Foreshadowing the Past

Chapter 7

You're writing the story of your life one moment at a time.

- Doc Childre and Howard Martin

Quentin had been surprised, but pleased to see his father standing on the pitch in the aftermath of the game. He had not mentioned coming to the school in his last letter, and enjoyed the fact that he had wanted to see his son play in his real first game. "I'm glad you came, Dad!" he said. "I want you to meet my friends."

Connor was standing nearby with a man who was obviously his father, and pretty redheaded woman who was trying to wipe a smudge of dirt off of his face. "Connor! Come meet my dad!" Quentin said cheerfully, even though he was aware that there were certain amounts of tension between the adults. "Dad," he said proudly. "This is my best mate, Connor."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Connor said politely, offering a still-gloved hand to the older man."

"I've heard a lot about you from Quentin," Draco Malfoy answered smoothly, shaking hands with the boy. "You both played an excellent game."

"Thanks," the boys said together.

"Hey Quint!" Connor said, not noticing how Draco winced at the nickname. "This is my Dad and my Mum!"

"I'm please to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Quentin replied politely, offering his hand to each of them in turn.

"We're glad to meet you, Quentin," Ginny said sincerely. Connor had spent the entire summer talking about how much he missed his friends, and it was evident now that Quentin returned the feelings of friendship.

"Those are very nice gloves," Harry commented, inspecting the supple red leather and gold embroidery when Quentin obligingly held out his hands. "Very cool."

"Thank you," the boy answered, pleased. "My father gave them to me as a gift for making the team."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, amused at the image of Draco ordering such an expensive item emblazoned with the Gryffindor symbol after all of their school days rivalry. "Draco," he greeted. "It's been quite some time."

"It has," Draco agreed, shaking hands briefly.

"Your Quentin is quite talented on a broom," Ginny said into the silence that followed. "You must be very proud of him."

"Yes," he agreed. "His mother and I are both very proud. I'm afraid that she had other commitments today, but she was very that sorry she couldn't be here." This last part was directed at his son, who nodded in understanding.

"Hey you two! Are you coming up to celebrate?" Aiden called over to Connor and Quentin, while waving happily at his Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry.

"You go ahead," Draco smiled down at Quentin. "I have some business to see to with the Headmistress about your sister."

Quentin nodded and hugged his father once more, smiling as he heard him murmur, "I'm very proud of you."

Connor looked to his own parents as Mr. Malfoy strode off toward the castle, and they chuckled at the eager look on his face. "We're going up to see Remus," his Dad said. "We'll see you again this evening before we leave."

The two boys ran off to join their teammates in the changing rooms, and then after a quick wash, were happy to find Rachel, Ivy and Zack waiting for them at the main entrance to the school. They talked about some of the more spectacular plays of the game on their way up to Gryffindor Tower, and when they climbed through the portrait hole, they were greeted with a loud cheer from the celebrating students. Everyone seemed to be holding a Butterbeer and there were copious amounts of sweets being passed around from hand to hand.

"Where did all of this come from?" Ivy asked, accepting several cold bottles and passing one to each of her friends.

"All compliments of Connor's dad!" Aiden said happily. "All of this stuff was in boxes with a note from Uncle Harry that said, 'congratulations, and enjoy, Gryffindors!' taped to the table."

"Thank you Uncle Harry!" Rachel grinned tearing open a Chocolate Frog and popping it into her mouth.

Connor grinned, and flopped down onto the sofa where they made a spot for him. 'Way to go, Dad!' he thought, selecting a tart from the tin that was passed to him, and carefully avoiding the Canary Creams that were tucked in among the other biscuits and pastries. As talked turned to the match, and Connor's saving goal, everyone seemed to have something to add to the story. Shawn (* Fred's son in fifth year) and Victoria Weasley (* Charlie's daughter in third year) eventually snuck down to the kitchens and returned a short while later with a huge platter of sandwiches and a basket full of fresh fruit, so the party could continue without having the pesky interruption of having to leave for lunch.

Everyone was feeling lazy and content as evening slowly approached. Zack was roasting marshmallows on a stick, by popping Pepper Imps into his mouth and breathing fire at them. Ivy and Rachel were sorting through the huge stack of Chocolate Frog cards that had been inside all of the packages of the sweets. Quentin had gone to have lunch with is father, before Mr. Malfoy had to go back home, and Connor had allowed himself to be lured into a game of chess with Victoria, who was the much better player. Something made the hairs on the back of Connor's neck stand up, and he looked up from the game board to find that Andrew was standing at the top of the stairwell to the boys' dormitory, staring directly at him.

Connor's mood was just good enough that he thought to make some sort of placating gesture toward the other boy, and called up to him, "There's still some Butterbeer down here, if you want some."

Many eyes turned to look up the stairs to see who Connor was speaking to, and were shocked by the look of loathing that spread over Andrew's features as he spat, "I don't want anything you have to offer, Potter."

All eyes then turned to Connor to see how he would handle such a rude reply, but Connor simply shrugged, and moved his Knight to a new position. "Suit yourself," she said, not looking at the boy again.

There were many whispers amongst the students gathered in little groups, and Connor heard words like 'rude' and 'git' being used with frequency in regards to Andrew. Connor simply shrugged it off and continued getting beaten at chess by his cousin. If the other boy wasn't interested in a truce, then that was fine; he, Zack and Quentin could handle it. Silently cursing his abysmal chess-playing ability, he noted that he would be loosing his match in about five moves. When Professor Lupin came through the portrait hole and smiled at everyone while making his way toward Connor, he breathed a sigh of relief - perhaps he wouldn't be forced to endure Victoria's gloating after all.

"Connor," Lupin said as he looked down at the board. "You're fighting a losing battle here, so perhaps it's best for you that I came to fetch you. Your parents would like to visit with you before they leave."

"Sorry, Tori," Connor said with a grin. "Looks like we won't be able to finish."

"You got lucky,' She sneered companionably.

Connor followed Lupin out through the portrait hole and along the corridor, wondering where they were going to meet his Mum and Dad. As if reading his mind, the Professor said, "Your parents are in Professor McGonagall's office, Connor. They're concerned about the incident with Vanessa Malfoy last night, and Professor McGonagall wants to let you know exactly how she handled that particular situation."

Connors heart sank. He had sent them an owl about it already, but if they were worried enough about it to come to the school and meet with the headmistress, he knew that a lecture was going to be forthcoming; a long one. His glum expression earned him a chuckle and a pat on the back from Lupin as they approached the entrance to the Headmistress's office. Lupin glanced at the gargoyle guarding the entrance and said, "animagus." The gargoyle leapt aside, and Connor stepped onto the moving staircase that spiraled upward toward a landing with a heavy wooden door. Lupin stepped off of the stairs right behind him and knocked briskly with the Griffin knocker in the center of the door. When he heard Professor McGonagall call out to come in, Lupin reached around Connor and opened the door, gesturing for the boy to precede him.

"Ah, Connor, please come in and sit down," the Headmistress greeted him warmly. She had stood when they entered, and Connor was surprised to see quite a large table in the center of the room, where her parents were sitting. He took a seat beside his father, and looked at them apprehensively. Professor Lupin sat beside McGonagall, and re-warmed the cup in front of him with his wand before taking a sip of the tea that he had obviously abandon to go and fetch Connor from the Common Room.

"Hey Con," his father greeted him with a smile.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" McGonagall asked, lifting a teapot to refill his mother's cup.

"No, thank you," Connor answered politely. He turned to his father while the teapot was set down, and said, "Thank you for all of the Butterbeer and Sweets. They were a big hit."

Harry smiled at his son, surprised to note how much he seemed to have grown in the short time since he'd left home. "You earned it."

"Well Connor," the Headmistress said kindly. "I suppose you can surmise why we're all meeting here like this. I wrote to your parents concerning Ms. Malfoy's attempt to exploit you, and I understand that you did so as well. We've discussed it, and we felt that you should be told exactly what was decided, so that all of us are on the same page, so to speak."

Connor nodded.

"First of all," his Mum said firmly, "you did exactly the right thing. You didn't let her bully you or use what little information she had to rattle you into doing or saying anything foolish."

"We're also glad that you wrote to us right away to let us know what was going on." His Dad added. "It makes it a lot easier for us, when we know that you trust us enough to communicate with us."

"Well I knew that Professor McGonagall would write to you," Connor shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the praise. "I thought you'd want to hear it from me, as well."

"That's exactly what we want," his Mum confirmed.

"Mr. Potter," the headmistress was looking at Connor, so he assumed that she wasn't talking to his Dad. "Vanessa Malfoy was banned from today's match, as I'm sure you know. She was also given one week of detention, to be served with me, and another week's detention with her head of house. Furthermore, twenty five points has been deducted from Slytherin, and I met with her father earlier today about her conduct."

Connor was shocked at the severity of the punishment, and said as much before he could stop himself. He wondered if Mr. Malfoy knew about his abilities at all. He had told Quentin that it was kind of a secret, but had never asked him not to tell his father. Vanessa hadn't known before yesterday, so he was guessing that her father hadn't either.

"It may seem harsh," she told him in a no-nonsense tone. "But she needed a very strong deterrent against accidentally letting it slip out at some point. Her personal stance throughout my interview with her was that of misunderstood martyr." "The meeting with her father was a little more encouraging, and she seemed more repentant after a brief meeting alone with him. He, of course has no idea of your abilities."

Connor snorted at that, and was rewarded with the very smallest of smiles by the adults in the room.

"The meeting with her father was a little more encouraging, and she seemed more repentant after a brief meeting alone with him. He, of course has no idea of your abilities, and was simply told that Vanessa was using extortion and threats against another student."

"She's going to want to get me back for this."

"Yes, I fear she will try," McGonagall said bluntly. "She left my office a very angry girl, and while she may not tell anyone about your clairvoyance, it is probable that she will seek to make your life as uncomfortable as possible for the foreseeable future."

"I wasn't going to say anything before," Connor said slowly, not wanting to start more of a fuss. "But me and my friends saw Andrew Tillman taking to Vanessa the other night before dinner, after he had tried to pull a really nasty prink on my and Quentin. It seemed to us like she had been in on the prank he'd pulled, but I don't know for sure."

"What kind of prank?" Professor Lupin asked with a frown.

Connor explained to the adults about the prank with the wet clothes and homework, and how they had turned the tables on the other boy. He also told them about the other boys in their year rejecting Andrew, and how he had stormed out.

"So it basically started off with Andrew getting mad at you when you fell out of bed in the middle of the night, and then day after that the other boys told him off, and it ended with him trying to destroy your homework."

"Pretty much," Connor said with a shrug. "Anyway, right after he found out that he'd ruined his own homework, he stormed out, and a few minutes later we found him hiding in a dark corner complaining to Vanessa."

"I see," McGonagall said with a grave expression.

"Andrew has been a real jerk since we got back to school," Connor said. "I tried to offer him some Butterbeer today, but he just got nasty and said he didn't want anything from me."

"Well, I don't feel that I can give you any details about Mr. Tillman's situation, but I will say this: he's had a very hard time at home over the summer. He may be acting out because of it, and just doesn't know how to deal with it."

"I'll see if I can get him to open up," Lupin offered.

"What we're trying to say, Connor," the Headmistress said briskly, "is that we want you to be particularly careful. With two people exceptionally angry with you, and one of them in your own dormitory, we want you to practice caution in everything you say and do. You may want to warn your friends of the same."

McGonagall nodded, and then stood. "I have some business to attend to before dinner," she said to the Potter family. "Please feel free to stay and use my office for as long as you'd like." She gathered a few papers from her desk and left, and Lupin also excused himself and said good-bye.

Connor sat at the table with his parents and got caught up with the news from home. Lucy and Ian had been a handful since Connor had returned to school, and their Mother had caught them poring over their big brother's first year textbooks. They would be attending Hogwarts the following year, and were determined to do well, feeling that they should read as much as they could before they started. Six-year-old Adam had developed a talent for charming any adult he came into contact with, and had recently lost a front tooth.

Connor soaked up everything his Mum and Dad had to say; grateful that he had not received the long lecture that he had been sure was forthcoming when he'd come to the Headmistress's office. When the thunder of footsteps that told them that dinner was about to start reached their ears, his Mum hugged him tightly and told him he should go join his classmates for the evening meal, as she and his father would be leaving to retrieve his brothers and sister from their grandmother's house. He hugged his Dad, and then started for the door when he remembered something Quentin and Zack had told him. He turned around and asked, "Mum, do I talk in my sleep at home?"

"No," she answered with a slight frown. "You snore something terrible, but you don't talk. Why?"

"The guys say I talk in my sleep," he said. "They said I've been doing it almost since our first night back."

"That's odd," his Dad said, also frowning a little. "Have you had something on your mind?"

"Not really," Connor answered. "Just a strange dream."

"A strange dream?" he asked. "Just one?"

Connor nodded, slightly embarrassed. "It's pretty much the same every time."

His Mum gestured for him to come back to sit with them, and asked him to recount his dream with as much detail as possible. With a sigh and a dramatic roll of his eyes that made Harry's lips twitch, Connor sat back down and told them everything that he could remember. He was alarmed by the way both of his parents looked suddenly pale, and asked them what was wrong.

"Nothing," his father answered too quickly.

"It's just that we're concerned," his Mum said soothingly. "We have to wonder if this is some new manifestation of your abilities."

"It's just a dream, Mum!" he said with exasperation.

"Yes, well, just the same, I think I'll write to Madam MacTaggart and get her opinion," his mother said firmly.

Amelia MacTaggart had been the witch who had first diagnosed Connor's precognitive abilities, and who still visited once a year to interview him and his parents. She was a nice enough lady, but Connor hated to be fussed over. "Mum," he moaned, holding the word for several syllables.

"I'm just going to write, Connor. If this means anything, we should be forewarned," she said.

"Dad..." Connor appealed.

"Sorry Son," Harry said. "I agree with your mother on this one. Now go and join your friends. We'll write to you soon."

Connor looked closely at his parents, who still seemed a little dazed, and noted that their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes. As he left the room, he shut the door behind him, and then pressed his ear to the keyhole to see if his parents would discuss him.

"Why would he be dreaming about the Department of Mysteries?" his mother asked with a trembling voice.

"I don't know," his Dad answered, sounding equally shaky. "But we need to find out."

Connor didn't hear anything more, and so he left to head to the Great Hall. He had a lot to think over, and wondered what exactly the Department of Mysteries was, and if he should tell his friends about the dreams.