To Dwell on Dreams

Chapter Three

Hogwarts Reopened

Harry arrived, staggering, in front of the Burrow, clutching at Hedwig's cage. Ron was there, struggling with Harry's trunk as he dragged it up the stairs. He pulled out a rusty old ring of keys, which seemed strange to Harry, for every other time he had visited the Weasley home, the front door had been kept unlocked, and pushed one into one of many keyholes in the door. "Security measures," Ron explained, catching Harry's confused expression. "For once, Dad's right about Muggle things. Spells are easily broken, but they'll have to resort to physical force with this kind of lock. We had them installed last week." He continued to insert keys in their holes.

The black-haired boy nodded, barely listening to his friend. He was suddenly very tired; Apparition had somehow sapped all the energy he had gained back after the dream, even though it should have taken no effort. "Let's wait for Hermione," Ron said, his hand on the doorknob.

A moment later, Hermione appeared with a faint pop, looking rather disgruntled. "Don't brush me off like - Harry! Are you all right? You look really pale ... oh, I knew you shouldn't have Apparated..." Ron's concerned face joined Hermione's in Harry's limited line of vision, and for a moment, their images swam. Harry took a gulp of air, and his vision cleared again for the time being.

"Come on, we'll get you to bed." Ron opened the door and ushered his best friend inside. Hermione closed the door behind them, and Harry heard a series of clicking sounds as she turned the locks. It was dark in the kitchen, and the clock hanging on the wall told Harry that it was three o' clock in the morning. He noticed it wasn't the usual clock with the status of all the Weasleys on it, but instead a normal clock. Mrs. Weasley was probably carrying around the other one.

A headline in the Evening Prophet sitting on the kitchen table caught Harry's eye. He motioned for Ron and Hermione to stop so that he could read the rest of the article.

HOGWARTS TO REOPEN: RECENT EVENTS WILL NOT HAVE IMPACT ON SCHOOL, HEADMISTRESS AND GOVERNORS SAY

London - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will reopen for the coming school year, despite the death of former headmaster Albus Dumbledore ten days ago from a Killing Curse fired by Death Eater and former professor at the school, Severus Snape.

"We feel that the best way to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is to go about our lives as usual," said Minerva McGonagall, Dumbledore's successor, last night after the Board of Governors meeting. "Obviously, keeping the school open is an integral part of that, and we hope parents will continue sending their children to Hogwarts. I must emphasize the number of wards and enchantments the headmasters and headmistresses of the past placed on the school, not to mention the spells the Founders placed on it. Hogwarts is the safest place to be in these times...I repeat, the safest place to be."

"Minerva is right," said Hester Greenwood, a school governor. "I completely agree with her statements."

When asked about Dumbledore's death under dishonorable circumstances, McGonagall and the governors reiterated their previous point. However, parents have a different outlook on this matter.

"How safe can it be if Dumbledore himself was killed by someone he trusted?" said David Brown, 43, of Liverpool. "What if that happens again? To the students, I mean. Well, one thing's for sure. I won't be sending my daughter there this year, no matter how safe the Ministry and the school claims Hogwarts is."

Other parents and guardians, however, agree with the decision.

"There are spells upon the school that can't be broken," said Augusta Longbottom, 76, a grandmother, from her Blackpool home. "Some of these spells were cast by Dumbledore, and I've always trusted him. I'll admit Snape was a mistake, but even the best of us make mistakes, and it is unlikely Dumbledore made any more."

"Hogwarts is reopening," Harry said quietly, after a long pause. He suddenly felt alert.

Hermione looked hesitant. "Yeah, it is," she agreed. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again, gathering up courage to say something. Harry got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I... I'm going back." Harry turned to face her fully. She quailed. "For the information, the resources," she added in explanation, and rather defensively. "Beating Voldemort is far more important than N.E.W.T.s, and you know I know that, so don't look at me that way."

Harry looked straight into her defiant eyes. "Hermione, I don't care. You're one of my two best friends" - he glanced at Ron - "and I know that you would much rather finish school. I wouldn't blame you for going back, even if it was for the N.E.W.T.s. Actually, I thought about it myself--"

"Oh, Harry." Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry for thinking - for thinking you'd be angry. Ron and I both were thinking that we ought to go back to Hogwarts, because it'd be like a starting point. We thought we'd have to force you into it." She gave him a watery smile.

"It's just," continued Harry, "Hogwarts won't be the same, without Dumbledore. And a lot of people won't show up. It'll feel like hiding..."

"Going to Hogwarts isn't hiding," interrupted Ron. "I mean, think about it. Now that Dumbledore's gone, the school will become more of a base of operations for the Ministry, or hopefully the Order. Everyone's focused on the war; I doubt anyone's going to get much of an education. But we'll be joining the war effort by going to Hogwarts, not hiding."

"What eez zis about 'iding?" said a sleepy voice behind Harry.

"Morning, Fleur," Ron said cheerily. "You're up early." Harry studied his and Hermione's expressions. They had gone from serious to smiling as soon as Fleur had entered the kitchen. He pasted a smile on his face as well, and then turned to face the part-veela.

"Hello." Harry grinned.

"What's zis about 'iding?" repeated Fleur, suspiciously.

"We were talking about a game of hide and seek Ron played when he was five. He got lost in the woods, looking for a hiding spot, and Charlie spent five hours trying to find him," Hermione lied. Harry marveled at the smoothness of it.

"Oh." Fleur yawned again, sounding bored, then slouched off in the other direction. Harry watched her leave, wondering if he'd ever seen her move ungracefully before, then turned back to his friends.

"Why'd you make up that story?" he asked.

"Shh!" hissed Ron, an urgent look in his eye. "She's not far away enough yet," he added in a whisper. "Look; I haven't told Mum that I'm going back to Hogwarts yet. She... she knows it's the safest place to be, but, you know..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Harry felt the familiar feeling in his heart that usually came whenever Ron or someone else accidentally reminded him that his mother wasn't around to worry. "Well, anyway, Fleur's become Mum's other pair of eyes. She tells her everything. Probably to get even further into her good graces, though it's not as if Mum would ever reject her. Mum loves her now." He rolled his eyes.

Harry was glad for the change of subject. "So when's the wedding?"

"Bill and Fleur's? It's next week." Ron shrugged. "I'm not too thrilled; Fleur's got me in these terrible golden robes. Still, it's a little better than what Ginny's wearing. She and Gabrielle are going to look horrible." He glanced around the kitchen. "Anyone else feeling a little peckish? Harry, pass us one of those Cauldron Cakes Mum's got hidden in that top cupboard over there."

At this, Hermione looked scandalized. "Ron!"

"What?" Ron looked confused. "Oh, come on, Hermione, it's just a Cauldron Cake."

"No, not the Cauldron Cake," she replied impatiently. "Harry. He must be tired. I mean, he looked ready to drop to the ground earlier, and all you want is for him to exert himself and get you a Cauldron Cake."

"So it is really about the Cauldron Cake," Ron countered, a look of triumph etched on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hermione, Harry's all right now."

"I am," said Harry. "Really."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione hovered over him anxiously, until an irritated-looking Ron pulled her away. "All right, all right," she snapped. "I get the point. I'm just being a good friend, unlike you, who would rather have a Cauldron Cake than a healthy--"

"That's twice you've admitted it was about the Cauldron Cake!" crowed Ron, erupting into a fit of laughter. "Twice!"

"I didn't admit it was about the Cauldron Cake!" Hermione folded her arms grumpily. "The Cauldron Cake has nothing to do with it! It's about Harry, not the stupid--"

"Then why do you keep on talking about the Cauldron Cake?" challenged Ron, his eyes sparkling. Harry could tell he enjoyed this. "Huh, Hermione? Answer that! Why have you used the phrase 'Cauldron Cake' at least fifty times in the last minute?"

"I haven't - fifty times is an exaggeration - Ronald Weasley, you are insufferable!" Hermione scowled and whirled around to face the window. "I am not going to talk or look at either of you until you, Ron, admit that I was not talking about Cauldron Cakes, and you, Harry, wipe that smirk off your face!"

The dramatic effect was diminished slightly by a giant canary appearing in the window, causing Hermione to shriek in surprise. With a pop, the canary turned into one of the twins, grinning broadly. "Hiya, Hermione," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the glass. "Did I surprise you?"

"Hermione was talking about Cauldron Cakes," Ron informed his brother.

"Cauldron Cakes?" Fred or George gasped. "Hermione! Not thinking about nicking one of Mum's hidden Cauldron Cakes, are you? She's planning on keeping them for something special."

"I'm not thinking about stealing a Cauldron Cake," gritted Hermione. "So bugger off, George. And shut up, Ron." She looked vaguely surprised and a little pleased at her commands.

"Such language, coming from such a pure vessel," George tutted. "Never thought I'd hear those words coming from you, but even the best of us lose control. I should know, because I'm the best. Then again, Ronniekins is probably rubbing off on you."

He disappeared from the window, only to come in the door a few moments later, brushing feathers off his green dragon skin jacket. "Ah, Harry! I didn't see you through the window. I've been testing the new and improved Canary Cream... the canary effect lasts much longer, up to an hour. How are you?" He shook Harry's hand vigorously. "Dursleys treat you all right?"

"They ignored me, mostly, but yeah." A strange feeling came over Harry. Now that he wasn't rushing to get away from Privet Drive, he felt a little empty. The Dursleys' house had been his home for the first eleven years of his life, and he'd left it quite suddenly.

"Good to know." George spotted the Prophet lying on the table. "I wonder what's new... hmm..." He picked up the paper and rifled through it. "Interesting. Hogwarts is open; hope you're not thinking of going Ronnie, because Mum's going to have a fit if you even introduce the idea." Ron turned red at this. "... Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear." George looked serious. "Cho Chang's family was attacked yesterday, before dawn. She's all right. She was out at the time. But her parents..."

Harry, who hadn't spoken to Cho in over a year, still felt rather numb at the news. It was terrible. "Does it say why?" he managed to ask.

"Er... just says her mum and dad owned a shop down in Diagon Alley, and they were pretty anti-You-Know-Who, though they just talked about things. Not part of the Order or anything."

"It's not because of her association with you, Harry," said Hermione quietly, from next to him. "So don't think about it too much."

But Harry was still brooding when Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen ten minutes later. George was busy reading the Quidditch section of the paper, his feet up on the table. "George! What did I say about..." Mrs. Weasley spotted Harry. "Harry! You're here! Ron and Hermione mentioned something about going to fetch you, but they didn't say exactly when... You look thin, dear, and only a week and a half with the Dursleys. Oh, I despise those people. George! Feet off the table!"

She busied herself with pots and pans. Over the next fifteen minutes, Weasleys appeared in the kitchen; Harry recognized some, but not all. Apparently, some of the family had arrived early for the wedding. Charlie was there, sporting a burn mark on his left cheek. Fred and Ginny arrived next. The former winked at Harry, the latter avoided his eyes. Harry felt his heart sink at that, but didn't say anything. Mr. Weasley came in yawning, followed by Bill and Fleur, who were both beaming. Bill's scars didn't look much better than they had at Hogwarts.

An old woman with papery skin kissed Ron on the cheek wetly when she came downstairs. Ron blushed, and Ginny smirked. "Hello, Auntie Muriel," Ron muttered, glaring at his sister.

In addition to Auntie Muriel, there was a portly man with a ginger mustache who turned out to be Mr. Weasley's younger brother, John. With him was a younger man in his mid-twenties; he was Ron's cousin, Bilius Jr., who had been taken in by the unmarried Uncle John after the death of his father. Mrs. Weasley's sister, Ron's Aunt Louise, had come with her husband Christopher and their daughter Orla, whom Harry remembered was going to be a fourth year Ravenclaw in September.

It wasn't until Fleur's family arrived in the crowded kitchen when Harry was noticed by Ron's non-immediate relatives. Harry, who had been sitting in the corner with Hermione, feeling awkward and wondering how so many people had managed to fit in the Burrow, was suddenly hit by a blonde blur. "'Arry!" it cried. "'Arry, mon héros!"

Everyone quieted and looked in his direction. Harry blushed. An eleven-year-old girl had seemingly attached herself to him. He saw a flicker of annoyance cross Ginny's face before she shifted out of sight. "Gabrielle," said a beautiful woman who looked like Fleur from the door. She followed this with a string of rapid French that Harry could not understand. Gabrielle reluctantly let go of Harry.

The talk resumed, though Ron's relatives were now shooting curious glances at Harry ever so often. "Oh, 'Arry," said Gabrielle dreamily. Hermione smirked. Harry scowled at her. "You are very beautiful."

Hermione snorted. "Er... thank you?" Harry said. Well, he'd never been called beautiful before...

"But you must say eet in French." Gabrielle pouted.

"Er..." Harry thought back to his primary school French lessons. What was "thank you," anyway? He hadn't bothered to remember. "Mercy," he managed. "Mercy bow-coop."

Hermione let out a giggle, which she disguised as a cough. "Oh, you are so funny!" gasped Gabrielle, and she absolutely roared with laughter. "Maman! 'Arry is so funny!" she called. "You must leesten to ze way 'e says thank you!"

"Gabrielle, come," said Mrs. Delacour, looking severe. "Leave ze poor boy alone."

"I must go. Goodbye, 'Arry." Gabrielle flounced off to her mother.

"Mercy bow-coop?" teased Hermione, once she was out of earshot.

"I haven't had a French lesson in years," Harry replied defensively. "At least she understood what I was saying." He spotted Ginny approaching. "Hang on... I think Ginny wants to talk to me."

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was standing near the door, clearly waiting for Harry. "Go on," she urged. "She's been acting strange ever since she got home. That's what Ron said."

Harry didn't need to hear anymore. He stood up and made his way to the door. "Hey," he said.

"How are you?" Ginny seemed nervous. Without waiting for a response, she blurted, "Want to go for a walk? I want to talk."

"Sure." He opened the door, waved for Ginny to go through first, then shut it behind himself. They headed down the path slowly, towards the woods behind the house. Ginny remained silent. Harry decided to let her start the conversation, whenever she was ready. He glanced at the clouds in the sky, wondering how they could look so innocent while hanging over a war-torn land.

"Let's go into the forest," Ginny said at last, after a full five minutes of silence. Harry followed her into the trees, noting how the sun shining through the leaves bathed everything in green. Funny how he never really noticed things like that before. Next to him, Ginny tripped, and he held out a hand to steady her without hesitation. Her skin burned under his fingers. He let go quickly. "Thanks," she said stiffly. "I-I noticed Gabrielle--"

"Is that what this is about?" Harry asked, amused, stopping on the spot and turning to face her.

"No," she replied. "It's not. I just thought it was a bit funny, that's all." She gave him a wan smile. "Let's sit here," she added, pointing to the base of an enormous tree. Harry sat down next to her, leaning his head against the trunk. It was quiet in the forest, but a peaceful kind of quiet. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Ron told me something."

"Mmm?"

"He said - he said you had a nightmare last night. That V-Voldemort sent you one." Harry, who had heard her say the name without hesitation before, opened one eye and looked down at her anxious face.

"He shouldn't have," he replied, and then shut the eye again. He didn't want to look at her; that would make him wish that he hadn't done what he had done at Dumbledore's funeral, and that would put Ginny in danger.

"Harry." Ginny shifted. Harry could hear her moving in the leaves. "Tell me about it."

There was a long pause, in which Harry debated whether or not to talk about the dream. Finally, he said wearily, "Snape, Malfoy, and his mother were captured last night. Snape's being rewarded" - he spat the word out - "for killing Dumbledore, but Voldemort's not pleased with Malfoy or his mother. But Snape wanted Malfoy alive, so Voldemort decided to give him another chance."

He gulped, unable to go on. "And?" Ginny asked softly, after a minute.

"He... Voldemort, that is, told Malfoy that in order to have that second chance, he would have to kill - to kill his mother." Ginny gasped. "Well, Malfoy wouldn't. His mother pleaded with him to do it, but he still wouldn't." Harry found it even harder to continue. "So Voldemort got Bellatrix Lestrange to put the Cruciatus Curse on him. She did it gladly," he added bitterly. "Malfoy still wouldn't do it. His mum was crying by then, trying to save him by telling him to kill her, that it was all right. I think some of the Death Eaters were horrified, even, because Narcissa Malfoy was still pretty useful. So--"

He took a big breath, then fell silent. He couldn't say it. "Please, Harry. You've got to get it out," said Ginny.

"Voldemort pushed Bellatrix aside and did it himself. He tortured Malfoy. It was horrible. He was screaming and tearing at himself. Voldemort made me watch him as he lost his voice screaming. Then he stopped. And he told Malfoy to kill Narcissa. Malfoy did it, and he was grinning too... Ginny, he's mad. Voldemort's tortured him into insanity. And Narcissa: she was like my mum. She wanted to die for her son." His voice was a whisper now, his eyes open and staring at the ground.

Harry felt sick, but blissfully empty at the same time, as if he had been relieved of a heavy load. "Merlin," said Ginny. "I-I... Hermione would be better at this. I never thought Malfoy's mother would - Malfoy, mad?"

"It's disgusting, what Voldemort does," Harry hissed.

"I know." Ginny hesitated, then barreled on. "I want to help, Harry. I know you, Ron, and Hermione know something the rest of us don't, and I want to help, even if it's helping without knowing what exactly you're doing. I know Dumbledore must have told you not to tell anyone, and I respect that. And I know Ron's going back to Hogwarts, so you and Hermione must be too. I want you to know that I'm going too."

"But your mum--"

"I know perfectly well what my mother wants, thanks," said Ginny coldly. "Don't push me away. Ron's been ranting all week about how Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain now anyway; you've no excuse."

Harry felt a smile come upon his face. "I'm not arguing with you," he said, as Ginny scowled at him. "I'm just asking you how you propose to tell your mum. I'm not stupid. I know I need all the help I can get."

"You're pretty pig-headed at times, though," retorted Ginny, though she was smiling slightly now. "Leave Mum to me." She placed a leaf in Harry's hair playfully and stuck her tongue out at him.

He grabbed a handful of leaves and threw them at her. "We match," he replied, grinning as the leaves stuck to her hair and clothes.

"Ugh!" Ginny grabbed a larger handful and leapt at Harry, stuffing them down his shirt. "You're terrible! This is a new shirt!"

"Well you shouldn't have worn it near me, then," said Harry a wink. Ginny pretended to be scandalized, then got up.

"Come on. Mum'll be wondering where we've gone."

And as they headed back to the Burrow, a thought popped into Harry's mind that both relieved him and made him uncomfortable. Ginny hadn't mentioned their break up at all. Did that mean she was over him?

Somehow, that thought, that she could be over him and therefore be much safer, didn't make him as happy as he should have been.