Harry Potter and Unexpected Beginnings

Chapter Eight

Harry lay on the bed beside Ginny, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist. He had cried himself into exhaustion, and had finally laid down only after a great deal of insistence on her part. She lay there listening to his steady breathing, feeling the warmth of his breath against her cheek. The ideas of what this boy must have to endure daily, was more then she could comprehend. She had known him since the summer before she entered Hogwarts, and had always heard Ron talking about their adventures, but unlike her brother, Ginny was more concerned of the lasting effects those adventures had on Harry.

Ginny drifted off to sleep shortly after midnight, dreams of fighting Dementors, played out behind her eyes. She saw herself running beside Harry, his hand wrapped securely within hers, the Forbidden Forest looming ahead of them. As they ran closer, she could see the shimmering image of a portal and felt a sudden urge to run toward it. Harry was beside her, trying to pull her away from it, but she couldn't go with him. She could hear the voices calling to her from the other side, beckoning her toward them.

"Ginny, no," Harry was pleading with her. "Don't leave me, please don't go." Ginny turned to look at him and saw the sadness in his eyes. Turning back, Ginny saw people standing by the portal. She recognized one of the images as Cedric Diggory, then the image of a man stepped from the shimmer. He looked like Harry, but slightly older, the same messy black hair, the same glasses. He was holding onto the hand of a woman with reddish hair. She was beautiful and Ginny saw the eyes she had grown to love; they were Harry's eyes. She turned to Harry and saw him transfixed on the people, stepping slowly toward them. Ginny's heart began to race. What was happening? A sense of fear echoed in her mind. She tightened her grip on his hand and tried to stop him, but he kept walking. She could still hear the voices calling, but they had changed and were now calling to him. She turned back but the shimmering object had disappeared, and in its replace was a black curtain, blowing violently in the wind that had suddenly come up.

The others had vanished and Harry's eyes were transfixed on the image of Sirius. He had stepped out from the curtain and was calling to Harry. Ginny tried to stop him, but he released her hand and stepped forward, as though in a trance. Ginny was horrified, how could she stop him. She tried to move, but her feet wouldn't budge. She looked down and saw the ground she stood on, growing up around her feet, limbs and roots wrapping themselves around her legs, reaching up and snatching her hands. She was being held back from, she had no choice but to watch as Harry and Sirius walked together through the curtain and disappeared. The skies opened up and rain began to pour down. Ginny heard a cold hissing laugh echo all around her, and she screamed.

"Ginny, wake up," a voice was calling to her. She opened her eyes, feeling the moisture run down her cheeks. The sensation of warmth circled around her, and she suddenly realized she was being held. "It's all right," Harry was saying, pulling her closer to him, smoothing her hair down her back, holding her tightly.

"Harry, it was awful," she cried, burying her face in his shoulder. "We were in the Forbidden Forest, and there were people everywhere. Cedric was there and a man that looked like you with a woman who had red hair, and then Sirius walked out from behind a black curtain and you went back in with him, and..."

"Shh, Ginny, it was just a dream. Sirius isn't coming back." Ginny pulled back and looked up into his green eyes, seeing his own sorrow, mixed with a tint of compassion and love.

"I was so scared," she told him through deep sobs, as he wiped the tears from her face. "I couldn't move, the ground grew held me back, and all I could do was watch you, walk away from me."

"It was just a dream, Ginny," Harry told her with a smile. "I'll never walk away from you, and I know Sirius isn't coming back. He's gone and I can't do anything about it."

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Ginny fell back into his arms, as they just lay there, holding each other until sleep finally won out again.

It was nearly noon, by the time Harry stretched his stiff muscles and opened his eyes. He looked around the room, recognizing where he was. He looked to where Ginny had slept next to him, the imprint of her body still on the covers, the pillow holding the impression of her head. He couldn't believe that everything that happened yesterday and then last night, had been done in a single day. He had fallen in love, was confronted with his godfather's death, challenged Snape to a duel, and fell asleep in the arms of the girl he now considered his. She would always be there for him, and he would never do anything to make her regret it. With a sigh, Harry thought about the love in his life, and shifted reluctantly to his loss. He knew with a deep sense of grief that Sirius truly wasn't coming home. But somehow it didn't seem to hurt as much as it had last night. Then, he had felt alone and lost. Today, knowing that he had Ginny, he felt that he could do whatever was required of him, and actually make it through.

The door to the dimly lit room opened slowly, and he looked up to see the image of the girl who had occupied most of his dreams, step quietly in, a silver tray in her hands. She tiptoed over to the bed, as Harry quietly shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He heard her set the tray on the nightstand, then reach down and brush the hair from his face. With a sly smirk, he reached up and grabbed her around the shoulders, pulling her down to the mattress, as she yelped in surprise. He was laughing at the expression of surprise on her face.

"You rat," she scolded. "I thought you were still sleeping."

"That was the whole idea," he chuckled, kissing her cheek gently. "Sleep well?" he asked, knowing she hadn't. A blush crept up her delicate features, as she lowered her eyes. "It was just a dream, Ginny," he told her, leaning over her and capturing her lips with his. He kissed her deeply, feeling the tension leave her tiny frame. "Does that feel real to you?" he asked her when they parted. Ginny smiled brightly.

"If it wasn't real, then I don't ever want to experience anything else." Harry chuckled again, rolling over and sitting up, smelling the aroma of food. His stomach gave a hearty growl and he looked at the girl, a blush tinting his own face. "Hungry?" she asked, setting up on the bed and reaching for the tray.

"I forgot about dinner, last night," he answered, accepting the tray of food and eagerly beginning to eat. Ginny watched as he started to devour the meal, amazement etching her honey brown eyes.

"If Ron saw you eating like that, he'd be jealous," she teased him, receiving a sideways glance from the boy.

"Nobody can eat like Ron," Harry said over the food he stuffed in his mouth. Ten minutes later, the platter of kidney and steak pie was gone, as were the home baked potatoes, steamed carrots and treacle pudding. He drained the last few drops of pumpkin juice from the small pitcher, before looking contentedly back to the red haired girl beside him.

"Full?" she asked, watching him wipe his mouth on the napkin.

"For now, I suppose," he answered, looking at her with a sly grin. "When's dinner?" Ginny laughed happily, removing the tray from his lap, before occupying the abandoned spot herself. She sat boldly across his legs, holding them down as she reached up and kissed his lips, tasting the remnants of pumpkin juice on his mouth. He groaned softly, and then broke the kiss with a deep blush.

"I think I should shower," he told her, easing her off his lap, reluctantly.

"All right. Then I'll see you downstairs when you're done." Harry nodded, staying where he was, watching her leave the room. He didn't exactly know what had just happened, but as she sat on his lap, a very strong physical reaction occurred, and he had the urge to do things he had no idea he'd even wanted to do. With a shake of his head, Harry stood up from the bed, adjusting the jeans he wore, around the sudden and very obvious result of her recent position.

Half an hour later, Harry had finished his shower and was heading out of the bathroom, a chill running along his arms from the cold shower he had taken, when he nearly ran head on into the girl who had forced him into the cold shower in the first place.

"Guess what?" she asked, her face flushed with excitement. Harry frowned at the girl, as she continued without catching her breath. "Bill and Charlie are coming home. They'll be here in a few minutes. Come on, I don't want to miss their arrival." She grabbed Harry's hand and bolted down the stairs, dragging the boy behind her. Harry smiled at the thought of the two oldest Weasley boys visit. He really liked them and always enjoyed their visits. Harry also knew, how much Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loved their visits, especially after the horrible way their third son, Percy, had treated them over the past year.

As Ginny ran down the stairs enthusiastically, she missed the last step, running full force into the painting of Mrs. Black, knocking the coverings off of it. Instantly the old woman began shouting and screeching at them, causing he house occupants to come running. Harry picked up the embarrassed Ginny from the floor, making certain she was all right, before turning to the woman's painting.

"Filthy Mudbloods, in my house," she screeched. "Good for nothing son, allowing this to happen. How dare you contaminate my home with your worthless filth?" Harry stood up and turned on the painting, his anger building to lethal depths.

"Shut up, you old hag!" he shouted back, receiving a brief moment's silence and a look of surprise. "Never speak of Sirius in that tone of voice again. He's better than you or any of those worthless Purebloods, you call family."

"How dare you speak to me? I am the last true Black, no thanks to that worthless, filthy, Muggle loving son of mine."

"Enough!" Harry bellowed, ignoring those around him, as they tried to stop him from shouting at the enchanted painting. "Sirius is dead, you old bitch! Don't you have any feelings of that?" The painting was silent for several seconds, the look of grief etching her weathered features.

"Dead?" she whispered, astonishing those around her into silence. "My son...how?"

"Your niece, Bellatrix, killed him. Sent him through the veil." Mrs. Black looked horrified at the boy's words.

"No, not the veil. It's worse than death."

"Tell that to your niece the next time you send a house elf to betray him."

"I never!" shouted the painting.

"Liar! Kreacher betrayed Sirius to Voldemort. He was tricked into going to the Ministry by your lord and master."

"Never speak of the Dark Lord by name," growled the angry painting. "You're not worthy, you're nothing more than a Mudblood."

"I am not a Mudblood," Harry whispered in deadly calm. "I am Harry Potter." The painting gasped, as if never expecting to hear that name. "Heard of me have you? Then let's get something clear," Harry stepped up to the woman's painting as he spoke, his voice remaining calm as he confronted it. "This house is mine now, Sirius gave it to me in his will. If you don't want me using Muggle turpentine on your ugly face, I suggest you learn to keep a civil tongue in that thick skull of yours." The painting gasped, opening and closer her mouth as though wanting to speak, but not being able to form the words necessary. Harry glared at the woman's image for a few more moments, then turned to leave. He stopped short, his hand on Ginny's elbow, and turned slowly around. He took another step closer to the painting, touching its frame. The image of the old woman cringed; as though shocked by his touch, but Harry ignored it as he investigated the carvings surrounding her.

"What is it Harry," Dumbledore asked, stepping up from behind the crowd. Without a word, Harry pulled his wand out of his shirt, and pointed it at the woman, who merely smirked.

"Think you can curse me, Potter?" she asked in a voice filled with indignity. Harry ignored her, as he stepped back, feeling the others around him move aside. He stared at the carvings and concentrated deeply, his wand pointing at the painting.

"Open," he commanded in a hissing tone. The others looked on in amazement, as the woman's painting began to shake, then fell from the wall, causing the painting's occupant to yelp as she fell.

"You...you're a Parseltongue," she gasped as realization struck her, her painting free from its perch, leaning against the wall haphazardly. Harry ignored her comment, and walked toward her, pushing the large heavy painting aside. Those witness to the event, stared on in shock, when Harry revealed a secret door. He looked at the handle, seeing the same snake designs that had been engraved around the woman's painting. He again held out his wand and hissed. The bolts to the door's interior sounded, and the door swung open.

"I don't believe it," whispered Lupin, turning to look at Moody. "Didn't you see this room?" Moody shook his head.

"It must have been hidden with very dark magic, even I couldn't detect." Moody was amazed and embarrassed at the fact that there was something hiding inside the house, that he couldn't see with his magic eye.

Harry pulled the door open wide, raising his wand and whispering, "Lumos." The end of his wand began to glow, lighting the large closet sized room beyond. He stepped through the opening, brushing the cobwebs aside. Seeing the large rat sized spider scurry under the table, he turned back to Ron.

"Don't come in yet," he warned him, watching as Ron backed up two stairs. He leaned down and saw the spider's eyes shining out at him from beneath the old, weathered table. The spider immediately tried to escape its hiding place, but Harry was too quick. "Arania Exumai," he shouted, watching the spider flip to it's back at the foot of the stairs. Ron looked on in horror, his face ashen, his eyes round. Lupin stepped forward, wrapping his cape around the insect and leaving the room.

"Stay out of there," screeched Mrs. Black's painting. "That is not for the likes of you. Only the Dark Lord may enter. Why are you a Parseltongue? You're going to ruin everything. How did you figure out my secret?"

"Hey, Harry," Fred called to him, stopping him from returning to the room. "What do you say we get rid of the old bat, now that she's off the wall?"

"Sure, whatever," Harry said, turning to return to the hidden room.

"Abscondere," George said, raising his wand at the old painting. Instantly a thick canvas cover appeared, and wrapped around the painting. They listened to the old woman shout her complaints, as the twins picked her up.

"Where do you want us to put this, Mr. Potter?" Fred teased, looking back to Harry who was looking at the objects on the dusty old shelves. Harry looked back and smiled.

"The cellar should be good. She is after all, found of the dark side." George and Fred chuckled on their way down the hall to the door that led to the cellar.

"No, you can't go in there," shouted the muffled voice of the annoying painting. "It's not for you, it's for the Dark Lord, stay out...stay out!" The door to the cellar slammed shut, as the twins and the painting disappeared from the upper level.

"Look at all this stuff," Hermione said, stepping in behind Harry, followed close behind by everyone but Ron, who was still eyeing the cobwebs clinging to the walls and doorframe. "I've never seen any of these ingredients listed in any book I've ever read."

"That's because they are used only for very dark magic, Miss Granger," Snape said, stepping up behind them. "Most of them are illegal, and for good reason."

"Why did she say that this was meant only for the Dark Lord?" Tonks asked, picking up a large bottle of ground pixie livers.

"You don't think he knows about Grimmauld Place, do you?" Ron asked, cautiously edging in the room.

"It's very unlikely, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, as the others moved aside and allowed the old man to enter the room. "If Voldemort had known about this house, he would have already done what was necessary to find it. I believe, Mrs. Black set up this room while he was in exile, and never lived to see him return to power. The house was moved and special charms placed on it, to prevent unwanted visitors."

"Look at these books, Harry," Ginny said, stepping to the shelves and picking up the old, fragile books. Harry stepped to her side, and scanned the bindings of several books. They were all old and filled with dust and cobwebs.

"Administration of Deadly Curses," Ginny read aloud. "Torture in the Dark Ages, Beyond Death, Remember the Pain. I can't believe all of these. They're horrible."

"Look at these spells," Hermione said, turning the pages of a book and peering inside at the disfigured, tortured image of a man. "What kind of a person would do something like this, to another living soul?"

"Voldemort," Harry said, replacing the book he held to the shelf, and turning around. There were a total of forty-two shelves, all filled with antique and rare spells of Dark Arts, with the worst kind of ingredients known to mankind. There was Horntail Venom, Powdered Phoenix Heart, Unicorn Blood, and Crushed Mermaid's Scales, just to name a few. All items used in the darkest magic.

"There's a fortune of illegal contraband here," Mr. Weasley said in amazement.

"We'll need a full inventory of everything," Dumbledore announced, heading toward the door.

"I'll do it Headmaster," Snape offered, receiving a glare from Harry and Ron.

"Feeling at home here, are we Snape?" Harry asked boldly.

"It is only logical that I should be the one to record these items, since I am the Positions Master," Snape replied in a cold tone. "I know in which order these should be stored. If they are placed together incorrectly, Mr. Potter, they can release curses on anyone who comes near. If you had paid attention in my class a little more, you would have known that."

"If I had paid attention in your class, I would have seen a lot more than you would have liked, a long time ago."

"What are you insinuating, Potter?" Harry stood toe to toe with the greasy haired wizard.

"You know exactly what I'm insinuating," he said, causing a silence to build up around the small group. "I don't trust you, I don't like you, and if it were up to me, you'd have been in Azkaban years ago."

"Harry, Severus, that's quite enough," Dumbledore interrupted. "Harry, I'd like to speak with you alone for a moment, please." Harry and Snape stood silent for several long minutes, staring at each other, until Ginny grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him out the door to where the Headmaster waited. "Will you wait for us in the other room please, Miss Weasley?" he asked, looking over the rim of his half moon glasses. Ginny nodded, and then glanced to Harry, seeing the anger still lingering in his green eyes.

Dumbledore led Harry into the sitting room, taking a seat in the wingback chair and motioning to Harry to sit down. He did as ordered and waited patiently for the old wizard to begin. The room was silent and warm, and Harry found it uncomfortable after only a few seconds.

"I know I shouldn't have spoken to Snape like I did," Harry began.

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected.

"I know you trust him, sir, but I don't. He's never shown any sign of goodness, he's as evil as Voldemort, and as black hearted."

"Harry, Professor Snape is one of us," Dumbledore began, watching as Harry stood and paced to the fireplace.

"How can you say that? He's a Death Eater. He's one of them."

"No Harry, he is not. Please sit down." Dumbledore waited until he had sat, then folded his fingers together as he continued. "I can not divulge a confidence, if Professor Snape wished for you to know his story, he would tell you. What I can tell you is that he was influenced at a young age. After seeing the horror involved in his decision, he came back, but not until after he lost someone he cared very deeply for. When Voldemort was at his height, it was Professor Snape who chose to infiltrate his circle and bring us back information. He was nearly killed for his decision, and he has a price on his head, even today." Dumbledore paused, watching Harry digest the information, before continuing.

"I know you think Professor Snape hates you Harry, but it simply is not true. He admires you, very highly."

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked, looking at the old wizard as if he had just sprouted horns and a tail. "You aren't there in class, or in the halls when he sees me, or Ron or Hermione. He hates all of the Gryffindors. The only one he is even slightly considerate to, is Ferret-Faced Malfoy." Dumbledore stifled a laugh, covering it up with a cough.

"What do you think would happen, if Voldemort were to learn of Snape's trust in you?" Harry thought for a few minutes.

"I suppose Snape would be in more danger, than he already is."

"Yes Harry. There is danger lurking in every alley and around every corner. Voldemort is uncertain of what to think regarding Professor Snape. He's being told that Snape is loyal to him, by other Death Eaters who know him. This may be to our advantage, someday. Harry, we all have faith in you, we believe in you and we're all willing to back you up, even Professor Snape."

"He blames me for the trouble my father and Sirius caused him in school, you can't deny that."

"I will not deny it. Your father was a good student and an even better friend. He and your mother meant a great deal to me, to all of us. Sirius was a prankster, he liked to play tricks and have fun, much like the young Weasley twins. Professor Lupin was the sensible one, the serious one. He was the one who kept Sirius and James's feet on firm ground. During all their years in school, it was Professor Snape they liked to torment, more Sirius than your father. At first your father rarely gave Sirius a second glance, but then when your mother came into the picture, he felt it necessary to fight for her attentions."

"Fight for her? With whom?" Harry stared at Dumbledore, then turned a wide eye expression to him. "Snape? My mother had a crush on Snape?" Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"Your mother was the brightest student in Hogwarts. I haven't seen a student like her, until Miss Granger. She was always helping others, if there were a student who needed tutoring; Lily Evans was the one to offer a helping hand. Severus Snape was one such occasion. They spent a great deal of time together in the library. I think Severus developed an attraction to her at that time, but since she was a Muggle born, his father would never have allowed him to take it any further. But then your mother had very serious eyes on a young Gryffindor seeker. It was during their seventh year at school, that things began to turn dark. Voldemort was gaining power, and converting every Pureblooded wizard and witch he could find."

"And Snape was one of them." Dumbledore didn't answer, he simply looked at Harry.

"You must understand how difficult it is for Professor Snape to show any signs of affection. He closed his heart years ago, and has yet to reopen it." Harry was silent for several moments, staring at the worn carpet as he considered all the old wizard had told him.

"I suppose I shouldn't have been so hard on him, but I still don't trust him. He's mean spirited and evil, at least to anyone Gryffindor." Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"Old wounds run deep," he mumbled softly. "I'm not asking you to invite him dinner in your dormitory, Harry, just try and be a little lenient. He really does have faith in you. Perhaps he's a little jealous of the closeness you and your friends have. I'm sure he may even take his anger of the way James and Sirius treated him out on you, but patience will prevail."

"If you say so, Professor. Just don't expect me to shake his hand or anything." Dumbledore stood, laughing as he reached for Harry, patting him on the back.

"I daresay, I do not expect miracles in that area."