Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

Because Harry was running while Sirius was walking, it didn't take long to close the distance between them. As Harry ran, he extinguished the fire he carried--it was too much trouble to run with, and he could always conjure another one. He had just got within earshot of Sirius, and was about to call out, when he suddenly noticed that Sirius wasn't alone. There was another figure standing motionless in the shadow of the forest, a short distance in front of Sirius. Apparently Harry and Cho hadn't been the only ones to leave the ball for the lakeshore; but who would dare to venture this close to the Forbidden Forest alone, at night? Surely not a student.

Ahead of him, Sirius transfigured into his human form. "Persephone."

Instinctively, Harry took two steps sideways and ducked into the forest to avoid being seen. If he had realized that Sirius was coming outside to speak to Professor Green, he would never have followed him. Now that he had followed, he wanted to get away undetected: he would simply walk just inside the edge of the forest until he was far enough away that Sirius and Professor Green wouldn't see him, then he would head for the castle. He turned around to begin walking, and heard a horrible ripping sound.

He'd stepped right into a briar patch.

Harry froze, then carefully felt the edges of his robes where they had torn. Fortunately, they had only ripped a little; but they were still badly tangled with the thorns. Not only that, but the entire lower half of his dress robes were snagged--all the way up to the waist. He felt along the folds of soft fabric, pricking his fingers repeatedly. If he tried to pull away, a large section of his robes would likely tear off. He shuddered at the thought, and wished that Hermione were around--she knew a good Detangling Charm that she had never bothered to teach him. He had never needed to know one before.

Careful not to move his robes, he knelt on a patch of bare earth at the edge of the briar patch and began carefully working the fabric free. Meanwhile, Sirius' and Professor Green's voices drifted through the trees, toward him. They weren't far away; he couldn't avoid hearing them. He tried to block them out by concentrating on freeing himself. He moved his fingers more quickly between the woody briars and the fabric of his robes--unfortunately, however, this did not speed up the process, and only succeeded in getting him some nasty scratches.

"Sirius," came Professor Green's voice. She sounded a little surprised. "Is anything wrong?"

"No," he answered. "I was just--looking for you. You weren't inside."

"No. I only stayed for a little while."

"Oh," he said quickly, sounding a little anxious. "Well, I've been thinking, and there's something I need to speak to you about."

Harry tried to stare down at his mangled robes, but they were cloaked in shadow--he could see nothing. And he didn't dare light his wand or conjure a fire, for fear of being discovered. Furtively he glanced through the brush, and saw the faces of Sirius and Professor Green in the scant moonlight. Immediately he squinted back down into the darkness.

"Can it wait? It's late--"

"Please. This isn't easy. I need you to listen to me, and not talk."

She paused for a long while, and Harry began to hope she might not respond. Maybe they would postpone this discussion until later.

"Alright."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Okay. I don't know any way of saying this, other than to just say it. I think--I love you."

Harry nearly uttered a strangled cry of shock, but caught it just in time--though he had to actually clasp his hands over his mouth to prevent it coming out. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he wouldn't be able to block this out, he knew. Cursing his unlucky talent for overhearing other people's private conversations, he gave up staring into the darkness and peered through the brush as his hands worked frantically to free him from the briar patch.

Professor Green breathed in sharply. For what seemed like ages, she didn't answer. Then, she said, "I--I love you, too. You're my best friend."

A nervous smile spread across Sirius' face. "That's not what I meant."

She regarded him solemnly, bit her lip, and spoke. "I know what you meant."

Now he looked puzzled. "You know? Then why--" His voice trailed off, as though he already knew the answer.

She looked down, and spoke very softly, but emphatically. "I'm sorry, I really am. But it's just not the same for me. I don't feel the same way."

He looked stunned for a second, but promptly smiled again. "Well, of course not. I've only just told you. You haven't had time to think about it yet--"

She shook her head and began pacing. "Yes, I have. I've known. For months! I could tell--every time I looked at you, I could see it on your face." She looked up at him for a second, then resumed pacing. Her words were quick, almost frantic, and she gestured energetically as she talked. "I've had plenty of time to think. And each time I thought about it, I reached the same conclusion." She stopped pacing and stared at him inquisitively. "Didn't you wonder why we haven't been spending as much time together lately? I know it sounds cruel, but I--" she paused as though she found this part difficult to say-- "I was avoiding you. I thought that maybe if I weren't around as much--maybe you'd lose interest."

He looked puzzled again. "Lose interest," he repeated, very quietly. "I don't understand." But he did understand. Harry knew he did, because he heard the painful note of protest in Sirius' voice.

Professor Green regarded him unhappily. "You don't become a Summoner without learning a thing or two about destiny, Sirius. And I know one thing: I'm not yours."

Sirius stared back at her blankly. "You once told me that our destiny depends on our choices."

She nodded. "That's right," she said, smiling awkwardly. "But sometimes our true choices are buried underneath the surface ones."

Sirius closed his eyes. "What on earth does that mean?"

She regarded him earnestly, and lowered her voice. "What you think is -is love--isn't. Not really. It's friendship, and proximity, and familiarity, and loneliness--"

"Wait," he interrupted. "Are you telling me that you don't believe me? Are you trying to say that I don't really love you?"

She winced. "No. I never said that--"

"Persephone. I fell in love with you, and--and you talk to me about destiny? All I know is that you are the thing in the world that makes the most sense to me."

"That's because I'm your truest friend."

Harry winced, but Sirius held her gaze levelly. "And what if that's not enough?"

She met his level gaze with her own. "It'll have to be."

"But what if it's not?" he insisted.

She didn't answer right away this time, but appeared to consider the question carefully. "Then--" her voice cracked a little-- "I suppose we can't be friends, either."

His stony expression melted into one of compassion and mild regret. "Don't cry. I'm sorry." He stepped forward and embraced her with the easy familiarity of a good friend. "But I think you're wrong about us."

Her head resting on his shoulder, Professor Green was now facing away from Sirius, toward Harry. She smiled wistfully. "No, you don't. You want me to be wrong. There's a difference."

He held her out at arm's length, and looked at her. "If there is, I can't feel it."

Quite unexpectedly, he placed one hand behind her head, leaned forward, and kissed her lightly. Harry looked down into the darkness again, furious with himself for not having worked his robes free by now. When he looked back up, they were staring at each other, Sirius with a funny, soft kind of expression Harry had never seen before.

But Professor Green's expression hadn't changed. It was the same serious, pitying look she had worn a few seconds ago. Harry pricked his thumb on a thorn roughly, but barely noticed--he was too preoccupied by the anger seething within him. This time it wasn't directed at himself, though: it was directed at Professor Green. She seemed so cruel, so indifferent.

Slowly, Sirius began to comprehend her expression. He regarded her thoughtfully.

"This isn't about me, is it?" he finally said. "It's about him."

She was nonplussed. "Who?"

"Demetrius."

She stared for a moment, mouth open in surprise. Finally, she answered, "No, it's not about him at all, believe me."

"I don't believe you," he said, and took a step closer. His voice was full of pain and understanding and compassion. "Persephone, he's been gone fourteen years."

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and held out a hand to silence him. "Stop. This conversation is over." She spoke quietly, but with a note of steely certainty. At once she turned and walked away, toward the castle.

He watched her go, mouth open as though he wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure what. When she had reached the castle steps, he transfigured himself back into the black dog, and set off around the lake in the opposite direction.

Harry's mind stung with compassion for Sirius and (though Harry had trouble formulating exactly what her fault had been) anger at Professor Green. He had had his own awkward moments with girls, but nothing like what Sirius had just endured. With a last, desperate tug, Harry finally freed himself of the briars and rushed off after him. Maybe Sirius would rather be alone, but maybe not. And if he did want to talk, so much the better; Harry did, too.

As he made his way toward Sirius, who was now ambling slowly around the lakeshore, Harry glanced sideways at the steps to the castle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Green on her way up, conversing with someone. Hoping the darkness and the distance would keep her from spotting him, Harry sped up.

He caught up with Sirius on a little hill overlooking the lakeside, about ten minutes' walk from the spot where he'd been talking with Professor Green. Sirius sat in his dog form, head on his paws, staring across the lake. It seemed a popular activity this evening, Harry thought to himself.

"Hey, Snuffles."

Sirius raised his head and licked Harry's outstretched hand morosely. Then he looked around and, seeing no one, took his usual form.

Harry was busy trying to think of a way to commiserate without admitting to eavesdropping, when Sirius spoke, saving him the trouble.

"I don't know what I expected."

Harry feigned ignorance. "What do you mean?"

Sirius shut his eyes tight and shook his head--he had changed his mind. "Don't want to talk about it." He picked up a pebble and threw it. It skipped three times on the moonlit surface of the lake, and sank.

Suddenly Sirius turned toward Harry, as if he'd just remembered something. "How was your date?"

Harry was glad it was dark; he was sure he was blushing furiously. Still, he wanted to seem casual. He shrugged. "Alright, I guess. She didn't really want to dance."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and cast him a sideways glance. "Really?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"No! I mean--she just wanted to talk. Then she went up to her common room early." He paused. "To study, probably."

They both laughed. "That's the disadvantage to having a Ravenclaw girlfriend," Sirius mused. "The advantage is, she can help you with your homework."

Harry shook his head. "No, she's not my girlfriend." He thought for a moment. "She's my friend, though."

Sirius nodded. "There seems to be a lot of that going around." He chuckled grimly as he skipped another pebble across the water. This one skimmed the surface twice before it sank.

"Let me try." Harry felt around for a flat pebble. Not finding one close by, he crawled a short distance, feeling along the ground as he went. After a few seconds, he found a small, waferlike stone. He pocketed it and turned around--to see a tall, black-robed figure walking up behind Sirius in the darkness.

Harry was stunned speechless for a moment; by the time he thought to cry out in warning, a sneering voice had issued from the tall shadow.

"I might have known."

Harry recognized the voice at once--it was Snape.

"What do you want, Snape?" Sirius asked lazily, without turning around.

"I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Green."

Harry's heart raced. Surely she hadn't told him -- ?

"I saw her coming from this direction, and she seemed a bit- distressed. But when I asked, she refused to tell me what was wrong. I decided to come and investigate for myself." Snape was standing very close by, but evidently he had no idea that Harry was present. His cold, black eyes were entirely focused on Sirius. "I might have known I would find you here, Black--"

"Go away," Sirius said dismissively.

But Snape just stood there, surveying Sirius with malice. "Conceited, arrogant Sirius Black. Sirius Black, the heartbreaker. You kiss the girls and make them cry, isn't that right?" His voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. "You haven't changed since school."

Sirius stood and faced him now. "Neither have you. You're still sticking your nose in other people's business, and you still have no idea what you're talking about."

Snape took a step toward him. "Enlighten me, then."

But Sirius just laughed and shook his head. "Is meddling in other people's affairs just a hobby or yours, or do you consider yourself a professional?"

"I'm serious, Black--"

"So am I." There was a note of menace in his voice that gave Snape pause, just long enough for Sirius to say: "I would stay and chat--but I'm afraid you're the last person I want to talk to right now. I'll be on my way."

He suddenly looked at Harry. Their eyes met for an instant, then Sirius turned back to face Snape. "I'll see you later," he growled, just before he took on his canine form and trotted off in the opposite direction.

Harry smiled; he knew that last comment was meant for him, but thankfully, Sirius had chosen not to give him away. He looked up at Snape, who stared after Sirius, fuming. Harry stood there for a moment, his feelings mirrored exactly by Snape's angry scowl. He fingered the flat stone in his pocket, imagining what advice Ron would give in this situation ("Go on, chuck it at him! He deserves it."). Then Hermione's voice came to mind ("He'll give you detention, Harry! What would be the point? Leave him alone!"). He deliberated for several long seconds before Hermione won out, and then he turned and quietly made his way back.

He walked into the entrance hall, still angry but relieved to have got away from Snape undetected. Hermione's voice had been right: considering his foul mood, he surely would have assigned Harry detention for being out-of-bounds at night, even--or perhaps especially--with Sirius present.

As he walked toward the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry heard singing--but it definitely wasn't Lee's voice. It took a moment for Harry to recognize it as Professor Green's.

He entered the room. Even as dim as it was, the light was blinding compared to the moonlight his eyes had become adjusted to. As they regained their focus, he saw differently-colored swirls moving slowly around the room. The crowd appeared to have thinned, and most of the remaining students were dancing--or trying to. The song was slow and melancholy, with an odd rhythm:

They sat near one another

At the water's edge.

I'll say "they",

Because "we" is too hard to say.

And he told her what he'd

Come so far to tell her.

With tears in her eyes, she said,

"It can't be that way."

He felt like his wells were dried.

I left the ring

Down at the waterside.

Should I tell them how we cried?

Should I tell them how you called me

Your never-bride?

And how I left the ring

Down at the waterside?

When his eyes had finally adjusted to the light, Harry noticed Ginny and Colin dancing close by, with slightly puzzled looks on their faces. Many of the students wore similar expressions; apparently they felt funny dancing to such a sad song. Suddenly Colin caught sight of Harry and began waving furiously.

"Harry! Hey, Harry!" He grabbed Ginny's hand and weaved his way through the crowd.

"Hey, Colin."

"I was just going to get us some drinks! Do you want one, Harry?"

Colin looked so eager to fetch him a drink that Harry didn't have the heart to disappoint him. "Sure."

"Great! You can talk to Ginny in the meantime." And before either of them could protest or make an excuse to avoid being left alone together, Colin was gone.

Ginny sighed in irritation and looked around, arms folded, avoiding Harry's gaze. Thinking he might as well make the best of the situation, he tried to think of a way to start a conversation.

"Having fun with Colin?"

"Mmm-hmm." She looked as though she were searching the crowd desperately for someone else to speak to. Finally, she gave up and rounded on Harry.

"And what about you? I saw Cho leave--did you try to persuade her to quit the Ravenclaw team, or something?"

He took a deep breath and looked Ginny in the eye. "No." He wondered whether he should tell her the truth, and then decided there was no reason not to. He lowered his voice and answered evenly, as though she had asked him in earnest. "She didn't want to stay because she still misses Cedric."

At once the fire left Ginny's eyes and she took a step back, mouth open. Just then, Colin came bursting through a nearby cluster of Hufflepuffs, carrying three cups with great difficulty. The Hufflepuffs frowned and whispered as he narrowly avoided covering them in a steaming orange liquid.

"Pumpkin cider!" he cried excitedly, handing one cup to Ginny and one to Harry.

"Thanks, Colin." Harry took the cup. "Well, I think I'm going to find Ron."

"Oh," Colin answered, a little disappointed. "Well, I just saw him and Hermione head upstairs with Fred and Angelina. Why don't you stay, Harry? We'd get a chance to catch up!"

Harry was trying to think of a way of excusing himself, and had opened his mouth to speak, when Ginny interrupted.

"Er--Colin, Harry's just asked me to dance. Do you mind? Just for this one song?"

"Oh! No, of course not," Colin answered brightly. "I'll just go and see how Dennis is getting on."

Ginny nodded, and Colin raised his cup in farewell and disappeared--but not before bumping into Seamus Finnigan and spilling pumpkin cider all over Lavender Brown.

Harry looked at Ginny inquisitively. "I really don't--"

"Come on." She grabbed his cider and placed it, with her own, on a nearby table. Then she grasped his hand and led him to the dance floor.

Harry took a deep breath; he hadn't been expecting this. He strained his mind to remember how to dance to the slow songs. But, seemingly without thought, Ginny placed his hands around her waist and her own hands around his neck, and began to lead.

"Harry, I owe you an apology," she said. "Hearing the truth about Cho made me realize what an awful brat I've been." She took a deep breath. "I'm sure you didn't mean anything by asking me if I was alright to play Keeper against Hufflepuff. I guess it was just a touchy subject, after Christmas, and the argument with Mum and all." She shifted her gaze nervously. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Then she looked up at him earnestly, and Harry felt his feet go numb.

"It's alright," he mumbled, looking down. When he looked back up at her, she was smiling. At that moment, the song ended; up on the stage, Professor Green was handing Lee's guitar back to him.

"Right then," Ginny said with an air of finality. "I reckon I'd better go find Colin." Suddenly, Harry found that he didn't want her to leave. But before he got up the nerve to tell her, she had gone.

He looked around. The other students, including Ginny and a reluctant Colin (who kept waving in an attempt to get Harry's attention) were leaving, and Lee and the band were packing up their things. Even the golden mist in the air had faded into a very faint luminescent glow. All at once, Harry felt very, very tired. Slowly, following the crowd, he made his way across the room and up the stairs.