Mother Knows Best

Chapter 12

Halloween

In his dream, Harry was back in the strange house that was his home again. It was day this time, and he was trying very hard to ignore horrible screams coming from the next room. A woman was screaming as if someone was trying to murder her, but Harry knew she wasn't being harmed. Still, it was upsetting to hear her cries ring out louder and louder, and then collapse into great sobs. He sighed in frustration.

"What the hell are you doing to her??!!" A young Lucius Malfoy had just arrived in a group of Harry's minions. He rushed towards the room the screams were originating from.

"Calm yourself, Malfoy." Harry said in an icy tone while blocking Malfoy's path."I have done nothing to your 'fair enchantress.'" Malfoy reddened and stared at Harry in shock. He opened his mouth to ask Harry how he'd known, but Harry answered him before he spoke. "Oh, yes, I know that's how you think of her. You've grown quite fond of that 'thing' you couldn't identify as female two weeks ago." Harry was careful not to let bitterness creep into his voice. He wasn't even certain Malfoy realised he'd found favour with his 'enchantress,' and Harry certainly wasn't going to let on that he knew it, let alone that it bothered him. "She is having visions. They are overwhelming her at the moment, and it is pushing the limits of her sanity. Once they subside, she will no doubt be fine, and then we will have a wealth of insight into our operations' outcomes. I have been waiting for her visions to end, but I grow tired of waiting; I want you to take turns watching, and inform me the minute she becomes quiet."

"What if she never stops getting these visions?" Malfoy asked in a rather challenging tone.

"Unlikely. However, we shall deal with that eventuality when and if we come to it.

"How long has she been like this?" Malfoy asked.

"Nearly two days. Sort out who will be taking which watch; I'm going out."

It was several more days before the visions finally stopped. Harry returned immediately. He listened through the door to check and make sure the woman was awake, and then knocked. "Come in," said a voice that had been rendered hoarse from screaming.

Harry opened the door. It was only from comparison to how she had looked when she had arrived that the woman now looked well: she now had skin, though she still had burn scars on most of her body. In the few short weeks she had been with Harry, her hair had grown back to its usual length: well past her shoulders. Her hair was now matted and sweaty, and Harry could only see one eye peering though it. She was wearing a nightshirt that was too big for her, so that it exposed one of her badly scarred shoulders. She was shaking from head to toe, and looked all-in-all like she should be sitting in an insane asylum. Malfoy gasped when he saw her and flew to her side. She clutched to him as a child might. "The visions have stopped then?" Harry asked. She merely nodded in response. "What can you tell me about my plans?"

"Leave us," she instructed Harry's minions. Malfoy looked at her meaning fully, but she dismissed him, as well. The woman beckoned Harry close. "Tom," she said, her voice filled with urgency, "I think I've seen everything up to about thirty years into the future, maybe forty. I have seen everything you will do. You will rise to great heights of power..." she trailed off.

"Yes?" Harry sat down next to her, eager to hear more.

"Please Tom; you must stop this, before it's too late! If you don't, it will be your downfall!"

"What are you talking about? You just said I was going to rise to great power!"

"Yes, at first. But then you will become over-confident, and arrogant, and a single act will be your downfall!"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Preposterous! I am the greatest wizard alive! Me, left powerless? Impossible!"

"I have seen it! Tom, you are going to lose everything! Your 'loyal minions' will abandon and denounce you. You will be left alone and helpless."

"Very interesting..." Harry said, feigning belief. "Come now, Lucy, do you honestly expect me tobelieve something that far-fetched, especially when I know you disapprove of what I am doing?"

"Tom, please, listen to me! I know this is all going to happen!" Harry sniffed incredulously in response. "Tom, if you don't do as I say, then I will not help you when fall from power."

Harry laughed. "That's not much of a threat, considering it will never going to happen."

"Fine." There was definite annoyance in the woman's voice. "I'm too damn tired to argue with you right now, anyway." With that, she laid back down on the bed and rolled over, so as to be facing away from Harry. Harry humphed and left the room.

* * *

Even though the dream wasn't really upsetting, Harry awoke in a sweat: he did not like being inside of Voldemort's head under any circumstances. He dressed and went to go find Professor McGonagall, as the Order would probably want to know about this latest dream. Upon hearing that Harry had had another dream, professor McGonagall used Floo Powder to let Dumbledore know what had happened, and he in turn instructed Professor McGonagall to come right away. Professor McGonagall rushedHarry into the headmaster's office, where Dumbledore listened attentively as Harry described his latest dream.

When Harry had finished, Dumbledore sat thinking for a moment, then asked, "Harry, was this the same woman as before?"

"Well, she was so badly injured the first time, no one would have recognised her, but in the dream I knew her, and yes, I'm pretty sure this was the same woman."

"Do you have any idea who the woman in these dreams is?" Dumbldore asked seriously.

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort never mentioned her name, and I've never seen her face."

Dumbledore sat thinking for again. "Harry, these dreams you're having may yet prove invaluable. It is for this reason that I have decided that you should not use Occlumency. However, it is still important for you to tell the difference between what you are sent on purpose, and what you catch by accident." Dumbledore got up and threw some Floo Powder in the fireplace. "Lucy O'Grady," he instructed the green flames. "Miss O'Grady, could you come to my office, please?"

"Yo." Harry jumped, as did the others. The voice hadn't come from the fire, but right in the room. Lucy was standing behind them.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Professor McGonagall grumbled.

Lucy shrugged. "'Sup?" she asked (or at least, Harry assumed it was a question; he wasn't positive).

"I need you to show Harry how to tell the difference between his thoughts and those sent to him telepathically."

Lucy paused for a second. "Uh, sure, I can try, no guarantees if he doesn't have the talent, though, ... why?"

"Did you know that Harry shares a telepathic link with Voldemort, Miss O'Grady?"

Lucy turned to Harry as if struck with a sudden realisation."Is that why you keep rubbing at your scar all the time? Geez, why don't you people tell me these things?" Lucy grumbled to herself and conjured a crystal and a piece of some sort of fine cord. She muttered something, making the crystal glow, then tied the cord to the crystal and handed it to Harry."Here, put this on." Harry took the crystal and placed the cord over his head."You'll have to put it under your shirt, so it comes in contact with your skin."

Harry dropped the crystal under his shirt and gasped."My scar-!" he said, too shocked to say more.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, does it?" Lucy asked. Harry shook his head. Lucy smiled,"the crystal is bewitched to block telepathic activity; it blocks both incoming and outgoing images. You might feel a bit lonely for a while; that's common for people who maintain constant telepathic communication. You'll need to wear that crystal for at least a week: you need to get used to this 'quiet' state in order to be able to tell the difference between your thoughts and someone else's. That's the first step. Once I've tested you to make sure you can tell others' thoughts from yours, I'll try and teach you how to control what comes in or out, and when." Harry nodded. "OK, I'll check up on you in a week. Now get down to the Great Hall, or you'll miss breakfast!" Lucy slapped him on the arm in an amicable way, as if urging him out.

Harry turned and left, but stopped outside the door, catching a bit of a conversation between Lucy and Dumbledore. "Are you trying to ply that poor boy for information?" Lucy asked Dumbledore accusingly.

"Yes, we need all the information we can get." Dumbledore answered frankly.

"Well, from now on, why don't you just come to me, and leave that kid out of this?" KID??!! Harry took exception to the term.

"Because I cannot be certain as to what you are willing to disclose, and even if you tell us everything, a different perspective is always useful."

Lucy made an annoyed sound. "Well thank God Tom isn't remembering the time he walked in on us," she said somewhat sarcastically.

"Us?" Dumbledore asked with mild curiosity.

"NEVERMIND!" Lucy sounded embarrassed. The conversation had stopped making sense, so Harry went down to breakfast.

Down in the dining hall, Harry told Hermione, Ron and Ginny what had happened in Dumbledore's office. Ginny had become very stubborn in insisting Harry tell her everything he told Ron and Hermione, so Harry had eventually given in: he included her in nearly all his discussions now. Everyone was visibly relieved when he told them about the crystal Lucy had given him. Hermione was the only one who seemed to know what Lucy had been talking about after Harry had left, but she went very red when Harry asked her about it, told him it was none of their business and quickly changed the subject. "How long have you been getting nightmares?"

"I haven't had one like these since last summer; this is only the second one I've had." Harry had a more pressing question on his mind. "Since when is Lucy on a first-name basis with Voldemort?"

Hermione thought for a moment."I don't know: from what you said, these memories you've been getting are over twenty years old, as Mr. Weasley told you. Lucy doesn't look a day over twenty, though I do wonder how she could have all those diplomas when she's so young." She shook her head, "Lucy doesn't seem to harbour a whole lot of respect for Voldemort -you told us she thinks that name is silly, and you know how he hates his real name. Perhaps it's some way of being disrespectful, in order to make him that much less intimidating? I really don't know..." Hermione shook her head again.

Harry was considering just going and asking Lucy about what he'd heard, even at the risk of her disappointment, which was just as bad as any punishment she might give him. He decided it wasn't worth it. Harry picked up on what his fellow Gryffindors were talking about, and it seemed to centre around visiting the Americans at The Two Broomsticks. Harry had a hard time imagining all the interested students actually managing to get inside; he could picture a queue stretching halfway down Hogsmeade's main street. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and enjoyed his pain-free scar and wonderfully clear mind.

* * *

The Hallowe'en Feast was now only a few days away, as was the year's first Hogsmeade visit. The Hogwarts students were abuzz about both. In keeping with American tradition, Lucy and the Scoobies were planning to dress up for Hallowe'en, but Lucy was being very secretive about what costumes everyone was wearing. All of the students who were old enough to go to Hogsmeade were all talking about their plans for what they were going to buy at Zonko's and Honeyduke's.

The thrill of Hogsmeade had worn off a bit for Harry; it brought back painful memories about Sirius. Harry was suffering from not having an outlet for his grief. Harry sometimes talked to Grassleaf, and Grassleaf would talk to Harry about his homesickness. But lately, Grassleaf had become very sleepy and disinclined to eat. He said that it was because winter was coming, and that Grassleaf would soon have to retreat to a cave to sleep out the winter. Furthermore, the rest of the sixth-year boys found Harry talking to Grassleaf to be very unsettling, so Harry was restricted to talking to Grassleaf when they were alone.

It was soon Friday, and the Hallowe'en Feast was that evening. Harry was just coming out of his weekly torture session with Snape and the Slytherin students, when he heard screams from down the hall. He soon heard students running away yelling "Snake! SNAKE!!" Grassleaf, Harry thought, groaning. He slipped into the mob of students, looking for Grassleaf and trying to think of how to remove the little snake from this mess without getting a detention from Snape, who couldn't be far behind.

Harry worked his way through the crowd of screaming students until he found himself at the edge of a twelve-foot radius encircling a very confused-looking Grassleaf. As Harry was pondering how to extricate his friend, he heard Lucy come up to the crowd. "Oh for Pete's sake! What is all this ruckus about?" She pushed her way through the assembled and panicked students. "Oh no," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, as soon as she saw the source of the commotion, "it's a man-eating garter snake! C'mere little fella," Lucy crouched down and beckoned to Grassleaf.

"Back to class! All of you!" Harry heard Snape order as he stormed towards the melee. "-not you, Potter," Snape grabbed Harry's arm as he tried to sneak off with the rest of the students.

Lucy was now cradling Grassleaf and talking to him the way Hermione talked to Crookshanks. "...those mean kids, scaring you like that, what'd you ever do to them? Nuffin!" She stood up and shot Snape with an annoyed look. "Overreact much?" Harry had noticed Lucy frequently slid into "California Speak," as Harry called it, whenever she was annoyed. Her jargon was second only to Buffy's.

Snape didn't answer (there was a good chance he had no idea what Lucy had just said, anyway), he just stared in utter revulsion as Lucy stroked Grassleaf lovingly. "Are you in the habit of hauling students around by the arm for no particular reason?" she asked Snape frostily.

"No," Snape answered curtly, "but seeing as Potter no doubt released that snake for a purpose I will soon discover, I'm not very concerned of making a habit of it."

Lucy scoffed. "Unless Harry has figured out a way to get to North America, get into a swamp, find and catch a very speedy and well-camouflaged garter snake and get back unnoticed, I find it rather unlikely he has anything to do with this."

"Andy why, pray tell, would he have to go across the ocean to get a snake?"

"He wouldn't have to go there to get a snake, but he would have had to do so to get this snake; they're not indigenous to the Old World."

"And what makes you think he didn't pick it up in a local pet store?"

"Because it has ticks," Lucy answered, extending Grassleaf to show Snape. In sheer revulsion, Snape dropped Harry's hand and backed away several steps.

"Very, well, you deal with this," Snape said, swooping off in his usual bat-like manner.

Lucy gestured for Harry to follow him with her head, as she was still holding Grassleaf with both hands. Harry had a sinking feeling he was still in trouble, and that Lucy had only gotten rid of Snape in order to give him a more just punishment herself (and possibly to spite Snape, they didn't seem to like each other very much). Harry follwed quickly and quietly for fear of provoking Lucy further. Once they reached the office, Lucy beckoned him in and closed the door. She sat behind the desk in the same casual way she always did.

Lucy shot Harry with a very piercing look than said, "I don't think you have anything to do with this little guy getting into the dungeon, but I do think you have something to do with this. Care to tell me what?" So Harry told Lucy how he'd met Grassleaf, and all the effort he, Ron and Hermione had been putting into finding out where Grassleaf came from with no success.

"Thamnopsis Sirtalis, 'the pretty snake.' Indigenous to marshlands east of the Great Prairie and south of James Bay. Their preferred prey is amphibians, and in winter, garter snakes in more northern climates converge by the hundreds in large subterranean pits to pass away the cold months." Lucy rattled off as if she were a talking textbook. "-Which explains what he was doing down in the dungeon; he was probably looking for a place to hibernate."

As pleased as Harry was to finally learn where Grassleaf was from, he hadn't he faintest idea how he would get him back there. Harry looked sadly at Grassleaf, who was now asleep in Lucy's arm.

Lucy noticed Harry's disappointment. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be glad to know where this little guy is from," she probed carefully.

"I am glad, but don't know exactly where he came from, let alone how to get him back there," Harry explained dismally.

"Hmm," Lucy thought for a moment, "Well, these ticks might help us narrow down the area in question, is there anything else you can tell me bout the area he's from, or how he got across the Atlantic?" So Harry repeated everything Grassleaf had told him. Once again, Lucy listened carefully throughout and sat pensively for a while after Harry had finished.

I tell you what, Harry, I have to go back to California during the Christmas break to take care of a few things; I'll take this guy with me and drop him off wherever he needs to go."

"Would you? I'm sure he'd appreciate it," Harry tried to sound enthusiastic, but his heart sank. He looked over sadly at the creature who had become his confidant: Grassleaf was sleeping soundly in Lucy's arms, blissfully unaware of how close he was to going home.

Lucy picked up on Harry's chagrin. "What's the matter?"

Harry explained, "I'm sure he'll be much happier once he's home, but I'll miss him terribly."

"Well, Grassleaf isn't going to be much company for the next few months; he'll be hibernating."

"I know, but still..."

"Well, how about I take him back in June instead? It will probably be less of a shock for him, anyway." Harry nodded emphatically. "All right. Now get out of here," Lucy said in an affectionate sort of way, "I'm sure you have better things to do than chat with me all day."

* * *

That night, quite a few students joined Lucy and the Americans in dressing up. Harry saw doctors and policemen and nurses and even a lawyer or two. It appeared the students had had help with their costumes, as the lawyers kept saying things like "my client has no comments" and "objection, your honour!" Harry's attention was drawn to Lucy, who was making delighted noises as she fussed over one of the students' costumes. Harry gaped when he saw who it was: Draco Malfoy. He was wearing a long-haired wig with a headband, tinted glasses, a shirt with an embroidered collar, a buckskin vest, wide leg hemp pants, open-toed sandals and, to top everything off, a necklace of large wooden beads. The pleasant, earthy tones of the clothing seemed to clash violently with Malfoy's personality. If he'd lived to be a hundred years old, Harry would never had believed Malfoy would ever wear anything so outrageous. Yet here he was, not only wearing it, but smiling and letting Lucy take pictures of him.

"That costume is so cute!" Lucy squealed. "You make the most adorable little hippie! We have to send a picture to your parents!" Lucy was wearing an old-fashioned dress that looked to be at least two hundred years old, and it had a bloodstain directly underneath a frightful scar on her right shoulder. Buffy was sporting a similar outfit, except her dress was more modern. Harry found the outfits to be a bit eerie, even for Halloween. Willow was wearing a cheap witch costume, and was drawing a lot of confused questions from students who weren't very familiar with Muggle Halloween traditions, while Mr. Giles was wearing his usual tweed suit, but was carrying a wooden steak and had a name tag that said 'Hello, my name is Gustav Von Helsink.' Xander was wearing wizard robes, and looked decidedly out of character in them.

"Hey there! No costume?" Buffy greeted Harry.

"No, I wasn't really in the mood."

"Fair enough. I've been leery of costumes ever since the year this evil warlock named Ethan Rayne bewitched a bunch of them to turn the wearer into whatever the costume was. I turned into a helpless eighteenth century lady and was nearly killed by a vampire."

"Someone else wearing a costume?"

"No, real vampire. Guy named Spike; he really wanted to make a name for himself by killing me. Obviously, the never did. In fact, he hung around me for so long he went good! We were actually together for a while." Buffy laughed.

"So, what are you supposed to be?" Harry asked, indicating the costume.

"Me, actually. This is the dress I wore the first time I...well..." Buffy rubbed the scars on her neck. "The first time a vampire ever managed to bite me, anyway."

It took a moment for what Buffy was saying to sink in. "...you've been dead more than once?"

"Yeah, I had to dig myself out of my own grave the second time. Plus which, I think I was in Heaven before...waking up in a coffin came as an awful shock. That wasn't the best day I've ever had."

"I can only imagine." Harry was getting very uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Look, take it from me; after all I've seen and done, after all I've been through, the worst I've suffered was high school. Believe me, if you can get through school, you can get through anything."

Harry looked at Buffy in utter disbelief. "Have you ever...lost someone close to you? Like a parent?"

Buffy nodded. "That comes with the territory, I'm afraid. My mom died a few years back; she had an aneurism after surgery on a brain tumour. I was so angry afterwards...for a very long time. Angry that she's just leave me to take care of everything alone. My life was a mess, and I did a lot of stupid things -Spike being somewhere at the top of the list. You'll have to excuse the pun." Harry shook is head in confusion. "Never mind. The thing is, no matter how bad things may get, no matter what stupid stuff you do, you're never alone. All you have to do is look around, and there are people who can help you carry whatever's weighing you down. It's obvious that you've got a lot on your mind, but you shouldn't keep it to yourself. Keeping that sort of thing inside is toxic, and you'll just end up making things harder for yourself in the long run."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Buffy."

"I'm happy to help."

That night, Harry got a lot of things off his chest, and was surprised at how supportive Ron, Hermione and Ginny were of everything he had to say. And for the first time in a very long time, Harry went to bed looking forward to a good night's sleep.