Harry Potter and the Cat's Eyes By Eleanor Gruffydd-Jones A follow-up of Harry Potter and the Running of the Wolf |
Chapter One: Ill News Harry Potter crossed his arms thoughtfully and frowned. He bent over Common Magical Diseases and Colds and scanned the text on with his eyes: "Unlike the common cold which Muggles (non-magical folk) are immune to, the Cambridge Cold is much rarer and is hardly ever caught. It is often referred to as 'The Uncommon Cold.' It can only be caught when a witch or wizard is near a rose bud after five days of it being pollinated by the Dodo bee. Immediately after, smoke comes out of the ears and the wizard has a long period of violent hiccups and sneezes. The sneezes are powerful enough to knock a wizard off his broom. The experience is not pleasant and can only be cured by the Dodo bee sting from the same Dodo that pollinated the rose bud." Harry frowned even more. Why Professor Snape assigned the class to write an essay on 'Uncommon colds and their Cures' was a mystery to him, this had nothing at all to do with potions. Yet Harry had a strong suspicion that Snape would give anything to pile Harry with homework and to have him not do it-- just an excuse to him in detention. Harry sighed and sat up to turn the light off. Dudley's snores were making the whole room vibrate. He sighed again, and then stared, blinked, rubbed his eyes and stared again. Had he imagined it or had wardrobe two eyes, yellow, shaped like a cat's? He shook his head. No, the light was playing tricks with him. He went over to the window to have a breath of fresh air. The moon was bright and shone over the roofs of Privet Drive. In the far distance he could see Hedwig soaring through the sky towards him with two letters clasped in her beak. Harry stepped back to give her some room and seized one of the letters as she flew through. He ripped it open. Hi Harry, it said in large untidy lettering. He recognized Ron's handwriting at once. How are you? I guess I'm ok. How did you do with your O.W.L.'s? Mum's bawling down at me because I didn't do as well as Percy in my O.W.L.s but I think I did ok. Percy got promoted to being the Head of his department; Mum's head over heals so she's invited Charlie back to celebrate. I asked Mum if you could come here and she wrote to Dumbledore to ask but he thought you would be safer with the muggles, probably because of the stuff with You-Know-Who. Mum didn't think that was necessary but she gave in, in the end. Have you heard from Hermione? She hasn't written, probably having a good time with 'Viktor.' Harry noticed that Ron's writing had gone slightly blotchy and the word 'Viktor' was smudged. Anyway, hope you have a good summer, and I'll see you at Hogwarts in September. See you then, From Ron. P.S. The packages with the other owls contain your stuff for next year. Mum got it at Diagon Alley-- Dumbledore doesn't seem to be letting you out anywhere. Harry stared at the last paragraph. He looked around. Six burly tawny owls were detaching themselves from three hug bulging carrier bags. Harry didn't touch them. He felt sure something wasn't right. He looked at the other letter. Harry hesitated, unsure whether to open it. He made his mind up and tore open the envelope. Carefully, he unfolded the letter. At the top of the letter was a coat of arms with the words 'the Ministry of Magic' shining in gold below it. Dear Mr. Potter, he read It is our sad duty to inform you that during the intervening holiday until you resume schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you will be restricted the freedom of enjoying the liberty of the Magical World for reasons that I cannot mention in this letter. You are also forbidden to do the following things: Staying with fellow class mates Visiting Diagon Alley Constant contact with fellow class mates Individual activities Straying out of number four Privet Drive without the company of a responsible adult Use of Magic. You must at all costs keep to the Muggle world with your Aunt and Uncle. This will only last for the period of time of your summer holidays but when you arrive at Kingscross Station you will be joined by a well qualified agent who is to guard and protect you 24 hours a day at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade until the time when you will return home, when the same procedure will happen again. Also, future Quidditch matches have been prohibited for the whole year at Hogwarts. I am sorry for any inconvenience this will cause and hope that it will not last long. Best regards, Douglas Bond Head of the Department of Magical Safety and Security Harry felt terrible. Anger was seething up inside him. He was not allowed to go into Diagon Alley and see his friends or even send them owls. Were Dumbledore and the Ministry punishing him, or, did they really fear so much for Harry's life that they kept him from the magical world? Was Voldemort the cause of this? Was Voldemort so powerful that he could even stop Harry going into the Wizard world? Was Harry really safe enough from Him at number four, Privet Drive? He was a prisoner of the Dursleys for the whold summer! Chapter Two: The Lock-up Harry finally drifted into sleep at about half past three and woke up earlier than he normally would have liked. He felt sick with worry and nerves and no matter how hard he tried he could not get the vision of himself in a cage and Voldemort laughing at him and-- he just could not get it out of his head. He looked at the wardrobe. There were no cat's eyes there, he knew he had imagined them. His alarm clock went off at a shrill falsetto. Dudley's earthquake-like snores stopped abruptly and were replaced by a series of loud gruntings. Slowly he got dressed and dragged his feet down the stairs to where his aunt and uncle were eating their breakfast. They did not look up as Harry sat down but they did stare furiously at each other as if Harry had done something abominably rude. "So," spat Uncle Vernon. He was looking at Harry now. Harry thought it best not to look up at him from his Cornflakes, steam seemed to be rising from his uncle's purple face. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Dudley waddle into the kitchen. "So," he spat again, Harry felt the saliva land on his cheek. "You've got some nerve, boy, walking in here like that, making your little wiz- I mean friends sending us little messages by filfthy creatures," he waved a letter in his hand, "and expecting us to have your presence for the whole summer," he bellowed, red faced. He took a few deep breaths and spoke in a low, choking voice. "I am known as a fair man but--" "It's not like I want to stay here, I didn't ask them to write to write to you to say I could," said Harry. Uncle Vernon choked on his coffee, spluttering he bawled, "no more cheek from you. If you are going to stay with us for the summer we are going to have some discipline. Since you are not allowed anywhere out of this house on your own then that means we are allowed no freedom either. So I see no reason why you can't stay in your room for the WHOLE," he took a deep breath and shouted, "SUMMER!" Dudley fell about into silent laughter. Harry knew quite well that his uncle meant and knew better than to argue with him. Harry sat miserably in his room stroking Hedwig. For the last three weeks his aunt and uncle had locked up in his room, only letting him out once a day to go to the toilet. They had fed him everyday on cold tomato soup, stale bread and green cheese and moldy Cornflakes with sour milk. Harry had experienced this before, just before his second year at Hogwarts, but he thought it would not happen again considering that the Dursleys were terrified of Harry's uncle who was a convicted murderer and that they would turn them all into warty toads. But they knew that Harry was forbidden to contact him or he would suffer the consequences, whatever they were. Harry had had no contact at all from the Wizard world whatsoever so he passed the time doing his homework, reading his books, or counting down the days until he went back to Hogwarts. Yet Harry could not help imaging Draco Malfoy's face when he arrived at Hogwarts with an 'agent' following him around everywhere he went. He did not know how he would cope. Two days before he returned to Hogwarts, Harry received yet another envelope. He picked it up and examined it carefully. Maybe this was a letter saying that he could not go to Hogwarts anymore and that he had to live with the Dursleys forever. He shuddered, and plucking up courage he slowly opened it. Two tickets fell out. They were his and the 'agent's' train tickets for the Hogwarts Express. Harry puzzled and shook the envelope. Odd, he thought, no letter saying he was to have no contact with wizards ever or to never see his friends again. He hoped at least that the Ministry had allowed a letter from Hermione or Ron or at least a Prison sentence to the Dursleys for treating him so badly. There was a knock at the door. It opened slowly to reveal Uncle Vernon standing there, nervously. This was the first time he had paid Harry a visit since he looked him up. He looked very white but a slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. He carried with him Harry's daily plate of bread and cheese yet this time with an added slice of pale ham. He laid down the food and sat down next to Harry, though he carefully avoided his spell books. "Er-- Harry, er, son--" Harry stared at him with opened mouthed amazement. Was this his uncle he was speaking to? Uncle Vernon flushed bright pink. "Well, I know we haven't been getting on lately, but I thought that maybe you could not mention this to anyone at--" he gulped "--your school." Harry understood now. Uncle Vernon hadn't had a change of heart and decided to adopt Harry as part of the family. He didn't want to be turned into warty toads. "Why?" he asked. Uncle Vernon turned an angry purple. "Don't ask questions!" he said through clenched teeth, then he smiled painfully. "I thought that maybe the people at your school would probably think that this-this would--" he shrugged, "--this would have a bad influence on you," he said quickly. Harry eyed him nervously. He wasn't going to tell anyone anyway, he didn't want people thinking he was a damsel in distress. Uncle Vernon left hurriedly after that giving Harry time alone. He looked up at his window, to see if there were any owls but there wasn't even a sign of a feather. Instead he watched a beetle standing still moving its front legs every actively. He blinked, was this normal beetle behavior? There was something familiar about the beetle. He gasped and lunged towards the window, but the beetle was too quick for him and disappeared from sight. He watched it fly away. Tomorrow he would probably be on the front cover of every Daily Prophet newspaper and Witch Weekly. Chapter three: The Bodyguard Harry spent a sleepless night imagining his journey the next day. At six o' clock he got dressed, made sure he was ready and counted down the minutes until the Dursleys got up. At half past eight the Dursleys were still not up and Harry was getting seriously worried. Suddenly a tremendous honking of a car horn rang through the silence of Privet Drive. Harry rushed downstairs and opened the door to see what was happening. A bright yellow taxi was parked outside number four with a smoking punk pressing madly in the horn. He wound down the window. "Are you 'Arry Po'er?" he yelled. Harry nodded slowly. "Righ'" he clambered out of the car and seized Harry's case and Hedwig's cage and threw them in the boot of the taxi, slamming it shut. He got back in and stared at Harry. "Well, ge' in then," he indicated to the back seats. Harry climbed slowly into the back and the punk set off at an alarming speed, making the wheels squeal. Harry was thrown back, winded. "Excuse me," he breathed as they swung around another corner, "where are we going?" As the punk flew round another corner, he waved his hand. "Don't worry, I'm no' 'ere to kidnap you. I was told--" he waved a piece of paper "--that 'Arry Po'er was to be collected a' half eigh' an' taken to Kingscross for eleven." Harry sta back heavily. The Ministry was not going to be pleased about this. His aunt and uncle obviously wanted to wash their hands of Harry. He pushed himself up and tried to enjoy the remainder of the journey. The punk screeched the car to a halt in front of Kingscross Station at half past ten. Harry scrambled out of the car as the driver bundled Harry's luggage, including Hedwig, into a trolley. "Well, see you in July," he shook Harry's hand and sped off in the Taxi. Harry gradually turned around and headed towards Platform Nine and Ten looking this way and that for anyone he knew, but he wasn't looking where he was going and-- CRASH! Harry fell on top of an unsuspecting Muggle, his bag and Hedwig's cage flew in all directions. Muggles were staring as they passed him. "Er, I'm sorry," he muttered, clambering off the Muggle and picking up a shrieking Hedwig. The Muggle picked up the rest of Harry's bags and placed them on the trolley. "Not at all, Harry Potter," he smiled. Harry stared at him. He looked up at the Muggle. He was tall, surely built with sleek black hair tied back into a ponytail. He wore an open leather jacket, tight black trousers and a pair of sunglasses rested on the top of his head. His bright white teeth sparkled through a wide smile as he pulled on black gloves. "Well, I expected a bit more of a welcome but that will have to do," he grinned. Harry frowned and then brightened. "You are the person who is going to--to--" "Be your bodyguard in a way," the bodyguard took the trolley and wheeled it towards the barrier dividing the platforms. "You don't really look, well, magical," said Harry. The bodyguard grinned again, broadly. "Well, I'm certainly not Muggle born. See," he poked a wand through his jacket. He leant forward on the trolley as they passed through the barrier into a cloud of smoke "Well, what shall I call you?" Harry stopped just before he was in sight of the train. "Edward McAlester, at your service, but just call me Ned, everyone does," he nodded towards the train. "Shall we board?" Harry and Ned turned round the corner and set off a brisk walk to the end of the train where they immediately took their seats in a compartment at the back. Ned also proved very useful when lifting luggage up the steps. Harry sat anxiously, waiting for Hermione or Ron to join him. Ned sat right next to the door and started knitting what looked like a bright pink jumper. "Ned?" "Hmm?" "Do you know why you are guarding me?" Ned sighed. "I'm just here to protect you. I don't know the facts." Harry considered this for a moment and then shrugged it off. There was silence for the next five minutes. Suddenly there was a great big commotion outside the door and in sprang Hermione looking hot and breathless and considerably brown. "Harry!" she squealed and threw herself beside him. "You look well, perhaps a little thinner, but still healthy." She all of it very fast. Ron's head appeared at the door. "Hey, Harry," he smirked and sat down opposite him. Hermione and Ron eyed Ned with interest. "Oh, this Ned, Ned this Ron and Hermione." Ned held out a hand and they shook it in turn. "Pleasure," he said and went back to knitting. Hermione looked confused. "What is he doing with you?" she asked, puzzled. Ron pulled out a crumpled newspaper article and smoothed it out on the table. They bent down to study it. Ministry Locked Him Up: For the past three weeks, writes Rita Skeeter special Daily Prophet correspondent, Harry Potter has been restricted from the Magical World and has become a prisoner in his own home. The Muggles he lives with have imprisoned him in his room on bread and water. The Ministry of Magic also forbids him to send messages to his friends. During his time at Hogwarts Harry Potter will be closely guarded by a member of the Ministry. In an interview today, the minister refused to comment on why he was doing this. Surely, Harry Potter, the boy who conquered He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, could also overcome the Muggles who are imprisoning him, an easy task for one so great and noble. Harry and Ron glared at Hermione. "I thought you said you would stop her from interfering in our lives," said Ron, angrily. "I was going to make her promise but she escaped," replied Hermione, simply. "She's going to get you back for putting her in a jar, Hermione," warned Harry. Hermione scowled at him. "Don't you ever use your brains? I can just use the fact that she is an Animagus," she said through clenched teeth. "'Great and noble' honestly I thought she had it in for me," said Harry hastily changing the subject, Ron laughed. "How did she know about Ned?" Hermione glanced at him. "Inside information?" Ron suggested. Hermione scoffed and took out a piece of parchment and a quill. "What are you doing? We haven't got any homework yet," groaned Ron. "I'm writing a thank you letter to Mr. and Mrs. Krum for having me over to stay this summer," said Hermione, carefully dipping her quill into the inkpot. "And you were going to explain to us why you didn't write!" said Ron, folding his arms and propping his feet on the table. "I was very busy," answered Hermione, as if this comment would end the conversation. "Doing what?" "Watching Krum in his Quidditch games, meeting well-known Quidditch players, watching them play, going to important banquets, reading my books, doing homework--" "Ok, ok, we get the picture," muttered Ron, quickly. Ned glanced up from his knitting. "Did you meet Bob McAlester?" he asked Hermione. "I think so, he's the one who's really tall and plays for England?" "That's the one, he's my cous--" the door of the compartment opened. Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, slid into the compartment. "So Potter, I hear you were put in prison. For what? Caught being a abnormal?" Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "I thought it was Weasley at first for not paying a fine or something." Ron and Harry blushed deep red. "Harry was not put in prison. I thought your father was in with the ministry and knew everything," snapped Hermione. Malfoy also blushed. "It's called exaggeration. Gosh, Granger I thought you knew everything. Keep your Mudblood head out of this," he snarled. Harry, Ron and Ned stood up quickly. "Who's this?" Malfoy pointed at Ned. "He's in with the ministry!" glared Harry as Ned crossed his arms menacingly and pulled out his wand. Malfoy muttered to Crabbed and Goyle and left immediately. Ron sat down, massaging his knuckles. "One of these days he will wish he never said that," he muttered darkly. Ned shook his head. "Ron, just leave the fighting to me!" Chapter four: A Little Surprise The Hogwarts Express puffed into Hogsmeade Station and everyone got off. Harry got the usual "hi Harry," "good summer, Harry?" and the new "hey Potter what's this about an agent?" Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ned got into the horseless carriages and watched the castle draw nearer and nearer. Though there was something different. As they passed the gates Harry noticed a Dementor standing at it, stooping low over the road. "What are they doing here?" hissed Hermione as Harry turned his face away. "Why do you think Ned's here? Probably for the same reason," whispered Ron and they glanced at Harry. Great, Harry thought, just my luck. Everyone will think I'm going to faint every time I see a Dementor. Hermione was looking at him, concerned. "Harry, you will be ok? I mean, you still can do the spell." Harry nodded. "Don't worry about making a fool of yourself," put in Ron unhelpfully, "I heard from a Ravenclw that Cho Chang's dad has gone on a job exchange so Cho and Lee Chang are going to Beauxbatons for a year." Harry and Hermione both looked surprised. Harry didn't really know how he felt. Relieved, disappointed, annoyed, or would he miss her? The four of them ran up the steps into the castle; hailstones were pelting down on them and inside they trotted off into the Great Hall. A great silence greeted them as they entered. Obviously most of the people in the hall had read Rita Skeeter's article and were hoping to have a glance of Harry Potter's new bodyguard who would join them for the coming year. Harry turned to Ned. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but could you possibly-um-er-possibly walk about three meters behind me so they don't think that I'm showing off or anything?" he stuttered. Ned raised an eyebrow. "Tell you what, I'll do that and I won't sit with you in lessons or when you eat. I'll get food from the kitchen," he walked over and stood by the door with his arms folded, looking stern. Harry sighed and made his way to the Gryffindor table. After the ceremony, Dumbledore stood up looking very grave. There were a few streaks of grey in his silver hair and bags appeared under his eyes, which did not sparkle. He took a deep breath. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts," he croaked. The age was beginning to show in his voice and face. "I trust you enjoyed your summer and did not work too hard. I will start this year with the notices first, so I won't have the painful duty of telling you later than necessary." He coughed and cleared his throat. "The ministry have yet again forbidden Quidditch matches for the third year running-" DUmbledore was interupted by angry yells. He held up a hand and the noise died down. "Considering a certain previous Quidditch match involving Dementors-" Harry saw Dumbledore's eyes flick towards him. He was aware that most the eyes in the hall followed suit "-we are trying to refrain from similar...experiences." The great hall elasped into enraged voices. Some people stood up to look at Harry and others were muttering darkly to each other. Dumbledore waited for silence and began again. "On a different note, you have probably noticed we have got a new member to our staff. This here is Professor Figg," he pointed to a witch on his left with long greasy, grey hair. "She will be the first female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has had in a long time." Everyone clapped, Hermione the loudest. Harry stared at the new witch. He rubbed his eyes, it couldn't be! He bent over to Ron, to tell him, but Dumbledore started speaking. "You have also noticed the Dementor at the gate. There are more dotted around the school, for our safety." Dumbledore's eyes flashed in Harry's direction and many heads turned to look at him. Dumbledore did not look pleased. He muttered something to McGonagall who nodded. "Now I don't want to keep you waiting, so please, do start," said Dumbledore and with that he and McGonagall disappeared out of the room. Ron and Harry exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Harry took this chance to explain to him and Hermione about 'Professor' Figg. "So you mean to tell us," said Ron slowly, "that our exciting new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a boring cat-loving, cabbage-smelling mad Muggle?" Hermione gasped. "Ron!" she exclaimed. "Don't speak about a teacher like that, for all you know she might be really clever and not mad. How do we know she is a Muggle? Most witches love cats, take me for example, and some 'old witches' smell of cabbage." Chapter five: 'Professor' Figg Over the past week Harry had endured the looks from his fellow students, but it was beginning to die down. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked to Defense Against the Dark ARts with Ned following several yards behind. Harry was half dreading, half anxious about the upcoming class that he did not talk much as they entered the classroom. They gasped and gaped-- the room was comletely transformed to what it was the last few years. They were used to skeletons of dragons and diagrams of how to capture a Kappa. Instead it was made into something that Harry recognized as being something quite similar to own Mrs. Figg's home. Drab, moldy curtains, large oak tables with greasy surfaces, large, faded pink, moth-eaten armchairs and the well-known pictures of Mr. Paws, Tibbles, Snowy and the rest of Mrs.' Figg's mangy cats. Ron glared at Hermione. "See," he glared at her. Hermione stared, transfixed, then shrugged. "It's good to bring something from one's own home, makes it more homely and probably boosts the confidence of the teacher," she remarked, casually setting herself down on an especially moth-eaten sofa and patted the space beside her. Ron sat down, muttering darkly that he didn't think so. Ned moved to stand in his usual position by the door, folded his arms and resumed his stern expression. Harry thought he had good reason to, Parvati and Lavender were giggling away at him behind their hands. The door opened and in tottered Mrs. Figg overloaded with a pile of books. She put her glasses on the end of her nose and squinted up at Ned. "Oh, could you be so kind, dear, as to help me with these?" She bundled Ned with the books and led him to the front desk, which was also covered in pictures of deceased cats. Ned set them down by a picture of Tufty. "Thank you, dear, now kindly go back to your place," she smiled up at him, unaware that he was too old and large to be a 6th year Gryffindor student and that the rest of the class were sniggering. Ned scowled and took a seat at the back of the class. Mrs. Figg sat down and stared at the class thoughtfully. "You are an ugly bunch, aren't you?" she remarked. "I suppose you don't eat cod-liver oil anymore, well, this is the best we'll get, eh?" she coughed slightly. The class exchanged bewildered looks. Mrs. Figg went through her file, her glasses sliding off the end of her nose. "I see you were taught by Mr. Lupin, ah Remus," she wiped her glasses and sniffed, "we go back a long way. And Romulus. Pity, a great pity," she swept a tear from her eye. The class thought they were listening to a raving lunatic. "Wel we can't all be perfect. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, you must be the fine Gryffindor students." The class blushed with pride. "You don't look that fine, a bit shabby, you there!" she pointed at Ron, slamming her wand on the table. Everyone jumped. Ron went white. "You look a bit perkier than the rest. What happened if I tickled a sleeping dragon?" Ron blinked, looking baffled. Everyone stared at her. "You would probably get burnt into cinders," he breathed. Some people chuckled. Mrs. Figg let out a soft laugh and pointed to Seamus. "Are you willing to bet his life on it?" she raised an eyebrow at Ron as he blushed and looked down at the floor. "For your information, that is correct. 'Never tickle a sleeping dragon'-- the school motto. Draco dormiens nunquam tit-titillandus. Write it!" She screetched making them jump again. Everyone started scribbling. "Now class, get out your copy of Warlocks in all their Splendour, and I shall pick people as we go to read out loud." Mrs. Figg pointed at Harry with her wand. "Harry, dear--why, you've got your mother's eyes," she pulled out her handkerchief and mopped her eyes. Ron grinned behind his hands. "Do, please, do, intrigue us with the sound of your 'lovely' voice." Ron snorted loudly. Mrs. Figg clasped her hands and closed her eyes. "Err, ok, Wizards think that Warlocks are just the average sorcerers, but warlocks lead much more complicated lives. They also play an important part in our lives. For centuries the French warlocks were treated with disdain and did not have the freedom and right as wizards did. But in 1789 the warlocks held a Revolution--" "Harry, Harry, dear, stop. The word revolution, it's an important word. Don't say like that, rev-o-lu-tion, say it slowly and clearly, roll the r," Mrs. Figg interrupted with her eyes still closed. Harry tried, feeling like an idiot. "That's it but not so aggressively, yes, you've got it. This time Harry, dear, say the whole thing slowly. It's not a race!" For the rest of the lesson the class took it in turns to read about warlocks and were interrupted to try different methods of saying words or to repeat the phrase with more enthusiasm. Mrs. Figg even asked Dean Thomas to act out chopping of Hermione's head because he didn't say the word 'guillotine' impressively enough. Even Ned got a lecture on how to say 'Roosevelt' because "Roosevelt was a very important wizard, dear, and you should not treat his name with such scorn. Stop using that grim tone of voice, dear, its not a funeral." The bell rang shrill and loud cutting Ron off in mid sentence and everyone scrambled to get to lunch first. "Homework, dears, homework. Write down the similarities and differences between the Muggle view of the French revolution and what really happened," screamed Mrs. Figg above the noise. Everyone got the impression that Mrs. Figg was not made to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Everyone of course, except Hermione. "She's just giving us some background information before we start. I think that Roosevelt is quite interesting and its good to start with something to get the class going." "You're only saying that because she gave you ten points for saying the word 'magic' with vigour. She's teaching us History of Magic and pronunciation, that's not Defense Against the Dark Arts," protested Ron. Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Ned standing over him. "Err, Harry, do you mind if I stay outside for her lessons in the future?" Chapter six: In Dumbledore's Office "So much for the season of Good Will," sighed Ron. He tore up his potions essay and threw it into the fire. The teachers seemed to take advantage of the Christmas holidays and piled homework upon them. Mrs. Figg had given them an essay to write on the different methods of Warlock magic, Snape had given them three essays and five potion recipes to make by the next lesson. Harry found being locked up at the Dursleys quite useful. From reading all his books he found himself ahead of most people in his class. "Well, Ron, if you had started straight away, then you would have finished by now," purred Hermione from the fire. "You've finished?! Can't I have a look at your's?" whined Ron. "No, you certainly won't!" she said. Ned came through the portrait hole. "Hi, Harry. Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office. I'm not supposed to come," he puffed. Harry looked at Ron who shrugged and carried on with his essay. Harry marched towards the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. He gawked at it. The gargoyle had cat's eyes the same ones as his wardrobe had! He blinked and they disappeared. He swallowed hard, putting them out of his mind. "Cockroach Cluster," he said clearly to it. The gargoyle jumped aside letting Harry run in. "This is absurd, Albus," he heard Professor McGonagall raised voice and stood still outside the door, listening. "It is perfectly logical, professor," hissed Fudge's voice. "The dementors are here to protect the boy, so is Edward McAlster. It is necessary that he is guarded at all costs so that he doesn't come back to get him. "Likely that will happen, with Albus here," scoffed McGonagall. "Harry will be fine. We, the teachers, can look after him. Are you familiar with Professor Figg's history?" Harry heard Fudge mutter under his breath. "Minerva does have a point," Dumbledore's voice put in, "it is not necessary for the dementors to be here guarding Harry when we have perfectly good teachers, such as Arabella, here to keep him safe. If Black does turn up then we will give you a call." Fudge grunted, sulkily. "I am the minister of magic and I say that the dementors are needed to get rid of Black and to stop Harry doing any mistakes as he did last time," he argued. "Come off it Fudge, all we need now is the pupils terrified out of their wits. Harry is old enough and has more sense than you to do some of the stupid things you suggested. Are you implying that we lock him up like you made the Muggles do?" Harry could not stand it any longer. He knocked on the door. McGonagall stopped speaking and opened it. Harry saw a red-faced Fudge standing by the window and a very white Professor McGonagall clutching the door handle. "Ah, Harry, we were just talking about you. How are things with Ned McAlester?" stuttered Fudge. "Fine, thank you. Professor," Harry turned to Dumbledore, "you wanted to see me?" "Indeed, Harry. Minerva, minister, do excuse me whilst I talk to Harry here," Dumbledore pointed to the door. Fudge and McGonagal traipsed out the door, muttering to themselves. Dumbledor closed the door. Harry sat down on the chair opposite Dumbledore. Dumbledore was pouring tea. "Tea?" he said lifting the pot. Harry shook his head. "So, Harry, I'm sure you heard our little conversation back there?" said Dumbledore, settling into a chair. Harry blushed. "Oh no, my boy, do not be ashamed. I intended you to hear. So what did you hear?" he looked at Harry. The twinkled in his blue eyes returned. "I heard something about Ned and Sirius and the Dementors," Harry whispered, uncertainly. "Yes, that's right. Fudge believes that Sirius has come back to 'finish the job' and he believes that Sirius has meddled even deeper into the dark arts, so that he is even more powerful. He has tightened the security for you, bringing back the dementors and introducing Mr. McAlester to boost protection." He sipped his tea thoughtfully. Harry was still puzzled. "Did you agree to all this?" Dumbledore sighed and took another sip. "I cannot argue with the minister of magic, even I can't change his mind. But I realized that Voldemort is getting stronger and one of these days he will get you. So I had to agree." He put his tea down. "Harry, do you remember saying to Fudge after the Triwizard tournament that Voldemort was back and stronger than before?" Harry nodded. "Fudge doesn't believe you, he has a mind of his own and refuses to listen to better advice. He does not think that it is Voldemort, but Sirius. Rita Skeeter saw us in my office after the tournament and obviously told Fudge. He thinks that I am covering Sirius up and using Voldemort as an excuse. THere what do you think about that?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled into a smile. Harry bit his lip. Sirius was in trouble again, because of him. "Does Sirius know?" "In time, he will. Now Harry I suggest that you enjoy the remainder of the holidays and try to not to worry about Sirius." Dumbledore open the door and ushered Harry out. Harry slowly walked back to the Gryffindor tower. His head was spinning; he was confused and troubled. How was he going to explain this to Hermione and Ron? Suddenly he had a very bad headache. Chapter seven: The Dementor Returns Christmas passed into Easter and then into the week before the exams. The Gryffindor tower was alive with the buzz of talk that a Hogsmeade trip was being organized that weekend. Hermione on the other hand was not keen on the idea. "We need to revise for the exams, how are we going to pass if we have this kind of distraction!" Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, we have been revising solidly the whole time, we deserve a break," he said, counting his money. Hermione looked appalled. "Ron we have got exams next week," she complained. "Come on Hermione, you already know it all. We are not going to fail because we missed an hour or two of revision," Harry whined. Hermione looked doubtful. "Well, I could find some books to help me with revision," she said, slowly. Ron shook his head. Harry, Ron, Hermione and of course, Ned trooped in and out of the Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, the post office, Zonko's Joke Shop and Dervish and Bangs. Pink with cold and laden with bags, they set off to the Shrieking Shack. They carefully avoided Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who were going to the opposite direction and walked at a brisk pace. They stopped at the outside of the Shack. "Looks a bit dull today," Ron commented and looked up at the sky as the first drops of rain started to fall. Hermione and HArry nodded. "And in June, honestly--" Harry wasn't listening. He wasn't even aware of the heavy rain pouring down his cheeks. He started to feel the cold pang of dread and fear. He looked behind them and his eyes bulged. "Look!" he shouted. Ron and HErmione stared about them. "What?" they said. "Look, look there!" HArry yelled. "Can't you see them? The eyes! The two cat's eyes, there!" He pointed at them. He felt suddenly very cold. He felt his breath rasp and he heaved. The cold went deeper into his skin. There was a rushing in his ears and his head swam. "Harry, Harry!" A bright light appeared, blazing in front of Harry's own eyes. He blinked. The cold was gone-- and so were the eyes. Ned had his wand out, raised. Hermione and Ron were white. "Harry, are you alright? What was that?" Hermione gasped. "I think, I think--" murmured Harry. "It was a Dementor," Ned handed Harry some chocolate. "I got rid of it with that patronus." Harry gulped down the chocolate. "But it didn't look like a Demntor, I mean you couldn't really see it," he said, through a mouthful of chocolate. "The eyes were those of a Dementor's," he growled. "They are the eyes under a Dementor's hood. A Dementor can apparate like a normal wizard but only its eyes can appear. I've been noticing them a lot lately, following us around the school and I also noticed them in Honeydukes." "Why are they doing it?" asked Ron. "Either the ministry doesn't trust me or its for extra security, both ways, it's possible." "But Dementors can't see?!" Hermione exclaimed. Ned nodded. "Oh yes, they are blind. They just, sort of, feel and sense their way around. "Why don't the Dementors give anyone the, the--?" Hermione started. "The kiss?" Ned interjected. Hermione nodded. "They're paid, of course. Terrible job! Following food around but you can't eat it, oh, the temptations! Now," he picked up Harry's bags, "let's get a move on then." All the way back Harry kept on looking about them to see if any Dementors were following. Once or twice he thought he saw a flicker of an eye but looking again he thought otherwise. Chapter eight: Hagrid Harry, Ron and Hermione waddled slowly out of their last exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts, with large smiles. "That wasn't so bad, it was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be," chatted Hermione. "Easy!" exclaimed Ron. "Writing for an hour on Warlocks and what they have for breakfast, I'd say that's boring and extremely pointless." "Well at least it's the only year of going through Warlocks in all their Splendour again," said Harry, as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. They sat down at the table and helped themselves to sausage casserole. "Hedwig!" Hermione shouted. HArry looked up to see Hedwig swooping down and dropping a letter onto Harry's casserole. Dear Harry, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL YEAR? Come around this evening round seven with Ron and Hermione and we can catch up on lost time. Hope all exams went well Cheers, Hagrid Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged awkward looks. They had forgotten to visit Hagrid. "Well, we have been very busy," said Hermione, after a long pause. "Yeah, with 'stuff and all," nodded Ron. Harry put down the letter. How was he going to face Hagrid? At a quarter to seven that evening, Harry, Ron, and Hermione trailed by Ned, left Gryffindor tower and knocked on Hagrid's door. There was no answer. The lights were off and the curtains were closed. "Hagrid? Hagrid, are you there?" Harry called. Still there was no answer. "Where is he?" said Ron looking about. "Look!" Hermione pointed towards the Forbbiden Forest. Something large was moving near the outskirts and disappeared amongst the trees. "Hagrid!" Hermione shouted and ran into the forest. "Hermione!" Ron and Harry yelled after her. "Now what are we going to do?" Ron moaned waving his hands around. Ned turned to them. "You two, stay here, I'll go in after Hermione. At all costs, don't move!" he ran after Hermione and into the forest. Harry took to pacing up and down and Ron stared at the forest, waiting for Ned and Hermione to return. A long silence passed. Ron broke it. "Do you think they're hurt?" Harry stopped and considered. "I don't know," he said and resumed pacing. More silence reigned. "Where are they?" Ron sat down and rested his head on his knees. "I don't know," repeated Harry. More silence. Harry stopped pacing. "I'm going in," he said, finally and started to walk towards the forest. Ron looked up. "What? You're not serious, are you?" he said, slowly. "Course I am," said Harry, indignantly. "Wait!" Ron got up and raced to keep up with Harry. "So, what are we actually doing in here?" he said nervously, looking up at the trees. Harry didn't answer; he was looking this way and that hissing "hermione. Hagrid. Ned?" He saw movement in the trees and set off at a sprint towards it. Oblivious to Ron's shouts, he ran as fast as he could to where he saw the movement. He came into a clearing, alone and out of breath. Someone was standing in front of him. "Hermione?" The figure turned around. IT was not Hermione. It was not even Ned, or Hagrid. Chapter nine: The Dementor's Kiss Voldemort. Taller than Harry had remembered him, he towered above Harry as he stepped forward to meet him. "Harry Potter," he whispered. Harry felt the prick of pain of his scar. "I wondered when I would be seeing you soon. Disappointing," he smiled, "that I wasted a whole year trying on Lupin when I could have done it myself, and, he didn't even do it properly, so when he came back to me, I killed him. No matter, I can just kill you tonight as well." Voldemort clicked his fingers. Ropes appeared from nowhere, binding him to the nearest tree. He took Harry's wand. "Your friend, Miss Granger, annoying little Mudblood, easy to deceive," he clapped two long, white hands together. Two dark figures arrived dragging an unconscious Hermione with them. "Ah, Dementors," he sighed, "useful allies. Though I must say they don't look a thing like that oaf Hagrid. I made them follow you around the school, telling me everything about you. They were my ticket to get you out of school. From my information, killing you would be like stabbing Dumbledore in the heart. Oh yes, Potter," voldemort grinned, evilly as he saw the horror on Harry's face. "Oh yes. Dumbledore had a soft spot for your mother and father and now he has one for you. I want to use you to get at Dumbledore. One of the only tools I have against him," he finished, softly. Harry looked around for Ron and Ned. Why couldn't they have listened to him instead of running into the forest! Ron was lost, Ned probably was as well and here Harry was, right under the eye of the most powerful dark wizard. Voldemort left Harry and went over to the Dementors, muttering to them. Harry noticed there was a slight rustling in the trees. Voldemort noticed it too. He muttered something to the Dementors and they disappeared. A few moments later there was a great scuffling and they appeared immediately with Ron. They roughly threw him on the floor, knocking him out instantly. Voldemort inspected him. "Another one of your friends, well, well. I'll kill him after the Mudblood," Voldemort sneered. Harry could not bear it. He did not trust himself to speak. Voldemort was talking again. "I thought that I could kill you myself and your friends could have a kiss goodbye." Voldemort leered nastily at Harry and pointed to the Dementors. "They have been getting very hungry lately-" "No!" Harry cried. Birds flew up out of the forest as one. "No?" Voldemort said, softly. "No? My, Harry, they won't feel any pain." He walked over and stood next to him, watching a Dementor pick up Hermione by the front of her robe. Harry was very confused what happened next. He vaguely remembered Ned jumping out from behind a tree and producing an extremely blinding light. A patronus. The Dementors split and departed, smoothly leaving Hermione and Ron alone. Voldemort looked shocked and went over to stand by Ron and Hermione. "So you can produce a patronus," he cooed at Ned. "You must be Potter's bodyguard, well, well." Ned stared at Voldemort in horror and disbelief and then pulled himself together. He ran towards Harry, untying him before Voldemort could get out his wand in time. Massaging his wrists, Harry was relieved to be free and to see Ned was all right. Voldemort reached into his robes an dpulled out Harry's wand. "Stupefy!" he pointed the wand at Ned. Ned fell limp to the ground. Voldemort clapped his hands frantically and after a brief pause a Dementor appeared. "Finish him off," he nodded his head at Ned. Harry couldn't believe what he saw. He watched paralyzed as the Dementor bent over Ned. A few seconds it looked as though Ned was screaming and writhing in the Dementors clutch and then, he flopped to the ground. Voldemort smiled, ever so slightly and nodded to the Dementor as it left. "So, Harry, it's just you and me, let that be a lesson. Never meddle in things that don't concern you," he said getting out his own wand and throwing Harry his. Harry squeezed his wand tightly until the whites in his knuckles showed. He will pay, Harry thought, he will regret ever doing that. The world around him blurred and Harry furiously wiped his eyes. He didn't want voldemort to see him crying. He thought he heard something. He looked up; head cocked to one side and listened. It was the loud gallop of hooves, getting louder and louder. A centaur with white-blonde hair and a palomino body jumped clean over him, charging at Voldemort. The pain in Harry's scar finally set in. He felt as if his scar was burning into his head, he staggered back and fell to his knees. Through his fingers he saw no sign of Voldemort or any Dementors. He closed his eyes and plunged down...down...down into blackness... Chapter ten: Answers Explained A bright light glinted above him. A patronus. He lifted up his head to have a closer look but the pain in his scar was too great. He screwed up his eyes and opened them. The white linen sheets and the bright bedpans of the hospital wing formed a hazy image in front of his eyes. Sitting beside him was the hunched figure of Dumbledore nodding his head as if asleep. Harry coughed. Dumbledore jerked awake. He smiled at him. "Ah, Harry, recovered?" Harry nodded. "Excellent, so you will be glad to know that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have also made a full recovery," he nodded his head towards two other beds on Harry's right. Harry paused. "Not Ned?" Harry said slowly. Dumbledore paled and took a deep breath. "Alas, not even the greatest sorcerer can cure Mr McAlester. He is beyond any help, but he is in good hands now with Professor Figg, his mother." Harry's eyes widened. "He never said!" he exclaimed. Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, odd isn't it? She didn't recognize him; he had changed so much. Funny the way people's minds work," Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye. Harry fell back heavily on his pillows. "So, what...what will happen now?" he managed to say. "Arabella will retire to look after her son," he sighed, "which means I will have to put in another request for a new Defense Against the Dark ARts teacher." Harry rubbed his scar thoughtfully. "Sir, the patronus that Ned made--" he began. "I requested for him especially to look after you because he could produce a strong enough patronus. Never trust Dementors, Harry! His patronus, if you must know, was that of a goat as he spent his childhood shepherding them in Scotland," he said dreamily. Harry swallowed. "But, sir, why did Voldemort run away from the centaur--Firenze?" "Did you not know? My, Voldemort is terrified of centaurs, hates them. I thought you discovered that in your first year, dear me," Dumbledore said, scratching his head. "Sir--" Harry started. "Questions, questions, questions, Harry, you have plenty of them," Dumbledore sighed, "do continue." "Err, yes, will I still be under surveillance?" Dumbledore chuckled. "The minister has finally realized that Dementors can not be trusted and that Sirius is not to blame for that little encounter in the forest. So you are free to stay with Mr. Weasley for some of this summer," he said. Harry grinned. Dumbledore picked up a chocolate frog. "Oh, Harry, might I?" he asked, unwrapping the frog. HArry nodded. "Oh!" Dumbledore looked at the card with disappointment. "I must say I do look ugly in that picture!" The next few days were a blur to Harry. People running up to him for his, Hermione, and Ron's autographs, pictures were being taken and every morning he was drowned in letters. Harry was sorry to leave Hogwarts, but he was looking forward to the summer when he would visit Ron. Though before that he had to endure the first bit with the Dursleys. As they waved goodbye to Hagrid, the train puffed out from Hogsmeade station. Harry sat back and enjoyed a game of exploding snap with Ron. Hermione was scribbling away ever since they left Hogwarts. "Hermione, at least wait till you get home to do homework," Ron groaned. Hermione frowned at him. "Stop jumping to conclusions, Ron. I'm not doing homework, like I should be," she said. Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm writing a letter to the Daily Prophet." "Why?" Harry lent forward. "Well, you know that newspaper article that appeared in September?" "Go on." "Well, Rita Skeeter's also been terrorizing other people this year, Ned for instance. She wrote a whole article on him--" "Get to the point." "I was going to. Anyway, I've had enough of that Skeeter woman so I'm writing to the Daily Prophet to tell them about her. They don't want an unregistered animagus working for them, I mean their reputation will go down hill if it gets around." "Ah, clever!" Ron patted Hermione on the back just as the train puffed into platform 9 3/4. Harry, together with Ron and Hermione, headed towards the Muggle world for what would be his last year with the Dursleys. |