oww, oww, oww, oww...”
Ginny’s yowls were similar, but a bit deeper. “Mowwr, mowwr, mowwr...” Harry found himself watching the arc of her red hair as it rose and fell in counterpoint with her jumps.
Luna made little noises like Ginny’s owl Pigwidgeon as her feet hit the ground. “Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo...”
Neville and Meghan were jumping hand in hand, one up, the other down, yelping an insane duet. “Eee, ahh, eee, ahh, eee, ahh...”
Ron, still capering around and yelling, met Harry’s eyes and grinned at him bashfully, then brought his hands up to his face and stroked them down both cheeks.
Harry surrendered to his rising laughter, nodding frantically even as he laughed, and then turning the laughter into his own noises as he, too, began to jump up and down, joining in the dance rather than being the one danced around. And other people were beginning to join in, he noticed—Seamus and Dean were bouncing with them, as were a few small Hufflepuff girls, a Ravenclaw or two—
And then suddenly it seemed that most of the courtyard was doing the Trouble-Taking Dance, all jumping up and down and making a variety of odd noises, most of them by now related to laughter in some way, as it all struck everyone as so very funny. A few people were up on the low walls of the courtyard, jumping on them. Harry thought that looked like a good idea, and bounced his way over to join them.
And from that vantage point, he saw the one thing that could make this day even better.
He waved his arms frantically to get people’s attention and beckoned for silence, and for them to keep jumping, pointing in the direction of the person he’d seen. The word spread quickly, so that when Professor Snape rounded the corner of the outdoor passageway, he was confronted with a courtyard full of students all leaping up and down in complete silence except for the sound of their feet and the occasional stifled snigger.
It was easy to hear the bell ring from inside the castle, with no one talking or making a sound. And it seemed the most natural thing in the world to keep jumping as they collected their books and possessions and streamed back into the castle, hopping and bouncing past Professor Snape in silence and attempting valiantly not to laugh at his expression of total and complete bewilderment.
It had almost been worth fighting with Ron, Harry thought, to be able to make up like this.
Author Notes:
Saturday is beginning to look like my regular update day for the next few weeks. But, as always, no guarantees. Things could change at any time. Just be sure that I will not abandon you, my loving
and oh-so-faithful readers, so please do not abandon me!
Neville’s spell: "I breathe and I will breathe. I will not be harmed, and I will speak and think. My head will be changed into the head of a silver monkey which can be invisible."
The gesture Ron makes to Harry is the hand-sign for an apology.