• Previous
• I was Born to Run I was Born to Dream The Craziest Boy You've Ever Seen I Gotta Do It My Way Or No Way at All And I'm Here to Please I'm Even On My Knees Making Love to Whoever I Please I Gotta Do It My Way (reprise) Or No Way at All (reprise) And Then You Came Around Tried to Tie Me Down I Was Such a Clown You Had to Have It Your Way, I'm Saying No Way So Why Don't You Turn Me Loose? Turn Me Loose
• Next

Chapter 6 — And I’m Here to Please

You stare at the man in your doorway. "I’ve had a long day, Snape. Fuck off."

He puts his hand on the door and forces his way in. "Glib as ever, Potter. However, I have important matters to discuss. Let’s pretend for a moment that you actually are a diplomat."

It’s tempting to grab a pair of knuts out of your robes and tell him to go buy a personality, but it’s the kind of thing someone says when they don’t have a good comeback line. "Well, shut the damn door and let’s hear what so bloody important."

Snape pushes the door closed. You cast privacy wards. Whatever this is, it’s bound to be interesting. "So, who is handing out your marching orders tonight?"

"Oh, both of them are demanding information, but I am here to satisfy my own curiosity. What idiotic scheme are you attempting now?"

"You’ll have to be more specific, I’ve got a good deal of idiocy going on right now." You wonder if he’s heard about his little house at Spinner’s End yet.

"Very droll, Potter, but rather fitting. I am referring to your ridiculous claim to be a Dark Wizard."

"And how do you know it’s just a claim? Perhaps you’re only seconds away from a horrible death."

Snape scowls, which is to say that his expression remains unchanged. "If you were possessed, I either wouldn’t have the debt to you or it would be compelling me to try to free you. Since it is not and I can still sense it, I can only conclude that this is another one of your ridiculous lies."

Perhaps he still is only seconds away from a horrible death. You hadn’t counted on Snape’s life debt. "You’ve got it all figured out, why don’t you tell me why I’m doing it?"

"You seem to be laboring under the misconception that this wizard you are pretending to be is something of a threat to the Dark Lord. He is clearly surprised, but he is not cowering in a corner. You were better off when he believed you were simply a lucky child. Stupidity has always been your strong suit, but even this has me baffled."

Still, it could be a blessing in disguise. Pondering this for a moment you decide to go with "Look, whether you want to believe it or not, maintaining this façade will help protect me. You won’t believe me, but if he thinks I’m Chilotha he is underestimating me."

"Do you think this is a game?"

"No Snape, this is my life!"

"It won’t be for much longer if you continue down this path, charlatan!" He’s openly mocking you.

"I’ll give you one thing Snape. You’ve always been a bloody bastard to me. At least you’re consistent."

Snape’s face twists in a mask of annoyance. "Do you want to know what I think? You haven’t changed since you came through these doors six years ago. I think …"

You cut him off. "Alright, you’re a bit slow, so I’ll spell it out for you. Riddle knows there was Chilotha’s dead spirit, a pair of Horcruxes, and a caged Daemon there. He needs to think that Chilotha took me over and banished the Daemon he helped summon."

The cogs are spinning in the man’s mind. Obviously, Tom hadn’t thought it was worth mentioning and Snape’s other puppeteer hasn’t let him near the memory. "What are you saying, Potter?"

You motion over to the large trunk dominating one side of the wall. The bones and skin inside negate any expansion charms after a time. It’d ruined a pair of trunks already, so it was agreed to just buy a huge non-magical trunk. You throw open the lid and point to the skull. "If we line it with the skin, I was wondering what kind of potions could be brewed inside of it. If he believes that I’m his old buddy, he doesn’t think I’m capable of destroying a Daemon’s physical form."

"Impossible!"

"Wrong, very possible. I was thinking of storing it down in the Chamber next to the dead Basilisk, but that’s too far to go on a daily basis. I’m making the best of a bad situation. The mess on the third floor let the cat out of the bag. If it wasn’t for that debt, I’d have already shown you the door, but because of it, you’re probably the only person outside of my group I can trust to look out for me."

Snape looks pensive. From the grinding of his teeth, he’s looking for a way to save face and still accept this. "Miracles do happen. You may actually be capable of thought. Maybe if you had developed this ability sooner your Godfather might still be alive."

He’s stabbing out and trying to get under your skin. He picks the right topic. "You know one thing that’s always bothered me, Snape? I tipped you off in Umbridge’s office. The toad bitch had the time to march Hermione and me out the castle and into the forest for a confrontation with the Centaurs.   Then we eluded her and met up with the rest of my friends so we could fly from here in Scotland all the way to London on a bunch of Thestrals. Somehow, after all of that we still beat the Order to the Ministry building. Care to explain the delay, Snape?"

"You seem to think the Order is like some well-lubricated Muggle machine, Potter. It is not. I’ll not bore you with the details, but I was reasonably certain you were being tricked, which I’m surprised hasn’t happened more often. While I was doing this, I had no idea that you would be recklessly charging to confront a wizard far more powerful than yourself!" He practically spits that out at you.

You pick up several pieces of blank parchment. "Dobby!"

The excitable elf appears. "Master Harry Potter is wanting something from poor Dobby!"

"I want to give a sheet of parchment to Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Arthur Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. How fast could you do this? Less than an hour?"

He’s bouncing up and down. "Dobby will do this in thirty minutes!" He snatches the stack out of your hands and disappears leaving you wondering if you could start a pizza delivery service with enough elves.

You cock your head and look at Snape. "Thirty minutes! No wonder you’re just a glorified owl for passing misinformation between Riddle and Dumbledore."

"Potter, you really have no clue what it takes to be a spy. Do you?"

You put on what you hope is your best look of mock adoration and clap your hands together. "I never thought of it that way. You must be the bravest man I’ve ever met!"

"For someone playing the part of a diplomat, you are a poor actor."

"Bugger! You’re right. I couldn’t get it out with a straight face."   All faux humor leaves your face.   "Face the facts; you’re a loser, Snape. At least Pettigrew only has one master’s boots to lick. You get to do it for two men trying to kill each other. How pathetic is that? The worst part is you could have been somebody. You were strong enough to hold off that broom jinx back in first year. You’re supposedly good with a wand, but forgive me if I have my doubts. Even if you can’t teach Potions, you can certainly brew them. Where has it all gotten you? Nowhere!"

Snape isn’t happy. He’s practically foaming at the mouth. Ironic, given the fact that you know he’ll try to save your life. Just like the predator you’ve become you close in for the kill. "Dumbledore’s greatest fear is Riddle wins or I win and turn dark. Riddle’s fear is dying and being forgotten. Do you know what my fear is Snape? Waking up and realizing that I’ve become a pawn like you."

His reply is cut short by your door opening. In the hallway stands the centaur Firenze. You negate the privacy wards and he repeats. "My apologies for interrupting your conversation, but I am in need of your assistance Mr. Potter."

"That’s alright, Professor Snape is just leaving. Thank you for stopping by. I’m glad we had this talk."

"This isn’t over, Potter!"

"For tonight it is."

------

You follow the Divination Professor marveling at how he handles the stairs with relative ease. He leads you silently to the school entrance and outside before saying a word. "The heavens move in a chaotic pattern regarding you. They imply that your path is both distant and near at the same time. There is also great peril ahead of you."

"I pretty much could guess that, but I thank you just the same. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Firenze shakes his head and points towards Hagrid’s hut. "No, I believe I need you for this. I have tended their wounds as best I can. Do not worry; they are not in any danger. You would be wise to keep your troll out of the forest, at least until tempers cool."

You don’t want to, but you have to ask anyway. "What were they doing?"

"When I stumbled upon them, they were fleeing from five of my kin. I do not know all the details, but I believe a wager was involved between Hagrid and your friend. They may have attempted to ride a Centaur they encountered. That is what I hope they were attempting to do. At any rate, they were asking specifically for you and I feared they would start waking up students at this late hour. Also, I sensed that you might need to be somewhere else this evening. If you don’t mind, I think I shall continue my stargazing."

Up until now, you didn’t know what debauchery smelled like. Sure, there was a memorable occasion in Brazil where you’d been drunk and you’ve had enough experiences with the opposite sex to know what odors get left behind after a rather heated session. Until now, though, the smells have never combined into a bile-raising aroma-fest that you could’ve lived the rest of your life without experiencing. It smells like alcohol, blood, sweat, sex, and several other odors you choose not to try and identify.

"’Arry!" Hagrid screams. Hack blearily eyes you and belches, increasing the ratio of alcohol related stench in the room.

The two are in a state of disrepair. Hagrid is sitting in an oversized chair and your troll is simply sprawled on Hagrid’s table.

You could always just stun the pair of them, shut the door and walk away. Both are somewhat resistant to magic, but you’re no ordinary wizard. It’d be the simplest solution.

"Puny Harry! Hack have lots of fun!"

"Can this wait until morning? You guys look a little bruised."

"English trolls like Hack ... like Hack lots. Also like it rough." Hack rubs his jaw as you try really hard not to breathe, but your eyes tear up and you feel like your nose hairs are melting. Obviously, knowing Hack’s opinion of the female mountain trolls indigenous to this land must be important enough to get you out here in the middle of the night.

"Yeh woulda been proud o him," Hagrid slurs, "We came inta that camp and the females couldn’t a got enough o him! Don’t know if it’s the little wings or the Mrs Norris pelt but they was acting like they never seen a male before. Hell, I even got me a little action! That’s me, good old Hagrid, I’m here ta please!"

What exactly can you say to that? Other than during fourth year, Hagrid’s social life hadn’t really entered your thoughts, and now you hope you never, never, never have to think about it again! All you manage to come up with is, "That’s nice. Good to hear."

Hagrid laughs while Hack thumps on the countertop. Both of them chorus, "It’s all the same in the dark!" This prompts another round of raucous mirth from the two.

You look for a way to gracefully exit, something along the lines of blowing a hole in the wall. Stunning yourself is now an option, but being unconscious in this room might not be such a brilliant idea.

"Hell, I’d still be there wif ‘er and she’d still be screaming my name over and over again, if the Chieftain didn’t catch old Hack here with both his mate and his daughter at the same time! I reckon a fight was gonna break out at some time or ‘nother anyway. Good thing Grawpy came along or we might notta gotten out of there!"

Hack raises his head and stares at Hagrid. "She scream ‘Hawg t’rid.’ It troll speak. Means ‘wrong hole’."

Hagrid’s looks thoughtful and then he starts cackling like a madman. "Well I guess that explains a few things!"

Hack belches again and then joins him in laughter. It takes over a minute for the two to stop. You feel a headache joining your nausea.

When the dull roar quiets, you work up the courage to say, "Well that’s great. I think I’ll be going now."

"Wait, ‘Arry! Hack tell him about the Centaurs!"

"Hack want to lie in own bed, not talk about horseys that won’t let Hack ride. Always wanted pony…" Hack’s  mumbles and drifts off into a loud slobbering snore.

"Guess we shouldna ‘ave drunk that last barrel. Your troll’s a lightweight, ‘Arry!"

You never thought it would be possible; you actually wouldn’t mind being back there still arguing with Snape. "Okay … well, mind if he sleeps it off here, Hagrid?"

"If I could, I would, but I gotta class ta teach in the morning. Be kinda hard to teach over that snoring. You’re a great wizard, ‘Arry. Go on and get him back up to his room."

Sadly, being a "great wizard" isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. You decide not to point out that it was only five hours from the first class. Whoever is "lucky" enough to have him shouldn’t count on getting a quality lesson.

Some things, like magically resistant trolls, don’t levitate well. It’s an exhausting thirty minutes getting him back up to the visitor’s wing. You had to stop and reapply the Silencing charm twice along the way. It doesn’t exactly rank up there with banishing hordes of Dementors, slaying a giant serpent, or defeating a Daemon, but getting him back inside and up to his room is a feat unto itself.

Finally, you drop Hack’s massive frame onto his creaking oversized bed. Drawing a series of privacy wards and funneling a good bit of energy into them you hope they will last until the morning. You leave "sleeping beauty" to sleep it off. At least he had a good day, you suppose. It’s a good bet that you haven’t heard the last of the adventures of "Wrong Way" Rubeus and Hack the Troll Gigolo.

------

Morning comes all too soon. You stretch your jaguar body out and flick your tail in irritation. Being somewhat nocturnal, you’d rather just sleep in this morning. However there are things to do.   Nostrils flare detecting the sweet smell of perfume. It’s neither Luna’s nor Fleur’s, so that leaves only one candidate. You know her scent all too well.

One eye cracks open. Yep, it’s Granger. She always shows up at the worst possible times, doesn’t she? Her wand is in her hand and she’s staring at you with wide eyes. Her lips are moving, but no sound reaches your ears. Damn! That’s right you put a silencing ward over your bed in case Hack’s magic resistance negated your temporary wards.   Sometimes a Curse Breaker is too damn smart for his own good — another of Bill’s blasted golden rules.

Slinking off the bed, you growl in annoyance at her and resume human form; not really caring that she gets to see you full frontal.

"Good morning, Granger. Let me guess, you knocked, waited, and then got impatient and came in anyway."  

She nods, her eyes flicking down to see "Little Harry" in all his morning glory. "Breakfast … breakfast ends in … and then we have … When did …? How …?"

You casually Summon your clothes and dress yourself with magic. "Spend some time in the real world, Hermione. Learn magic from real people instead of just reading about it. Then again, maybe you and Ron were holding me back all along?"

She ignores the verbal barb. Your new abilities are too much of a distraction. "But that’s not possible! People don’t pick that up over a summer! It takes years of practice to be…."

Her voice trails off as your Silencing spell envelopes her. You step inside of it. "How about we go down to the Great Hall and you can shout it down there too! Can you keep your mouth shut about this, or do I get to practice my Memory charms before I eat? Fleur says I’m pretty good, but I might be off because I’m hungry."

If possible, her eyes get a little wider. "I’m sorry Harry. I was just shocked and put my foot in my mouth again." She drops her eyes refusing to look at you. "I promise I won’t say anything, but if you feel like you need to Obliviate me, I’ll understand."

It’s tempting. She’s throwing herself on your mercy, which is a telling sign of just how badly her spirit is crushed. There’s not a lot of fight left in her anymore. You notice she’s trembling slightly. Is she actually afraid of you? She is! A tiny part of you feels bad; naturally, the rest of you feels like transfiguring her into a female mountain troll and sending Hack a little morning pick-me-up.

You keep her waiting for a few seconds and lower your wand. "Keep the memories, Hermione, but keep your comments to yourself. I sleep as a jaguar because it keeps Riddle out of my mind. The reason I couldn’t learn Occlumency last year was my animal was trying to get out and the two don’t mesh. Using your books and processes, most anyone can become an Animagus, even someone like Wormtail. Some people on the other hand, are born to be one. That’s the difference, Hermione."

A flick of your wand negates the privacy ward and you call for Dobby.

The elf appears, "Yes, Mister Harry Potter!"

"Good morning. Can you grab a plate of breakfast for me and …do you want some breakfast Hermione? Okay, two plates of breakfast then." Knowing how she dislikes people using elves to facilitate their day, it was tempting to make her ask Dobby for her plate, but that would be just rubbing it in.

Monday morning, oh great more Snape.   Didn’t you get enough of the bastard last night?

------

Snape is slightly agitated during Defense. "Potter! I need to assess your skills in non-verbal magic. Join me here, now!"
 
Rolling your eyes, you pick up your wand and shuffle to him. A slight buzzing sound fills your ears, along with Snape’s whispered voice. Privacy charm? He leans forward as if giving you personal instructions. "Your first test as a Dark Wizard, Potter! Time to see if you have the commitment to carry out this ridiculous charade."

"Who’s giving the orders this morning?"

"The Dark Lord. As there is a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, the recollection of this will no doubt find its way back to him. Dodge to your right; my first spell will be aimed slightly to your left. Shield the next one and then call this a pointless exercise and walk out as you did before."

Pacing over to your position on the dueling platform, you raise your wand to the ready position.

"Begin."

Snape leads with a Bludgeoner aimed just as he stated. Sidestepping, you wordlessly conjure a standard shield and try your best to look bored. His silent Stunner fizzles on it.

Instead of quitting, you snap off a fast wordless Blinding curse, which catches Snape flatfooted. Okay, it’s probably petty, but years of his atrocious teaching methods allow you some leeway. Give the man a bit of credit, he doesn’t immediately remove it. He spins away to his right as your own Bludgeoner whizzes past him. Lone Thundercloud taught you several borderline spells. You use one of them. It’s a Stunner wrapped within a Vomiting hex. Snape collapses to the ground while removing your Blindness curse. Unconscious and convulsing, he retches.

A subtle flick of the wand moves his head so he doesn’t suffocate in his own breakfast and you walk towards the door enjoying the stunned looks of your former housemates and the Slytherins. You stop and stare at Draco Malfoy while Summoning your books. "When you wake him, tell him that this was a frivolous waste of my time."

Maybe being a dark wizard won’t be so bad after all?


------

"What are you smiling about?" Luna asks slyly. A quick check of the Marauder’s Map found her sitting out by the lake. Her thin blouse may have offered little protection from the cold, but the Warming charm she was using most certainly did.

Sitting down next to her, you chuckle. "I left Snape stunned and lying in a pool of vomit, so I’m in good spirits. Has your day been as fun?"

She adjusts the wand behind her ear and tilts her head at you, making her blue eyes seem unnaturally large. "Hagrid taught for about fifteen minutes, but suddenly dismissed the class saying he felt rather ill. I offered several suggestions from Daddy’s magazine, but the one involving three goat eyes seemed to make things worse for him. I hope this isn’t an outbreak of festering blortneds otherwise everyone will need to shave all their hair."

You play along and verify with the map that no one is nearby, "All of it?"

Smiling, she replies, "I’m afraid so. Unless you think we can convince everyone to eat lunch upside down? … What are you staring at? Do I have something on my teeth?"

Leaning closer, you kiss her. She responds, but tenses after a few seconds. Luna whispers in your ear after you move onto her tasty neck, "We’re out in the open, Harry."

"I checked the Map. There’s no one around."

She pushes you away and seems uncomfortable. "Still, someone could be watching from the castle."

It reminds you of Karina Machado and how she constantly worried little Chico would walk in on the two of you. Luna must be a behind closed doors type of person. You offer a compromise. "We could always go and see if the Room of Requirement is available?"

"Where do you think most of my class ran off to the moment Hagrid released us? Demelza Robins mentioned something about recreating a Mediterranean Beach and showing everyone something called boogie boarding. I opted not to go and may have made a few interesting comments. I just wanted to stay out and enjoy the fresh air here by the water."

You let it slide. She could just as easily have gone with the rest and sat by the water in the Room of Requirement and smelled the fresh air. "Come on, let’s go."

"You really want to go there?" Luna seems apprehensive.

"Depends, did Ginny go with them?" She nods. "Well, I’ve been meaning to catch up with her and catch up on old times, but for some strange reason she’s been avoiding me. Plus I feel like having a good swim."

------

A hastily scrawled piece of parchment on the door reads, "To open think ‘I want to join Demelza’s beach party’."

The door opens onto a wooden platform with steps leading down to a beach below. Two changing booths, one for each sex, are on the platform along with several racks of swimwear. "What do you think? Should I take a Speedo?"

Luna has a yellow bikini with pink polka dots in her hand and is eyeing it suspiciously. "A what? It’s not much bigger than the bottom to this one."

You chuckle and grab a regular set of green swim trunks and go into the changing room. A minute later, you’re waiting at the bottom of the stairs marveling at the room’s ability to recreate realistic sand. Your wand dangles from a conveniently available tie on the trunks. The beach stretches out for roughly a fifty meters in each direction and there’s another fifty to walk to the waterline. In addition to the fifth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors there are a few seventh years from your house that must have gotten out of their classes early.

One of them comes walking towards you. She fills out a black one piece rather nicely with a tall and curvy frame. The seventh year looks very uncomfortable, but it’s an improvement over the last time you saw her. Her injured arm is still a bit on the pale side.

"Hello Katie. I didn’t know you were back. Good to see you."

She kicks the sand with her foot. "They told me that you were the one that saved me from that cursed necklace and then saved me again while I was recovering in the infirmary. I don’t remember any of it, but you saved my life twice, thank you."

Smiling, you chuckle and try to downplay it. "It was nothing, really. Besides, I was already off the Quidditch team this year. I couldn’t let the our best Chaser go down too. Are you going to be ready for the opening match?"

Katie nods her head ignoring your offer of an easier topic, "I’m a little rusty, but I’ll be ready. Harry, it did mean something. I’m pretty sure I owe you one of those life debt things. I felt strange the moment you stepped in here, like my attention was suddenly drawn to you."

Life debts, despite having several, you’ve never done much research on them. If Snape experiences the same thing, that must drive him around the twist! Of course, it could explain a bit of Ginny’s previous obsession with you. Shrugging, you consider the people that you know owe you one. "They’re not all they’re cracked up to be — trust me on that one."

She looks a little flustered as Luna walks down the stairs. "Did the Heliopaths erase your memory?"

Now Katie looks even slightly more confused. "Beg pardon?"

"Well, Daddy assumes the attempt on your life was an attempt to silence you based on what you may have discovered about the Heliopaths that were thrown out of power along with the previous Minister. It’s in the newspaper."

Katie’s hazel eyes widen slowly in recognition. Outside of the DA last year, you doubt either of them had any contact with each other. "Oh, yes of course that article Leanne showed me … in the Quibbler, wasn’t it?"

"Yes, Daddy sent me an owl and would like me to interview you at some point. Any information you can provide connecting the Heliopaths to the Rotfang Conspiracy would be greatly appreciated."

"I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that."

Luna reaches down and scoops a handful of sand allowing it to flow through her fingers while she stares at it. "Well that’s the problem with magics that affect the memory. You might have. Tell me, have you felt more sexually aroused than normal since the attack?"

Katie’s draw drops. "Excuse me!?"

"It’s a symptom of Heliopath mind control." Luna continues and looks up to the false sky of the room. "I wonder if we could change the sky to any color we wished in here. I’m feeling more in a purple mood today."

You admire her ability to make her target squirm and appear so bloody random at the same time. Deciding to "rescue" Katie for a third time, you interrupt. "I think you can probably ask Demelza if you really want to see that, Luna. It’s been my experience that the room seems to obey the first person to enter it. Katie, I’m going to go take a quick dip. I’m really glad that you’re okay."

"Thank you, Harry. If you need anything …"

"I’ll let you know, Katie. Just make certain to give Slytherin a sound thrashing."

"Count on it, Harry."

Katie walks off and you get a nice little glimpse her firm backside out of the corner of your eye, while turning to Luna. "That wasn’t very nice. She was trying to thank me for saving her life."

She bends over to scoop up another handful of sand, not meeting your eyes and states, "Sorry, I was trying to come up with something witty involving her broom between her legs, but couldn’t get the wording right. Either way, this was your idea; so, are we going to swim first or embarrass Ginny?"

You’re not certain what to make of Luna at the moment. Maybe this was a bad idea.  Still, now is as good a time as any to clear the air with Ginny Weasley. "Let’s take care of Ginny now."

Ginny is wearing a blue bikini and sitting on a beach towel talking with Demelza and another girl in her year when you approach. She stops speaking and looks over her shoulder at you. Maybe there is something to that whole attention thing that Katie was talking about?

"Hello Ginny."

She looks up at you, slightly nervous. "Hello Harry."

"I’ve been back for several days now and I was just wondering why you didn’t drop by and say hello. I’m hurt. I thought we were friends. I seem to have a few memories of being more than that as well." Your voice drips sarcasm.

Ginny shrugs her shoulders and glances away. "Hermione advised me to steer clear of you the first night you came back. I listened to her. Besides, I’m dating Neville now."

You kneel down next to her to get back into her field of vision. "Drat! There go my hopes of starting over. What, did Dean prove resistant to the love potions as well?"

A little bit of that temper surfaces, "If you want to know so badly ask him!"

"No, I don’t really care one way or another. If Thomas was smart enough to see you for what you are, good on him, but I may have to have a few words with Neville to make certain he knows as well. Neville’s a real good bloke."

Ginny snaps back with her eyes tearing up "Stay away from him! What do you want? An apology? Fine. I’m sorry. Happy now? Just leave me alone."

Somehow it isn’t as much fun as you had imagined it would be. You made a little witch cry. The curious and disapproving stares of Robins and the other girl bore through you. Many other eyes are looking at your little group right now.

Robins speaks up, "I’m not really sure what’s going on here, but why don’t you move along, Harry?"

"That’s what I’m doing Demelza. Making certain I move along. Making certain there aren’t any more idiotic plans involving love potions in my future — right Ginny? Since you weren’t going to come to me, I needed to come to you and make that perfectly clear."

With that, you jump up from the kneeling position right to your feet in one fluid motion and walk towards the water. Before Brazil, you didn’t even know how to swim, but you’ve come to like it. The jaguar in you doesn’t necessarily crave the water, but is quite capable of swimming and even fishing while swimming. You dive into the warm water and swim out past the people on the tiny boards. Luna merely walks out until she is knee deep and sits down letting the waves wash across her.

You felt a little dirty anyway.

------

"Are you happy to get that off your chest, Harry?"

You keep walking down the hallway with her beside you. "Not really, Luna. I just don’t seem to fit in here anymore. Not that I ever did."

"You’re not leaving again, are you?" She asks quietly.

"From time to time, I need to leave. There are things that need to be done, but there are equally important reasons that I need to keep coming back."

"More of the things about the war that you can’t talk about, right?"

You give the petite blonde a smile. "Unfortunately, yes. Even if you were great at Occlumency, there would be things I couldn’t tell you.

"For my own protection…"

"Not just that, but for my safety and everyone else who is working with me. There is one reason I don’t mind coming back here to Hogwarts."

She blushes. "It’s tough making this work between us, isn’t it? When we’re alone there’s always the war we can’t talk about and when we’re in public I’m Looney."

You’d learned this lesson during the summer. She’s not going to come out of her protective shell until she is ready. "Luna, I’m not going to try to force you to change just for me. I’m not exactly great in groups either, am I?"

"No, you’re bloody awful."

You feign being hurt. "No words of encouragement? No, you just need more practice?"

She grins, probably the first real smile you’ve seen on her all day. "Sorry, there’s no way around it. You’re bloody awful - worse than me if you must know, because you’re actually trying."

The two of you share a laugh and she says, "Check the map?"

"Everyone’s on their way to lunch, why?"

"So that broom cupboard over there is empty?"

"It is."

"Why don’t we skip lunch? Unlike your room, no one is going to barge in with news about the war and force me to leave. Plus, if your Locking and Silencing charms are really that good there’s no way the public is going to get in to muck things up."

And people say the girl is insane…

------

Looking at the map some thirty minutes later, you realize that Dumbledore is loitering in the hallway. Well, at least he has the decency not to interrupt.

You look down at the young witch with the mussed up hair and sigh, "Give me a minute or two to deal with the old man and you’ll be able to leave."

"We have to do this again sometime."

"That sounds like a smashing idea."

Straightening yourself up, you head out into the hallway. "What can I do for you, Dum…?"

The spell hits you in midsentence. You feel your body twisting unnaturally and you collapse to the ground. What the hell did he do to you? Bastard swore an Oath! His words are muffled and your view is somewhat fuzzy.

He’s towering over you. "Were she still with us, Minerva would likely remind me that we do not ever use Transfiguration on a student. I would be forced to remind her that you are no longer a student. I’ve been thinking.   Lately, conversing with you could be compared to attempting to talk sense into a piece of furniture. In that light, I have decided to try just that and see if that tactic is more successful. Since your attendance has been rather spotty I’ve taken the liberty of informing your next professor that you wouldn’t be there. Ah, hello Miss Lovegood, you’d best run along to class."

"Is that Harry?"

"Very astute deduction, five points to Ravenclaw."

"He’s a footrest."

"Probably for the next thirty minutes until his innate magic overcomes my enchantment. In the meantime, Harry and I shall adjourn to my office for a decidedly one-sided conversation. I do believe that you may have to give Harry some leeway this evening. He might not be in a very charitable mood. By the way, how is your father my dear?"

Luna responds slowly continuing to stare down at you. She leans down and gently strokes the upholstery that used to be your body. "He is doing well. The Rotfangs have lost their hold on him. I was rather hoping that Harry had succeeded in becoming a furniture-magus … or is it furniture-magi? Either way, they’re extremely rare."

"Indeed, they must be."

"So, your plan is to sneak Harry into your enemy’s stronghold as a piece of furniture so that he may strike when they least expect it? Interesting, but I recommend leather instead of fabric, less chance of a Doxy infestation, unless of course Harry has made allies with the Doxies. Have they made him their king already? Shouldn’t there be a formal announcement? Unless of course, you and Harry are proposing a similar treaty with the Nargles and his new position would endanger that."

"Doxies and Nargles don’t like each other, my dear?"

"No, Professor.   Doxies have been dominant for centuries, but the Nargles developed a breeding plan for improved strength in the species.   Now the Doxies take the opportunity to embarrass Nargles whenever they can, but it rather shortsighted, particularly since Doxies are known for their vision.   But if you feel you don’t need the Nargles, then crowning Harry the Doxie king and finishing him out in leather should perfect your furniture infiltration plan.

Give her some credit. She’s not holding back against Dumbledore, and you’d bet the old coot will completely miss the comparison of himself to short-sighted Doxies. Harry Potter, King of All Doxies, it has a nice ring to it.

"Perhaps we shall consider that rather unorthodox approach, but in this case I have promised Harry some special lessons this year and until now have not been able to meet with him. This first lesson is on perspective. Now, do run along. You don’t want to be late for the afternoon session. Rest assured, he will be returned to you completely unharmed."

Luna shrugs and turns to leave. "Don’t worry sir; your secret plan is safe with me."

"A most curious child... I am not certain what you see in her, Harry, but who am I to question matters of the heart? Now, come along. I haven’t taught in years, so you must forgive me if my techniques are somewhat dated."

Minutes later, your vision is clouded by Dumbledore’s massive feet resting on top of you. Tiny Snitches dance across the turquoise socks. You still have all your senses; including smell. "Harry, I do believe I told you once long ago about my appreciation for socks. Always take care of your feet. I cannot emphasize that enough."

A smallish Fawkes lands on his right foot and squawks down at you. "Now Fawkes, you should be more respectful of our guests. Oh dear … that wasn’t very nice of you at all Fawkes. It may leave a stain, but I suppose there is a lesson in this for both of us, Harry. We, along with Tom, are exceptionally powerful wizards and must be wise and judicious with the use of our power. Take for instance that spell you used on Professor Snape this morning. Perhaps you were convinced that using such a gray spell would reinforce the mystique surrounding you. However, one must take into account that there are consequences to every action and that you are now reaping what you have sewn as a result. You have truly grown into a force to be reckoned with. However, Harry, you are not the only force to be reckoned with. Power, especially at a young age, requires both restraint and discretion. Perhaps that is where you can benefit from my years of experience."

He pauses and pulls an old wooden pipe from a desk drawer. "Do you mind if I have a smoke? I rarely indulge, but I find an occasional pipe relaxes me. Ah good, no objections."

Dumbledore lights the pipe and proceeds to blow tiny, smelly little smoke rings towards you. "Fighting a war is a very serious business and we haven’t necessarily been too friendly with each other as of late. Rather than continue to use dear Severus as a proxy for the ill-feelings that surround us, I have decided that a bit of open hostility is in order. Over the years Professor Snape has often accused you of having a swelled head and inflated ego. Until recently, I merely took his words for what they were and moved on to the next topic. Unfortunately, your actions as of late have lent a bit of credence to his musings. In this, and in several other ways, I have failed you, Harry. Nonetheless, we must endeavor to step beyond our petty squabbles and cooperate with each other. I shouldn’t have to remind you that if Tom is victorious, he won’t be content with such base humiliation for the both of us. We are far more likely to be killed first and paraded around as trophies. Death is, of course, simply the next great adventure, but I am rather reluctant to begin it when there is still so much to be done here."

After a few more minutes of enduring his witty sayings, he stops. "Impressive. You’re already beginning to revert at the fifteen minute mark. That in itself is commendable, well done indeed. Fawkes, do go ahead and take young Harry back to his room. Harry, thank you for affording me this time to air my concerns about our present working relationship, but I also have  business to attend to. I have a meeting at the Ministry and then an evening session of the Wizengamot to attend. I shall not return until the morning and ask that you take time this evening to reflect on our working relationship and what the both of us need to do to improve it. I welcome any suggestions you might have divined during this period of forced contemplation."

------

At dinnertime, you’re sitting with the Hufflepuffs and still fuming over your time as a damn piece of furniture! Dumbledore’s little stunt has you in a rather foul mood, but there’s no use holding anyone else accountable for that bastard’s actions. It’d only reinforce the opinion that you’re behaving immaturely. Plus, you know he’s trying to yank your strings! The only question is what did he hope to achieve with humiliating you? It took you a good thirty minutes to calm down and start trying to look beyond the act and start looking at Dumbledore’s motivations.

Unfortunately, Luna is already off to the evening detention earned as a result of being late. Still, she had slyly mentioned that if you ever ended up as a chaise lounge that she wouldn’t mind relaxing on top of you.

You need to keep her away from Fleur when Bill’s fiancé returns from France. She’s already trying to redirect your anger with sexual innuendo.

Wayne Hopkins and Justin Finch-Fletchley from the DA last year invited you over and are asking you about Brazil and, of course, about the rumors already swirling around what happened with Snape this morning. You’re explaining the basics of Dodgespell to the excited duo and a rather melancholy Susan Bones.

The sad but pretty witch reminds you that others have suffered dearly. Susan lost her aunt and by virtue of the murder of Hannah Abbott’s mum, her best friend. "Have you heard from Hannah?"

Susan pokes her barely touched plate of food. She’s a good deal thinner than you recalled and her hair is dull and listless. "I’ve received an international message or two. Her father had some pull at New Salem. She’s adjusting to classes in America."

Had you taken Lauren up on her offered tour, would you have bumped into Hannah there? That would have been an interesting scene, now wouldn’t it? "Next time you write to her tell her I said hello."

She drops her fork with a clatter on her plate and glares at you. "When are you going to stop him Harry?"

"Bee in your bonnet, Bones?" There’s something to be said for alliteration. There’s also the school motto about tickling a sleeping dragon. Susan doesn’t want any part of you right now.

The red head hisses at you, "People are dying and you’re sitting here describing a bloody game!"

A bit of anger wells up in you for the Hufflepuff witch.    "Could you please tell me when I became your anointed savior?"

"You’re Harry Potter." She growls back.

"Can’t fault that logic, now can I? I spent a good portion of last year trying to get you people to train yourself and prepare. So let me ask you this Susan, when are you going to do something about all this? Or are you just going to sit there feeling miserable for yourself and hope that someone else is going to solve all your problems? Isn’t it about time you grow up?"

"You’ve got no right to say that!" Her shriek silences much of the conversation at this table and those neighboring it. Ravenclaws and Slytherins fall silent and hang on your reply.

"Funny, a second ago you were asking when I’d take care of this Dark Wizard problem. Maybe I need to get my hearing checked? Let’s call it what it is, Susan. You want to know when I’m going to kill him. I’ve been stopping him for five years already with precious little help from the lot of you! Tell you what Susan Bones, prove to me that you’re worth saving and I’ll see what I can do. Wayne, Justin, it’s been good catching up. Dodgespell is also pretty good at improving your casting speed. That might come in handy, if you catch my meaning."

Standing up, you feel the burn of eyes staring at you. Your gaze walks up and down the Slytherin table. Most shift uneasily under your glare. There’s an empty spot where Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle usually sit. Pity, he should have seen this.

Shaking your head you leave the Great Hall. They’re all a collection of poorly prepared children barely able to lift a finger to help themselves. No wonder Voldemort is winning! Hagrid once explained to you that if the Muggle world knew about the Magical one, they’d expect all their problems to be solved by magic. It seems like the Muggle world isn’t the only one capable of suffering from those delusions.

Smart man that Hagrid, well provided you excuse his taste in bed warmers.

------

"I heard you had a little tirade at dinner time."

"I’m not in the mood, Bill." He doesn’t know about your little encounter with Dumbledore yet.

"Good, because, you’re not half as pretty as Fleur."

"Oh now I’m really hurt. You do realize that you’re interrupting a Curse Breaker during carving? According to your Golden Rules, this had better be important."
 
"Do I detect a bit of sarcasm? Is little Harry feeling like he’s all caged up in the big old castle when he could be out blowing something up?"

You set down your chisel. Normally, a half finished Rune is considered a crime, but your favorite red head has that gleam in his eye. He’s up to something. "What do you have in mind?"

"You know that oath you took?"

"Don’t toy with me, Bill! I’ve had a rather trying day. If you’ve figured out a hole in it, you need to let me know right the fuck now!"

"Touchy, touchy! Well it’s only a theory at this point, but I’ve been looking through my copy of Chilotha’s stuff and several of the books we took from the Black library and I have an idea. You know that baby thing Riddle made?"

"Hello, I was there."

"Well, I figured out that it’s a homunculus. They’re sometimes called blood bags. Some cultures use them as an anchor for magic based on blood. Others have been known to use stillborn children, but that’s straying from the topic and more than a little disgusting. Either way, one of the books from the Black library has a recipe."

"Sounds rather Dark, but go on, I like where this is headed."

He guffaws. "It’s borderline Necromancy. During more peaceful times, I’m sure it’d be worth a stint in Azkaban, but that Diplomatic Immunity of yours does come in handy."

"Is it Dark enough to really make Dumbledore squirm?" You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes. After all, the only hold that bastard has over you is to protect the school. If there’s a way that you can keep the wards strong and get out from under his thumb, well you’d be oath bound to investigate it.

Curse Breakers in general have a much more flexible view on Dark magic. They have to, or they don’t live that long. Back in Brazil, you were surprised when Bill said that the best ‘breakers have a decided tint of gray in their outlook. Many ward sets are filled with runes designed to kill intruders indiscriminately. If the ward set does the job it’s going to kill some anonymous person or thing. You might even be long dead before it happens.

"In the past, I’d have said yes, but we both know he isn’t nearly as ‘light’ as he claims. Right now, I’m guessing we’ll at least receive stern disapproval, but if this works, Harry, the homunculus should handle your ward charging duties and give you a bit more freedom."

There was a time not so long ago when you looked at this castle as an escape from the Dursleys — a sanctuary. That was then. This is now.

You give Bill a thin smile and try to picture Dumbledore’s face when the two of you figuratively cram this down his throat. "What’s a little borderline Necromancy among friends?"

• Previous
• I was Born to Run I was Born to Dream The Craziest Boy You've Ever Seen I Gotta Do It My Way Or No Way at All And I'm Here to Please I'm Even On My Knees Making Love to Whoever I Please I Gotta Do It My Way (reprise) Or No Way at All (reprise) And Then You Came Around Tried to Tie Me Down I Was Such a Clown You Had to Have It Your Way, I'm Saying No Way So Why Don't You Turn Me Loose? Turn Me Loose
• Next