The Heart of Gryffindor
by SJR0301
Chapter Fifteen
Harry had managed to avoid Ron and Hermione's solicitous lectures and everyone else's conversation for days after. On the day before Halloween and their first Hogsmeade visit however, Ginny managed to corner him as he was sitting and staring into the fire in the Gryffindor common room. The dirty weather had continued and even Ron had admitted they couldn't have Qudditch practice amid sleet and more hail.
So Harry had retired to an armchair while Ron and Hermione had gone off as Headboy and Headgirl to assist with the first through third years' Saturday dueling lessons. Even Neville had left Harry alone, although Harry was sure that was because Neville was being courteous, not because he was scared.
"So how long are you going to continue doing that?" Ginny asked.
"Doing what?" he rejoined grumpily.
"Sulking," she said succinctly.
"I'm not sulking," he answered.
"Oh, no," she answered, "You think you have a contagious disease, maybe? You're just being noble so that no one can get near enough to you to get infected?"
"That's ridiculous," he said, and he got up and stalked out of the portrait hole in a temper.
"That's very good," Ginny said. "Running away now? What do you think I'm going to do, flinch away from you because you're a powerful wizard? Like we didn't already know that?"
He kept walking almost randomly, looking for someplace no one would follow him. Except Ginny was huffing slightly at his heels and he had the ominous feeling that the huffing presaged a full-out Weasley tantrum. A quiet, empty room where no one could hear was essential.
He kept climbing until he had reached the seventh floor and stalked quickly down the empty hallway and fairly leapt into the first door that offered itself. Ginny followed right behind him and he turned to face her, relieved that if she yelled in the Room of Requirement, no one outside would hear her.
"I'm not sulking," Harry said, leaping to the offense. "I can't help it if everyone goes about staring at me fearfully and thinking I'm going to curse them any second, or that I must be a dark wizard to be able to deflect curses without even appearing to try."
"So that's a good reason to avoid your friends!" she retorted. "When you know perfectly well that none of us think that."
"I haven't been avoiding you," he said. But getting the proper firmness in his voice was difficult on that one, because he had been.
"Yes, you have," she said furiously. "And not just because of this latest thing. No, you've been very careful not to see too much of me ever since this summer." Harry flushed and started to deny that, but she cut in.
"You have then. Everyone's going to be looking tomorrow to see if we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. We were dating all last year and you hardly talk to me this year. They all think you're tired of me. Maybe they're right, too."
"I am not tired of you!" he shouted, losing his temper at last. "But I'm not taking you to Hogsmeade or anywhere else where people will think we're dating."
"Oh," she answered angrily, "so I'm good enough for the garden in secret, but not anywhere else."
"You said that would be secret," he protested.
"Well, I didn't expect you to ignore me, did I?"
"I warned you," he said softly. "I warned you."
"Yes," she answered. "But that doesn't mean what you're doing is right. Putting on that show like you weren't coming back to school. What was that in aid of?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he asked.
"Spell it out, then," she said, glaring at him, "because I'm too stupid to get it."
"All right," he said moving in on her and taking her by the shoulders. "I'm not letting anyone know we're dating because I don't want anyone going after you. I don't want Voldemort or his Death Eaters or any Death Eater wannabes like Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle going after you because they think it's a good way to get me! And I stayed off the train because that was the one day I wasn't at Privet Drive of Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts where Voldemort couldn't attack me. And how many other people might have been hurt or killed, even Muggles, if he came after me at the station again!"
"Oh," she said. He shook her just a little again and then did what he'd been thinking about for weeks. Kissed her hungrily until he couldn't breathe. Then he looked down at her and saw, with astonishment and fear, that tears were trickling down her cheeks.
"What's this?" he said horrified.
"I'm so stupid," she said. "And I was afraid you really didn't...you know, like me anymore."
She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve and then her eyes narrowed and she said, "Anyway, Hogwarts isn't foolproof. Voldemort got in last year, didn't he?"
Harry frowned and said, "Yeah. But I still don't know how he got in. I was in Dumbledore's office and the portraits came running in to tell him."
Ginny sniffed again and pushed her hair out of her face as though it was keeping her from thinking. "We were in the Great Hall, A whole bunch of us. And Moaning Myrtle came in wailing. I remember that particularly because she doesn't come out of her bathroom very often. And then he showed up with all those Death Eaters and a pack of goblins, too."
"Moaning Myrtle?" Harry repeated. "Of course," he said, "He came in through the Chamber of Secrets. There has to be an exit to the outside, maybe into Hogsmeade."
"It's not on your map," she offered.
"It wouldn't be," he said. "My Dad, and Lupin and Sirius and Wormtail made it. But they never knew where the Chamber of Secrets was. They were never in it, so they didn't put it in the map. I wonder," he added thoughtfully, "how many other things we don't know about Hogwarts. I wonder where that exit goes to, and what else is down there."
"You are not going into the Chamber of Secrets," she said.
"I dunno. Don't you think it'd be a good idea to find that exit? It's an entrance too when you think about it. It ought to be shut up so he can't get in that way again."
She stared at him and said, "You'd better not think of doing that alone. Who knows what else is down there? How do you know there aren't other traps or monsters there?"
"Well who else can do it?" he asked reasonably. "No one else can get in because they don't speak Parseltongue. And anyway, I'm not doing it right now. I just think we should think about it. It's a safety thing. Security for the school."
"I want your word you won't go alone," she said. He smiled.
"That's easy. There's nothing down there but a dead basilisk. And that can't hurt anyone."
She shivered and he kissed her again, thinking that was a good way to shut off the unwelcome memories. It worked quite well for him, as he soon found he wasn't thinking of anything else at all. It couldn't last forever, Harry knew, but he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her long red-mane and felt, for one moment, entirely safe and loved.
"We'd better go," he said. "And you'll have to go back separately, okay. I don't want anyone thinking we were together this long." He looked down at her face, which was trouble-free now, and said, "And don't look so happy either."
"That's a bit difficult," she answered.
"Well think about something else then," he replied. "Think about something that makes you really mad. Go back steaming, you know, and use a few choice words when anyone mentions my name."
She grinned up at him, mischief incarnate. "Right," she said, "Stupid git. Dung for brains. I can do that."
"Good," he said. "Go on then. And don't say anything to anyone. Not even Hermione or Ron."
"Not even...?" she asked. "You're serious about that?"
"Yeah, I am," he said. "They’re the best friends in the world, but neither of them is very good at acting or deception. I don't want them looking calm or complacent when anyone brings up the subject of us dating. As it is now, Ron will be torn between being angry with me for hurting your feelings and relief that you're out of the way. And Hermione will simply be anxious and confused. And maybe she'll wonder if I...well, if I am capable of sustaining an interest in a girl for more than a few months at a time. You see."
"Yes, I do," she said quietly. "It’s too bad, though, that we have to deceive them."
"We can't have this at all, otherwise," Harry answered.
She nodded and said, "How do you know I'm a good enough actress for this?"
He felt a grin twitch at his lips. "You lie without a blush. You deceived you Mum when you were throwing dungbombs at the door in Grimmauld Place."
She looked thoughtful and said, "I dunno. I bet she knew it was me. Mum's always know."
"Come on," Harry objected, "she'd have yelled at you for an hour if she knew it was you."
"Maybe," Ginny said. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she added, "but she lets me get away with stuff the boys can't get away with 'cause I'm the youngest and the only girl. And mostly, I do what she wants." She gave him a fleeting kiss and left the room without waiting for his reply.
Harry waited a good quarter of an hour before leaving the Room of Requirement. He closed his eyes and tried to find a place of calm and checked to make sure the wall in his mind that kept Voldemort out, was well-sealed against intrusion. In the deepest, most private corner of his mind, the thought that Voldemort might have a glimpse of this rare bit of happiness gave him the shivers. He wrapped the warm feelings deep in his heart, in the box where he kept his deepest secrets, and locked it back up again. Then he walked out of the door and sauntered down the hallway trying to look as if he were passing that way only by accident.
"So you come here too," Luna Lovegood said, catching Harry quite by surprise. He turned and said, "Too?"
"The Room of Requirement," Luna answered. Her huge blue eyes looked particularly misty. "For solitude, and for the right atmosphere. I find it quite relaxing when I am in need of reflection."
Harry was on the verge of lying and denying he'd been there. But then it seemed pointless as Luna had already assumed he went for a different reason. Well, not altogether different. He had been alone, With Ginny.
He surprised himself further as he found himself saying, "I get tired, you know. Of everyone watching me all the time to see what I'll do, whether I'll go out and challenge Voldemort, or simply go mad, or, whatever."
"People do that when you're different," Luna answered. "It doesn't matter if they think you're just weird like they think I am, or if they can't understand where your talents come from, like you. It's all the same when you're an outsider." Harry was caught between wanting to return before Hermione or Ron lectured him and curiosity.
"So, what do you do," he asked, "just sit and think?"
She smiled mistily at him and said, "Come and see." Curiosity won out.
Harry followed her back into the Room of Requirement only it was her room now, not his. It looked and felt like a cross between Trelawney's Tower and Firenze's forest. The ceiling was now like the night sky, with stars blazing overhead, and the room held several cushiony chairs with a large clear crystal ball and numerous astrology and divination texts on a small round table. It was lit by floating globes that burned with a blueish tint and the air was fresh and woodsy, not heavy with the kind of perfumed incense that Trelawney favored.
"When you're quiet," Luna said dreamily, "and your surroundings are right, the veil thins sometimes." She sat and waved her hand over the crystal, in whose clear depths, misty clouds appeared. Her blue eyes fixed on the crystal and she sat with utter calm and every evidence that she might simply stay there for hours, or days.
"It's very nice," Harry said uncomfortably. "I'll just leave you then, so your solitude won't be disturbed."
"Do you never look?" she asked without removing her gaze from the shimmering crystal.
"What? In the crystal?" Harry said. "I've never seen anything in a crystal ball."
Then she did look up and she said quite seriously, "But you heard the voices behind the veil, didn't you? In the Department of Mysteries."
Harry frowned and nodded, not sure what she was implying.
"Only Seers hear the dead, Harry," she quite serenely.
"Rubbish," he said firmly. "I'm not a Seer. I've never made a correct prediction. I've never seen a thing in the crystal."
"The talent has many manifestations," she answered. "Professor Trelawny Sees, but doesn't remember. And all the rest are trappings. Firenze is wise, but he does not See in the same way Professor Trelawney does. Which is the true Seer? Can you tell?"
"How do you know Trelawney actually Sees?" he asked.
"Oh, well. When she predicted He Who Must Not Be Named would return in your third year, you told Hermione and Hermione said something to Ginny. And he did return, too. And her initials were on the shelf on that prophecy that was made about you defeating You Know Who. So that one was important enough to get a place in the Hall of Prophecy. But you see, she doesn't remember making it or she would have boasted about it in class, wouldn't she?"
"You're a good deal smarter than you let on, Luna, aren't you?" Harry responded.
She smiled dreamily at him and said, "So are you, Harry Potter. So are you. As You Know Who will learn to his dismay."
"Is that a prophecy?" he asked jokingly.
"Not at all," she answered. "I'd call it a bet, based on knowledge and a dash of intuition. And based on Trelawney's original prophecy--that you would defeat the Dark Lord."
"And how do you know what's in that prophecy?" Harry asked. This time she looked at him in surprise.
"It's in the history books. After the Curse that Failed, they put in the history books that you were the subject of a prophecy, that you would defeat the You Know Who. And everyone assumed the prophecy was fulfilled when he disappeared and you survived the Curse." She gave him a funny look and said, "Haven't you ever read about it?"
He snorted and said not too unkindly, "Why would I want to read about my Mum and Dad dying. I already know they're dead. I don't need all the extra rubbish about my supposed heroic powers to go along with it."
Luna sat quietly a moment as though she were digesting that and then said, "I wonder what was in the rest of it."
"In the rest of it?" Harry echoed.
"The reason why You Know Who wanted it," Luna said. And her blue gaze was not misty at all now. "There had to have been more in it. If you didn't destroy him altogether the first time, then there must have been something in it that told how you might defeat him in the end. It's obvious."
"Maybe," Harry said, "but it broke and Trelawney doesn't remember what she really Sees, does she."
"It's too bad," Luna said. "But you'll still defeat him. It's in the stars."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, and she looked at him sharply again and with amusement as though she had heard and quite clearly discounted the skepticism in his voice. Then her gaze changed and she blushed just a little.
"Can I ask you a question?" He nodded and waited, thinking it would be something about Voldemort or seeing things.
"Have you ever been in love with anybody?" Luna asked.
He looked at her now in alarm and and said, "Erm..."
"I think I am Harry," Luna said dreamily, "but I can't talk about it to anyone because they'll laugh. And he, he will think I'm mad, maybe."
"He?" Harry said. He gulped and wished he were as far away as possible now. But he couldn't think how to get out of this without being horribly cruel.
"Firenze," Luna said. "He's so beautiful. So wise. So pure, in a way. But he's a centaur, so I can't tell anyone. And I'm afraid to tell him. Do you think that's strange? That I should love a centaur?"
"I dunno," Harry answered. "I'm not very good at this sort of stuff Luna. But I don't see how it could be...bad. Just..." He tried to think of something that would be kind but not get her hopes up. And he had to admit to himself, that he was terribly relieved she hadn't said it was he, Harry, she loved.
"Just...Dumbledore said to me once, that love is an ancient magic. So I don't think it's bad." He sighed then and said, "But I'm afraid centaurs don't take up with humans, you know. They think we're actually inferior."
Luna turned her gaze back to the crystal and said, "that was kind, Harry." When she didn't lift her gaze back up, but continued to look into it as if mesmerized, Harry shrugged and left
When Harry returned to the common room, a number of the Seventh Years were scattered about thumbing through the Career Advice packets they'd been given.
"I guess I'll go on the tour of St. Mungos," Neville said. "And the Ministry as well, I suppose."
"What would you do at the Ministry, Neville?" Hermione asked kindly. She was ensconced in one of the armchairs with a pair of knitting needles flying in the air beside her from whom one could see the outlines of tiny elf-sized sweaters. Her knitting had improved far enough that Harry thought she could go into business if she made adult sized sweaters instead of elf-sized ones. But he kept that opinion to himself as he was quite sure she would be very irritated if he said so.
Neville said defiantly, as though he was waiting for everyone to laugh, "If I can't be a healer, I'll be an auror like my Mum and Dad were."
But nobody laughed. The Neville who sat there had grown into a powerful Defense Against the Dark Arts student. With motivation and his new wand, his work bore little resemblance to the accident-prone failures of his first years.
"That's me as well," Ron said. "But I dunno, it says we should choose at least three tours, so I guess I'll take the Gringotts one just in case I can't make the grade at the Ministry. Bill's supposed to go back after this term, and I guess it wouldn't be too bad being a curse-breaker. We've certainly learned quite a bit about it." Harry said nothing. He found a place on the rug since all the chairs were taken and sat observing the others with his kness hunched to his chest.
"What about you, Harry?" Parvati asked.
He shrugged and said, "I'll try the Minstry, too. But I expect I'd better look in a couple of other places. There's a few people there that don't like me very well."
"They'd never turn you down to be an auror," Parvati said. "It'd be a scandal. The only person ever to defeat Voldemort and they wouldn't take you on as an auror? I don't think so."
Harry smiled sardoncially at her and said, "You'd think so. Only the Ministry is controlled by politics and by the Minister of Magic. And Fudge isn't too happy with me just now."
"What's he got to be unhappy with you about?" Seamus asked.
"I haven't killed Voldemort off for him soon enough," Harry said dryly. "It's a big disappointment. It puts him under pressure now that he's had all those articles reassuring people and Voldemort is still killing people and I haven't killed him."
There was the usual awkward silence that followed when Harry said uncomfortable things about Voldemort. Then Seamus turned the conversation away from careers and back to his favorite theme lately. "So, Lavender, darlin'," he said daringly and exaggerating his Irish accent as he did when he was excited, "are you going to go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow and make all my dreams come true?"
Lavender blushed prettily and waited a few seconds, leaving Seamus's face to fall with disappointment before saying, "If you put it that way, Seamus, yes. You don't get many chances to make dreams come true in life, do you?"
Seamus flushed happily and moved a little nearer. Then he turned and said to Harry, "I suppose you're taking Ginny then, aren't you?" He opened his mouth and closed it with a snap, feeling his temper rise before he could contain it.
" 'Course, he's not," Ginny piped in from the depths of another armchair. Harry could feel the heat continue to rise in his cheeks. Ron stared at him and said, "What's up with you two then?"
"Nothing," Ginny answered calmly. "I'm going with Dean tomorrow." Harry stared at her reproachfully and then remembered this was his idea. Well, not the part about her going with Dean. He swallowed down his feelings, which were confused, and consisted of anger, and comfort in Ginny's cool, and something else unidentifiable that he didn't want to look at too closely.
"Right," he managed quite calmly at last. "That was last year. And besides, it was a joke. 'Cause Ginny was annoyed at Dean for jumping to the wrong conclusions." He breathed deeply as if Snape was testing him in an Occlumency lesson and managed to achieve a surface appearance of serenity.
"What I want to know," Lavender said with unusual seriousness, "is whether you're really going with Draco Malfoy, Parvati." Harry gawped at Parvati as did everyone else in the room.
"Yes," Parvati said defiantly. "Why not? Just because he feuds with Harry doesn't mean everyone else in the House has to. He asked me, and I said yes."
"His Dad is a Death Eater," Harry blurted out. "And you're not a pure blood. He's bad, Parvati, all on his own. You must know it."
Parviat looked at him coolly and said, "Since when do you monitor everyone's dating activities? And just because I'm not a pureblood doesn't mean I can't have a date with him. It's not a marriage proposal, you know." She looked at him challengingly, and added, "Unless you have another idea?"
"Not really," Harry answered. "But you could have any guy in school, Parvati. Go out with Neville, or Anthony Goldstein, or Justin Finch-Fletchly. You don't have the faintest idea what his father is, his family. You'd be better off dating a Muggle than Draco Malfoy."
"How about you, then?" Parvati said angrily. "Or will you be too busy paying attention to another girl while you're dating me?" Harry flushed bright red.
"I deserve that I suppose," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry, too." Parvati stared at him and her pretty face softened a bit, so he added even more apologetically, "I'm not going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. And I'm not dating anyone right now. I can't."
"Not going to Hogsmeade?" Ron said.
"What do you mean, you can't?" Parvati asked.
Harry stood up abruptly and said, "How can I date anyone? And who would want to? I mean, you want to be number two on Voldemort's hit list? Anybody who gets near me gets killed. He even tried to kill my poor stupid Muggle Aunt last spring. What do you think he'd do to anyone I seriously dated?" Everyone stared at him, quite aghast as he continued, "I'm not going to Hogsmeade for the same reason I didn't come to school by the Hogwarts Express. That way no one will get killed if Death Eaters come after me." He made for the stairs before he had to see everyone's pitying faces. He didn't want pity. But he did want understanding. At least now, they'd get it, he hoped.
Halloween Day dawned bright and clear. Harry woke with a blistering ache in his scar for the first time in many days, the result, he supposed, of having gone to sleep without having gone through his Occlumency exercises beforehand. He rolled over and tried to shut out the rosy bright morning sun, but renewed sleep eluded him. Around him, the soft snores of the other four Gryffindors continued without interruption and he wished he were one of them.
Giving up sleep as a lost cause, he reached over and put on his glasses and took a look again at his career tour options. Feeling gloomily that he had better choose as many as he could in view of Fudge’s animosity, he decided he’d go for the Gringotts tour and the St. Mungo’s tour as well as the one of the Ministry.
If the Ministry wouldn’t take him, he supposed vaguely that being a curse-breaker might not be too bad, and for the first time, he actively wondered what it would be like to travel across the world. Egypt, South America, China, Africa, Turkey, Australia, even America. It was amazing, really, how many places Gringotts had branches. He wondered too what Uncle Vernon would say if he knew Harry was thinking of applying to work in a bank. Surprised, no doubt. At least until he realized who ran the bank. The thought of Uncle Vernon having to deal with goblins in the bank kept Harry amused for an entire minute.
St. Mungo’s was a less likely a choice. For one thing, his aptitude for Potions and Herbology, both of which were key subjects in healing, was not the greatest. But, he thought, Neville could use some support, and Harry had an inkling that Neville might need watching over if he went near the closed ward where his mind-damaged parents resided.
He returned to the Ministry’s packet, which was the largest and fanciest of all. He checked off the tour for the aurors’ department and then scanned the remaining list for other interesting departments. There was the Quidditch department; but if he worked in quidditch he’d rather play than simply arrange games. There was Muggle Relations; but Harry had had enough of Muggle relations to last his entire life. Definitely not that one. Near the end of the list was the Department of Mysteries. With a shiver, Harry by-passed that one at first. Then he looked at it again. Requirements: Top NEWTs in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, and Transfiguration. Preferred but not required: Arithmancy or Runes.
He closed his eyes and flashes came back. He had visited the place in his dreams for nearly a year in his fifth year. He had led Hermione and Ron and Ginny and Neville and Luna into that terrible trap, and Sirius had been killed. The thought of returning to Sirius’ death place turned his stomach. On the other hand, his mind whispered, there were the voices beyond the veil. A puzzle to be solved. And what else might be there that could help him someday defeat Voldemort?
With a shaking hand, he checked off the box beside the Department of Mysteries as his second tour choice for the Ministry (two departments in one tour being the limit) and signed his Tour Form firmly and clearly. The worst that could happen, after all, was Voldemort would kill him first and he wouldn’t need to worry about a career at all.
Harry rose and washed and was downstairs drinking his second cup of coffee and halfway through the latest edition of The Quibbler by the time Ron and Hermione arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast.
Hermione favored him with a sharp look and said, “I hope you slept last night.”
“I slept fine,” he said shortly. “Look at this, they’re on about Fudge and the goblins again,” he added. Ron peered over his shoulder at the article, which was entitled, Renewed Rumors of Secret Anti-Goblin Legislation. The subhead read: Fudge and Gringotts, Ministry Takeover in the Works?
“That is such rubbish,” Ron said. “I dunno why you take that rag. I mean, the other main article is about Heliopaths on the rampage.” Harry grinned at Ron.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Except it wasn’t rubbish when it printed the truth about Voldemort coming back. Maybe this bit about Fudge isn’t as wild as you’d think. Knowing Fudge,” he added darkly, “I wouldn’t be surprised at all. I bet he’d charge a VAT on every account that would go directly into his pockets if he could.”
“Look who it’s written by,” Hermione said. “Rita Skeeter!” Harry looked closer again.
“Well, maybe Ron is right, then.” He added curiously, “I thought she wasn’t working anymore.”
“Her one year off writing was up,” Hermione answered. “I couldn’t prevent her from making a living forever. But guess what? Luna told me her Dad is actually paying Rita.”
“Now there’s a marriage made in scandal heaven,” Ron joked.
“Don’t laugh,” Hermione said. But her eyes were actually shining with hilarity. “Apparently Mr. Lovegood is dating Rita and poor Luna spent most of her summer hiding from Rita’s questions about you, Harry.” Harry nearly spit out his coffee.
“Who would date her? Is he blind or something? She’s the worst cow I’ve ever met. Worse than Millicent Bulstrode.”
Ron guffawed and said, “Well, at least you’re in a good mood, and I’ve got something that’ll put you in a better one.” He looked at Harry and said with another grin, “No, not girls, but close. I’ve booked the Quidditch pitch and we’ll get in a good practice today to make up for all the ones we missed. The first game’ll be here before you know it and we’ve missed more practices than we’ve had because of the ruddy weather.”
“What about Hogsmeade?” Harry asked. Ron shrugged.
“We can go later. If you need anything, you can just give me the money and I’ll get it for you.” Harry smiled at Ron and said nothing, but he couldn't help thinking how lucky he was to have such friends.
They ran through their quidditch moves over and over until the team finally began to work together with real precision. Ron had evolved into a really fine Keeper and it was fun to watch Ginny trying to get past his defenses. It was even more fun to hum Weasly is Our King when the Slytherins came by to watch. Harry had to hang on hard to his broom to keep from falling off laughing when a bludger narrowly missed Crabbe's head. He came to himself quickly when the Snitch flew erratically by and nearly lost his temper altogether when Draco Malfoy reached out and tried to grab it. The tail of Harry's Firebolt missed Malfoy's face by millimetres as Harry grabbed the Snitch right out of the Slytherin's grasp.
"Just giving you a bit of real practice," Malfoy said malevolently. "Just try to stay on that broom for the game. Or are you going to fall off and have a seizure in the middle of it?"
Harry considered borrowing the bat and sending a bludger straight at Malfoy, but he managed to restrain himself and said sweetly, "Don't worry. Voldemort will have to come and catch the Snitch himself to keep me from getting it this year." Crabbe and Goyle paled at the mention of Voldemort's name.
"That's the stupidest thing you can do, Potter," Goyle said, "saying the Dark Lord's name. He can hear you a thousand miles away."
"Can he?" Harry answered. "Well, guess what Gregory," --he took extra pleasure in rolling the R's in goyle's name just like McGonagall would do when she was angry -- "I've got my own way of knowing what Voldemort is up to. I'd think twice if I were you, before I made the promise to him to be a Death Eater. The Dark Mark makes you his slave for life. But maybe that's just up your alley, bullying and killing."
He flew up and was about to go off when another thought occured to him. He dove back and halted in mid-air next to Goyle and added, "I'd remember Nott if I were you. Voldemort doesn't care who you are. If you get in his way, he'll kill you. Even if you're a Death Eater yourself." Neither Crabbe nor Goyle seemed moved by that. They merely scowled at him and Goyle reached out a huge fist toward Harry, but missed as Harry floated away. It was the look on Malfoy's face though, that gave Harrry pause. The pale eyes had narrowed and he seemed tense and pale.
"Come on," Ron yelled. "Don't waste time on that lot." Harry, however, zoomed back and only Malfoy was still there, as Crabbe and Goyle had gotten up and started back for the Castle. Crabbe called, "Draco, let's go. Your date'll be waiting."
"Speaking of your date," Harry said, as he flew between Malfoy and the path back to the Castle, "I'd better not hear you've done anything rude to Parvati."
Malfoy stared at him and said, "Jealous are you, Potter? You had your chance to date her and you blew it. You had your chance to date Cho Chang and you blew that. You couldn't even keep Weasley's sister."
"This isn't about me," Harry answered. "But if you manhandle a Gryffindor girl, you'll pay."
"Don't worry," Malfoy answered smoothly. "I don't have to manhandle any girl. Unlike you, I know just how to handle them, and it isn't by paying attention to different girl while you're in the middle of a date with the first." The Slytherin smiled and deliberately smoothed his blond hair and tugged his robes straight before ducking under Harry's broom to follow his companions to the Castle.
***
Someday, Potter would get his comeuppance. But not before he served his purpose. The git, Draco thought contemptuously, was so noble, such a hero, that when the time came, he would be pitifully easy to manipulate. He smiled and smoothed his hair, and tugged his clothes straight before following Goyle and Crabbe back into the Castle. He was looking forward to his date with Parvati more than he had anything lately. It would be nice to take out such a pretty, no almost beautiful girl; maybe even the prettiest in their year. And she had brains.
Compared to Pansy, Parvati was a genius. Well, compared to Pansy, almost anyone was a genius. Pansy had plenty of good traits: she was a pure-blood, she was compliant, and she worshipped Draco, no doubt about it. But after a few minutes, you could scream with boredom.
Parvati was waiting just where he'd asked her to. He smiled again and ignored Crabbe's frantic attempts to find out where he was going. That was another good thing about today's date. Madam Puddifoot's was bound to be a Crabbe and Goyle free zone. They were watching him, he knew. Reporting back on him, he suspected.
Fortunately, they were even more stupid than Pansy, and that was saying something. He had to wonder on occasion why the Sorting Hat should have put so many cretins in Slytherin House for his year. Whatever you could say about Crabbe and Goyle, subtle they weren't. They were capable of a low cunning, maybe, but not much more.
The subject of NEWTs kept them occupied for most of the journey to Hogsmeade and by the time they were approaching Madam Puddifoot's, Parvati had agreed to exchange a copy of her notes in Transfiguration for his notes in Potions.
"Coffee?" he said smilingly, pausing before the door to Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, "or would you prefer butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?" She hesitated and then with a determined jut of her chin and an enchanting, reckless smile, said, "Coffee, thank you."
He opened the door and for the very first time in seven years found something to appreciate in the sheer bullheaded courage of a Gryffindor.
The tea shop was decorated with the most nauseating stuff; but girls seemed to like it. He preferred the dark comforts of the Slytherin common room or the elegant perfection of his own home. But the thought of his home and those presently occupying it was not safe except in the farthest corners of his mind in the darkest hours of the night.
He ordered coffee and was careful not to reach for her hand too soon. Instead, he surveyed the other occupants with interest, even satisfaction. The Weasley b** itch was in a corner with Dean Thomas. He considered her coldly and thought, what a pity she had to be a Weasley and so bad-tempered. She was a pure blood, but like the rest of her family, she was remarkably undiscriminating about the company she kept.
Ernie Macmillan was also there with Susan Bones and there were quite a few sixth years he didn't know. He had just started to ask Parvati what career tours she was taking when the door opened and the bell tinkled again. He nearly cursed out loud. It was Crabbe and Goyle.
Crabbe had brought Pansy and Goyle had brought Millicent Bulstrode. He turned his back to them and reached out for Parvati's hand. He looked at her very seriously and said, "One kiss. Just one, first, to get it out of the way. And then we can relax and talk normally, okay?"
Her dark eyes opened very wide and she nodded. He leaned over and kissed her very lightly, just a fleeting contact, and sat back to enjoy the look of excitement on her face. It gave him an excuse to ignore his annoying shadows and ask, "So, what career are you thinking of?"
Parvati had opened her mouth to answer, but Pansy had stood up and screeched: "You'd better find a good one duckie, because Mr. Pure-blood Malfoy won't be marrying a half-blood like you and supporting you on all his gold!"
Parvati flushed in humiliation and fury and picked up her coffee, no doubt intending to throw it. Draco grabbed her hand and said clearly and coldly, "I certainly won't be marrying a stupid cow like you, Pansy." He turned back to Parvati and stood up, throwing some sickles on the table for their drinks.
"Come on," he said tugging at her hand, "the tone of this place has become quite plebian lately. It's only too bad we're not near London. I could show you some really nice places there. Places that a girl of your quality would enjoy." He walked out enjoying the stunned gawps of his cronies and delighting in the small bit of rebellion. No one, after all, would think wanting a decent date with a pretty girl was disloyal.
***
Hermione squeezed her way into the farthest corner at the Three Broomsticks and waited impatiently for Ron to bring their butterbeers. The tavern was jammed full of students, a few teachers, and some rather odd characters that she could have sworn were Muggles if they'd been anywhere else. A couple of the men sitting by the bar were dressed in jeans and workshirts and workboots, and one of them even wore a yellow hard hat. If they were Muggles, she thought, where could they have come from? However, one of them seemed quite friendly with Madam Rosmerta, calling her Rosie and toasting her with each shot of firewhiskey. Ron fought his way through the crowds at last and she tugged at him to sit closer. He grinned happily and slung an arm around her shoulder.
"Alone at last," he intoned. She giggled and then gave him her most severe look.
"Idiot!" she said. She took a good sip of her butterbeer, savoring the warmth after the chilly fall wind outside, and swept the room with as casual a look as she could. No one unfriendly was too near, and the noise level in the room was such that no one was likely to overhear their conversation.
She relaxed and said softly in Ron's ear, "What are we going to do about Harry?"
He pulled away just a little to look at her and answered, "Nothing. There's not much we can do except keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't leave us behind when he goes off to challenge You Know Who."
"You don't really think he will?" she asked, though she knew the answer as well as he did.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "He'll feel he has to. You can see it. It builds up in him, the certainty that he has to, and then something happens, or Dumbledore talks some sense into him, and he puts the thought aside for a bit. But sooner or later," he added broodingly, "Something big enough and horrible enough will happen and he'll just react."
She shivered. She had seen it. And last night's outburst had been truly revealing. And frightening, as she could see clearly that Ron was right. When the time came, Harry would almost certainly try to go off on his own. It was only a small step from deciding he couldn't date to deciding he couldn't even have friends.
"I think we should try to talk to him," she said.
"I thought of that," Ron answered. "He'll change the subject or just pick a fight so he can get out of it. And I swear the worst thing about him having all those Occlumency lessons is he seems to be able to tell what we're up to even when we don't say. It's dead annoying really."
"What about the career tours?" Hermione asked. "Did he say if he's picked his?"
"No," Ron answered. He frowned and took a swallow of his butterbeer and then another. "But I saw his form," he added. "He's signed up for the Ministry and Gringotts and St. Mungo's."
"St. Mungo's?" she echoed. "That's not for himself. He has no interest in that. It must be because of Neville," she said broodingly. "I wonder if he knows something about Neville that we don't?" Ron didn't answer. She looked up and saw him watching her. "What? What do you think?"
He smiled and said, "I like to watch you thinking Hermione. You think good enough for all of us."
She crossed her arms and waited. "All right, keep your shirt on," he answered, "I think you're right."
"Now there's a first," she answered.
"Oh, come on, Hermione," he said, "I don't disagree with you all the time."
She huffed and continued, "And what about the Ministry. I suppose he's taking the tour of the auror department."
He nodded. "And the Department of Mysteries if you can believe that. I wouldn't have thought he'd go near that place ever again. What would he do there? Sweep the dust off the shelves of the Hall of Prophecy?"
She stared at him, arrested. What would he do? What could he be up to? "I think," she said slowly, "that we'd better sign up for the same tours he's taking."
"I thought you had other ones in mind?" Ron asked.
"Yes," she answered, "but you don't have to go on a tour to apply for a job. The tours are informational, really. So we know more about the job and the application process." Hermione thought uneasily and said, "I think that we had better sign up for the same ones as he does. I think he's up to something. At least, with the Department of Mysteries. Unless," she added softly, "going back there is just his way of facing down something he's afraid of."
Madam Rosmerta squeezed over to their corner with refills just when they needed them. "Where's your friend?" she asked. "I always like to see our Harry come in. Reminds me of his Dad and his crowd, the three of you do."
Hermione smiled and said, "I think he fancied a bit of time alone, you know." She looked curiously at the men in the work clothes and asked, "Who are those men there, in the Muggle clothes?"
"Muggles," was Madam Rosmerta's answer.
"In Hogsmeade?" Ron asked. Hermione was just as astonished. Hogsmeade was the only all-wizard village in Britain. Muggles never came there.
"Yes," Madam Rosmerta replied. "Nice gentlemen they are. They work on the other side of the Forest. Can you believe they've been walking through it every day or so to come for a drink or two?"
"You're joking," Ron blurted out. "I mean, they're lucky they haven't been bitten by a werewolf or kicked to death by the centaurs. Or worse." Hermione knew he was thinking of the giant spiders that lived in the heart of the forest. And then there was Grawp, Hagrid's "little" brother, a full giant who only stood about sixteen feet tall.
"It's funny, though," Rosmerta said, "Seems like the creatures in the forest can tell they're Muggles. They haven't seen anything strange there. I think they all avoid them because they're truly foreigners."
"But what are they doing around here?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I think they're building something. A house, maybe? On the other side, like I said." She leaned over and whispered. "They were quite funny. They keep wanting to take pictures of the "ruins," and they can't figure out where the school is that you all come from." She chuckled merrily. Hermione, however, frowned in thought. The Muggles, she knew, would simply see a bunch of ruins and a sign saying, Danger. Keep Out, whenever they looked at the Castle. What she couldn't imagine was who would be building a house way up here in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.
"Strange," she said, more to herself than to Ron. "Very, very strange."
***
Ron and Hermione came back from Hogsmeade looking perfectly happy. Ron slapped a bottle of butterbeer down on the table beside Harry's chair and Hermione brought out a package with all of Harry's favorites from Honeydukes, including the most enormous bar of chocolate he had ever seen. He summoned up a smile and smothered his envy of their freedom and took a swallow of the butterbeer to show them he was all right.
Hermione plunked herself down on the rug next to his chair and told him all about the Muggles visiting Hogsmeade. "It's terribly odd, isn't it?" she ended.
"Odd's not strong enough Hermione," Harry answered. "It's...bizarre, astounding. I dunno," he said. "What do you suppose they're really doing? You don't think they're really building a house? Near the Forest? I didn't even think anyone lived on the other side."
"Well...why not?" Hermione said. "It does stop somewhere. And wherever it stops is outside of Hogwarts grounds or Hogsmeade, so it's not enchanted."
"Do you think they were really Muggles?" Harry asked dubiously. He wished he had been there to see them. Here he was, having sat in and missed the trip and no Voldemort had appeared, no Death Eaters, only a new puzzle.
They went down to dinner for the yearly Halloween feast. The decorations were marvellous as usual. Jack o'lanterns floated in the air with candles inside instead of the regular plain candles floating. Platters of dipped apples, sweets, and food of every kind tempted even the pickiest palate. And in the background, a troupe of singers performed, though not as well as the Weird Sisters, whom Harry had thought quite good when they played at the Yule Ball fourth year. Harry loaded up his plate and ate hungrily, but almost automatically, as he puzzled over the strange appearance of the Muggles at the Three Broomsticks. He looked around to see if Hagrid had come, but his seat at the head table was vacant. Harry jabbed Ron to get his attention away from his food.
"Where do you suppose Hagrid's got to? I went to visit him this afternoon, but he was gone. And he hasn't come back for the feast."
Ron looked up and shrugged. He swallowed a large bite of steak with difficulty and said, "I dunno. Order business, d'you suppose?"
"He was here earlier," Hermione said. "I saw him this morning, when they were decorating. He brought in that huge pumpkin." She pointed to the gigantic one that rested on the head table and partially obscured his view of Dumbledore. Harry could see by its size that Hagrid must have given it a bit of "encouragement" to make it grow so large.
"It's not like him to miss the feat, that's all." Harry scanned the room again and then was sorry he had. Ginny was sitting at the other end of the table with Dean and Dean had reached over to take her hand. She didn't pull her hand away. Not quickly enough, anyway, and Harry was surprised at the feeling that swept through him. He looked away and poked at his treacle tart, pretending a great interest in it buttery sauce.
Harry glanced at the head table. Snape was sitting there looking thoroughly bored, Professor McGonagall was chatting with Professor Sprout, and even Trelawney had descended from her Tower to sample the delights of the feast. Harry couldn't help thinking that at a Muggle party, Trelawney would have been a resounding success reading people's palms and telling them how many mistfortunes they were about to undergo. The closest Harry had ever come to liking her was when she had read Harry's palm in a class observed by Dolores Umbridge and announced that he would live to a ripe old age and have twelve children.
Pity that was the one and only time she hadn't actually predicted his death at a young age. It would have been easy to recall all the times she'd been wrong if it weren't for the one time she'd been absolutely right. The Dark Lord had risen more powerful and terrible than he ever was, just as she had predicted. If that had been true, how likely was it that her first real prophecy would also be true?
He glanced down the table again and saw that Ginny was still chatting cheerfully with Dean. She looked up suddenly, as though she felt him watching, and waved as naturally and apparently indifferently as though they were merely superficial friends: she the younger sister of his best friend; he, the older brother's friend, her occasional confidant, but nothing more. He nodded as casually as she and turned back to the conversation at the table, which was all about Pansy Parkinson's temper tantrum in Madam Puddifoot's.
He barely listened however, as there were hardly any topics less interesting than Pansy Parkinson or Madam Puddifoot's. Harry was just thinking that it might be a good time to slip out of the feast when a great boom, boom, boom, sounded at the edge of the Hall. Then he realized that someone was beating on the doors of the Castle. Everyone looked up and the boom, boom, boom, sounded again. Expecting to hear either splintering wood from the door being knocked down or the sound of a spell blasting it, Harry had risen and drawn his wand. He gawped like everyone else in astonishment when he realized that something, no, someone had entered and was thumping into the Hall with a tread heavier than two elephants.
Stomping into the Hall was Grawp the giant. "Hagger!" he boomed. "Hagger!" The sixteen-foot giant bent his head down and peered at the seated students as though they were nothing but ants. As he passed, students had begun to peel away from the tables screaming, a very bad idea, as it made him stamp in confusion and temper.
"Hagger!" he roared again. The he stooped down and swiped at the table where Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting and said, "HermyHarry!" The screaming increased until Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "Silence!" in a voice like a trumpet, and the Hall became profoundly still.
"Don't move," Dumbledore ordered, but Harry, for the first time in his life ignored a direct command from the headmaster.
He jumped on the table and said, "Grawp. What is it? Where's Hagrid?" Dumbledore had come striding down the aisle between the tables, but he stopped in apparent astonishment when Harry called the giant by name.
Hermione stood up and tremblingly added, "It's Hermy, Grawp. Tell us about Hagrid."
Grawp bent over and for a moment Harry feared he would knock them over. Then the giant bellowed again, "You come, HarryHermy. Help Hagger!"
Harry didn't have to think twice. "We're coming," he shouted up at Grawp and he jumped down from the table and ran to the edge of the Hall, waving for Grawp to follow. Dumbledore had followed unbelieveably quickly for a man of one hundred fifty seven.
"What is this?" he asked. "Where are you going?"
"We have to help Hagrid," Harry said. "He's in trouble." Grawp had stopped and looked like he was going to bellow again. Ron and Hermione had come to join him and Harry saw with astonishment that Dumbledore was going to try to stop him.
"You will not rush off like this," Dumbledore said. "This may be a trap."
"You don't understand," Harry answered hurriedly. "This is Grawp. He's Hagrid's brother. Hagrid is in trouble, isn't he Grawp?" Harry turned to look up at Grawp at that and he was relieved when the giant said, "Harry helps Hagger. HermyHarry come now."
"It's not a trap," Harry said to Dumbledore. "Nobody can manipulate a giant. And I don't think its Voldemort either. I'm sure it's not."
"You will stay here," Dumbledore repeated. "I will go."
"But Professor," Hermione said, "Grawp knows us. We have to go."
Harry nodded and said to Grawp, "Show us. Where is Hagrid?" Grawp stomped back out of the Hall and out of the Castle doors. Harry had to run to keep up with the giant's huge strides and Hermione and Ron were soon panting alongside them. Dumbledore kept up, though how, Harry couldn't imagine. From the look on the Headmaster's face, Harry was afraid he was in for a lecture once they got Hagrid out of trouble, whatever it was. He wouldn't mind that though, as long as they did get Hagrid out of trouble.
Harry had expected Grawp to lead them far into the Forest. He had assumed that the centaurs had attacked him, perhaps. Or maybe the acromantulas had grown tired of Aragog's edict preventing attack against Hagrid. But they were barely past the Quidditch field when Grawp pointed up and shook his fist in the air at a huge flying shadow.
"Hagger!" Grawp roared again. The flying shadow's outlines became clear in the light shining out of the Castle's many windows. A black shape with a wingspread of at least twenty feet and from tip to tail, at least forty, perhaps fifty feet long. It was bigger even than the basilisk had been. Its triangular head weaved from side to side as its great amber eyes seemed to be seeking something and from its taloned feet something dangled in the air. It was Hagrid.
"My god," Ron breathed. "That's about the biggest dragon I've ever seen in my life!" Grawp roared again and the dragon answered with a louder trumpeting call. It circled around and breathed a spout of fire at the bellowing giant, who was making swinging motions and trying to leap at the dragon. When Grawp landed, the ground shook, and the spout of fire passed by him, but lit up a swath of grass near the pitch.
Dumbledore hastily put out the fire and bellowed at Harry, "Did you know about that, too?"
Harry shook his head. He was utterly terrified that the dragon would either drop Hagird to his death or simply barbecue him. The previous spout of flame had missed him by inches. Up in the air, Hagrid was roaring something, too, but with all the noise Grawp and the dragon made, it was impossible to distinguish the words.
Harry turned to Ron and said, "Brooms. It’s the only way. Summon them, quickly." Ron simply nodded, and they shouted, "Accio, Firebolt," and "Acio, Cleanweep," almost simultaneously. For one more terrible second, they waited. Then the brooms appeared and hovered before them, just as Harry's had on that day three years before when he had summoned his to fight the Horntail in the Triwizard contest.
Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder, and said, "Be careful!" Harry nodded and kicked off and Ron followed. They swept up into the air and dove at the dragon as if it were an opposing quidditch player. The dragon hissed at them and Hagrid was still bellowing...something that sounded like bird to Harry. Astonishingly, the dragon held his fire and his great amber eye seemed to stare with contempt at Harry as if the dragon knew all his tricks and was just waiting for him go wrong.
Ron shouted at him, "Duck and dive!" as the dragon flew closer to Harry. Its great eye was still on him and Harry had the oddest sensation, as if he were looking at an enormous and highly intelligent serpent.
The dragon hissed again, "Ssilly humanss. Flying with dragonss."
Harry gawked at it and braked in his astonishment. "Are you talking? To me?" he asked.
"Of coursse, I am talking, human boy," the dragon answered. "Only humans are usssually too sstupid to understand."
"Put Hagrid down," Harry said firmly, "or we shall have to use our wands on you." The dragon hissed again, only this time the hiss had no words and sounded in Harry's mind oddly like a laugh.
"Hagrid likes flying," the dragon answered.
"Harry!" Hagrid yelled. "Blimey, Harry! Isn't it won'erful! Look at 'im, he's fantastic. He's beau'iful, i'nt he?" Harry looked at Hagrid and saw that his face was shining with excitement and pleasure.
"Are you crazy?" Ron screamed. He had his wand out and was about to cast a spell.
"Don't!" Harry yelled at him. "The dragon won't hurt him." He turned back to the dragon and looked it in the eye again.
"Please put Hagrid down now," he said as politely as he could. "They don't understand that you won't hurt him. Especially Grawp. Grawp's Hagrid's brother. The giant. He thinks you're going to hurt Hagrid."
"Well, course he won't hurt me," Hagrid bellowed. "Go, Grawpy!" Hagrid yelled. He waved his hands in a shooing motion, but Grawp took it to mean that Hagrid was in more trouble and he leapt again, like a ball player trying to score a goal over a whole team's heads. One gigantic fist almost touched the dragon's tail. Later, Harry would be even more astonished at the recollection of how high the giant had jumped than he was then.
"Put Hagrid down," Harry said once more. "He can talk to you another day." The dragon looked at Harry with his amber eye and said, "Hagrid undersstandss me not, wizzard boy. You are a clevver wizzard boy to sspeak dragon-tongue. I will put him down if you give your word to come sspeak to me ssoon. It iss dull here with no otherss of my kind."
"Right," Harry said. "I promise."
"I hope you keep your promisses, wizard boy," the dragon answered. “We dragonss don't like thosse that break their promisess."
Harry nodded and dove down toward the ground again. The dragon dove down and dropped Hagrid to the ground before sweeping up with one great pull of his wings. The draft they made nearly knocked Ron off his broom, it was so great. Then the dragon flew off and Grawp seized Hagrid and lifted him into the air. It seemed for a moment that Grawp would do the damage the dragon had not.
But Hagrid yelled, "Put me down Grawpy!" and the giant dropped Hagrid abruptly, so that he staggered and fell over. Without a word of good-by, Grawp stomped back into the Forest.
Hagrid, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He rolled back up and said, "Did yeh see 'im? Did yeh?"
Professor Dumbledore, however, was anything but ecstatic."Come with me," Dumbledore said, "all of you."
Harry exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. They were in trouble now. Big trouble. Harry couldn't remember when Dumbledore had ever spoken to him like that. Hagrid, too, had realized something was amiss. His excitement was leaking out of him, and his bearded face was falling more and more with every stride they took toward the Castle and the Headmaster's office.
They entered the Castle behind Dumbledore. Every eye followed them as they strode through the Great Hall and on up toward Dumbledore's office. A few cheers broke out when they saw them all return safely, but they died away quite quickly into a puzzled kind of rumbling as they followed the Headmaster in a gloomy procession.
Harry was sure that he was finally going to be expelled, and this time he thought miserably, he actually deserved it. He had openly defied Dumbledore's explicit orders. He had run into trouble without stopping to think of the consequences, and he had drawn Ron and Hermione into it with him. The reached the entrance to the moving circular staircase that led to the Headmaster's office. "Peppermint Humbug," the elderly wizard said.
But there was nothing humorous in his voice. No tone of amusement underlay his words. They were stern and cold and warned of consequences to come. Dumbledore strode around to his desk and sat, but he did not invite them to sit.
"Explain," he said. And the one word was more awful than all the abuse that Snape might have heaped on him. Harry opened his mouth and then shut it. He couldn't recall now whether he had actively promised Hagrid he would never tell Dumbledore about Grawp. Yet he never had. He had kept this thing, this terribly important thing, concealed from the Headmaster for nearly two years, as Hagrid had. Had Dumbledore known? Harry wondered. How could he not have, he thought rebelliously. He seemed to know everything else. Why not this?
"It's Norbert," Hagrid answered clearing up one mystery. Harry stared at him in astonishment, as did Ron and Hermione. "He came back!" Hagrid said. He had started to get happy again as he added, "He remembered me, too!"
Dumbledore did not look excited. He clasped his hands together and asked, "How long have you known he was back?"
"O'ny tonigh'," Hagrid answered. He seemed to have realized that he was not going to be forgiven this time. He had paled and started to sweat a bit. "Professor Dumbledore," he said, "yeh can' punish Harry and Ron and Hermione fer this. They knew nothin' of it. I swear."
"And the giant?" Dumbledore asked. "Grawp, I believe is his name."
"My brother," Hagrid answered.
"He's been here, how long, Hagrid? Two years? Since you came back from the mission to the giants? And you never once told me that you had a giant living in the Forest?"
Hagrid stopped then and seemed to be trying to think of an answer. "I had ter...I had ter civilize 'im like," he said hoarsely. "I couldn' show 'im to yeh until I could show yeh he was fit to be here."
"But Harry knew," Dumbledore answered. "And Hermione and Ron. They could know. And none of them saw fit to tell me either?" Dumbledore looked at them again and they all simply looked back. Harry felt, at first, a kind of shame. He ought to have said something. He had seen how dangerous Grawp might be first hand, even if he did not intend to be so. He had said nothing, when unsuspecting people, other students, might have been harmed. He had let his affection for Hagrid sway his judgment. He looked down and said nothing. None of the others seemed to feel they could say anything either.
Hagrid, however, said hoarsely, "I know I shoulda tol' yeh. But yeh can' punish them. I made 'em promise not ter tell."
"Ron and Hermione are headboy and headgirl. They are supposed to have judgment. They are supposed be responsible. And Harry, too, is a seventh year. They are all adults, nearly." Dumbledore stared at Harry and Harry could feel his gaze even though he had his eyes still on the floor.
He looked up and met the Headmaster's eyes as he said, "You defied me in front of the entire school. If you were Headmaster, what would you do?" he asked quite calmly, and this was worse than if Dumbledore had raised his voice and yelled as perhaps Mrs. Weasley would yell in such a moment. Something about this calm sparked his anger, and an older anger came back to him. That feeling of betrayal and desertion he had felt all year, fifth year.
"You were gone," Harry answered, "And Hagrid only told us because he knew Umbridge would throw him out. And we forgot afterwards. At least I did." He stared at Dumbledore and added, "I might not have told you anyway, though. You went out of your way not to talk to me, didn't you, then?"
Dumbledore did not look away, nor did he look apologetic for his past actions. "That was then," he answered. "It has been two years. It never occurred to you once, any of you, in two years, that someone ought to know?" Harry made no reply. There seemed to be none he could make. Nor did Ron, who looked utterly abashed.
"I don't think you're being quite fair," Hermione said. Her voice was a bit shaky and her face was pale. She knew, she must, that their places at Hogwarts must be in jeopardy, and all their hopes of work as aurors or in Hermione's case, whatever.
"No?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, sir," she said more firmly. "You yourself taught us to believe that not all giants are bad. You sent Hagrid to the giants. He brought Grawp back because Grawp is his brother. And he would have been killed by the others if he had stayed. And look how well he did. He came today and got us to help Hagrid. He learned enough English to communicate with us. He did no harm to anyone. That should be a success, if you truly mean what you say about rights for other races." Dumbledore's face softened ever so slightly.
"You have not answered my question," he said. "If you were Headmaster or Headmistress, what would you do?"
"I should excuse Ron and Hermione," Harry answered, "because they were simply trying to help rescue Hagrid. They didn't know he wasn't in trouble. And I should scold Hagrid for not telling me about Grawp, because if I had known, I might have helped. But I wouldn't punish Hagrid for bringing his brother to help save him, because anything else would be wrong and against nature."
"You haven't said anything about yourself," Dumbledore answered softly.
"No," Harry answered. He closed his eyes and opened them again and met the old man's gaze as he said, "I should be punished. I flouted your authority in front of everyone and led the others to do the same. That can't go unanswered. Not even if I did it for a good reason." With difficulty, Harry swallowed down his pride and anger and misery and thought, now is the time to force his hand. It's right, anyway. He looked again at Dumbledore and said as calmly as he could, "I should be expelled. No student should be permitted to openly defy the Headmaster.You've let me get away with breaking the rules quite often. But there's a limit. There has to be or you'll have chaos."
Dumbledore said nothing. He breathed as if he were very tired all of a sudden and very reluctant to do what Harry knew was right. A dry cough interrupted, though. "That's the problem with the young," said the cool dry voice of Phinneas Nigellus, Sirius' great-grandfather and the most disliked headmaster ever to run Hogwarts. "They are so absolute. They lack subtlety altogether. Of course, it's a particularly exaggerated flaw with you Gryffindors. It can take you a terribly long time to learn moderation. A hundred and seventy years and more." Dumbledore looked up at the portrait of the former headmaster and his blue eyes were twinkling again.
"Would you be lecturing me, Phinneas?" Dumbledore asked.
"You noticed?"
Dumbledore looked back at them and said softly, "Even the very old are guilty of foolish pride and sloppy thinking sometimes. You will, however, serve detention, if only for having kept this information from me when you should have known better." He paused then and a sudden gleam came into his eye.
"How did you get the dragon, Norbert, to put Hagrid down?"
Harry said with surprise, "Well, he was talking to me. I didn't know dragons were intelligent. I suppose it's in the books or something, but we never actually studied them, did we?" Dumbledore stared at him in astonishment and Ron and Hagrid gawped.
"Dragons don' talk!" Hagrid said. "They're clever beasties, no doubt abou' it. But talk? nah!"
"Oh, my!" Hermione said. "They're like snakes, serpents with wings. Harry understood him because he can understand all serpents."
"Ah," Dumbledore said, as though he saw something very interesting. "What did he say to you?" he asked Harry curiously.
"Erm, he said most wizards are rather stupid...and he made me promise to come and talk to him again...That's how I got him to put Hagrid down."
"You didn't!" Ron groaned.
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Harry snapped. "He wasn't going to hurt Hagrid, but Grawp didn't know that."
When they left, Hagrid nearly flattened Harry. "I can' thank yeh enough," he said tearily. Then he roared, "Nex' time, yeh stay outta trouble and do as Dumbledore says. Yeh coulda been hurt, even if Norbert weren' gonna do me harm."
Harry grinned at him. The relief he felt at not being expelled was enough to lighten him and ease his gloom.
"This is amazin', Harry," Hagrid said switching moods again. "We gotta plan a trip ter Norbert's den. I think I know where it is."
Hermione and Ron said, "No way! You're not!" Harry smiled at them and felt things were almost normal for once. Talking to dragons was just plain magic. And it sure beat fighting Voldmeort anyday. When they finally got back to the Gryffindor common room, Ginny was having a blazing row with Dean Thomas.
Dean caught sight of Harry coming in and went off furiously. "You are still stuck on him, aren't you? Look at you; trying to run off after him, with giants and Merlin knows what else was actually out there! What were you going to do, go and get your neck broken this time instead of your ankle?"
"That's ridiculous!" Ginny yelled. "I wanted to go help Hagrid because he's my friend! And don't you ever dare try to stop me like that again! You can just find some other nice sweet stay at home girl to date! I won't be told what to do by you!"
"Good," Dean said. "Have it that way. I thought you were smarter than that." He turned furiously to Harry and added, "You can have her, mate. I mean, what are you supposed to do? How do you keep a girl like that in line?"
Harry stopped dead and felt the heat rushing in his cheeks. Now what was he supposed to say? Then amusement took over and he said quite truthfully, "You don't. She's a Weasley. If you want to date a Weasley there's certain ground rules you've got know. They don't like being told anything by anybody. If they're going to do something it's impossible to stop them; all you can do is go along and hope to keep them from killing themselves. You have to be able to yell as loud as they do or louder because they've got tempers worse than any giant. And you have to have really quick reflexes, cause they're wicked fast with a wand."
Hermione had started to giggle and by the time Harry had finished, she was chrotling quite uncontrollably. Ron and Ginny, on the other hand, had both turned scarlet and Ginny had taken that preparatory breath that meant a very loud rant was on its way.
Harry waved his hand and said, "See what I mean. But other than those few flaws, they're the nicest people in the world. I'd apologize if I were you." Dean, however, did not apologize. He went up the spiral staircase muttering under his breath.
Harry glanced at Ginny and asked conversationally, "How did he keep you from following?"
"First he tried to stop me by holding me in place. Then after I gave him what for he hit me with an immobiliarbus spell. I am not, not, not, dating anyone who thinks he can tell me what to do that way!" She caught her breath and looked like she was getting ready for more.
Ron had given up on his annoyance though. He was grinning at Ginny's irritation now, although he made sure not to let her see it.
"Hagrid didn't really need any help anyway," Ron said. "It was just Grawp made a mistake and panicked."
"What can make a giant panic?" Neville asked wonderingly.
Harry grinned. "Norbert," he answered.
"Norbert?" Seamus asked. "Who's Norbert?"
"What," Harry said succinctly. "Norbert is Hagrid's dragon that he hatched from an egg. He's a Norwegian Ridgeback and about the biggest dragon you've ever seen."
"Dragon?" Parvati said. "There's a dragon here? On the loose?"
"Well, he's not that bad," Harry, answered.
"I don't know who's crazier," Lavender said faintly, "you thinking dragons aren't that bad or Ginny wanting to run after giants. You're a match made in heaven, I'd say." Harry turned beet red at that, even though he tried hard to laugh it off, but he wasn't half as scarlet as Ginny, who huffed and ran up the stairs after a single glance at him.
