A Hundred Visions and Revisions

Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

It happens all the time and it's a process Harry knows he can't ignore. He doesn't believe in Divination and shares Ron's belief that it's all a bunch of bollocks, yet he sits quietly in class, sometimes dozing off, sometimes fooling around, sometimes just enjoying the too-sweet tea Trelawney offers. But when it happens, the air is always hazy and the world tilts just a little bit, yawning and stretching until everything clears up again.

It's unnatural, Hermione would say, a delusion, unhealthy. Even Dumbledore's admitted that he doesn't believe in telling the future. He doesn't put any stock in the subject and only allows Trelawney to stay for the benefit of her safety. And Harry always believes Dumbledore now, doesn't have a reason to think that he wouldn't tell him the truth. He only has a problem of keeping things to himself, and Harry knows that after the Divine Comedy that was Sirius' graceful descent, Dumbledore will never keep to himself again.

It still can't explain what Harry sees.

All rationalities aside, he knows that there are ways to see the future. There must be, because Firenze sees what's coming in the sky. Harry doesn't look up, doesn't want to see what's coming. He wants to live in whatever moments he's given, but it feels as if everything is moving against him.

Trelawney's voice is always ridiculously low and wavering, but it soothes Harry into lethargy until his cup tips over and spills his tea all over the floor.

Everything is surreal now: the way Hermione rolls her eyes at Ron from across the Gryffindor table, the way Harry watches the dust that lives in the columns of light fall into her hair. He'll miss that, he thinks, the day that it's gone. Fast forward to four years later as he watches a shock of red cover the ground while Hermione's hair, sticky and in clumps, still attracts the same dust from the same light that was there at breakfast.

'What do you see when you look at them, Potter?'

'The future,' Harry replies. 'I see the future.'

'Bloody Gryffindors. So fucking optimistic.' Draco walks away, weaving through the bodies and the noise. Optimism, he thinks.

But no, that is not it, at all.

War is coming. Everyone expects it to be a short war, violent, perhaps, but mercifully short. Talk of losses is interspersed with commentary about that day's meal, or Snape's potion class. When they look up they can see nothing of birds or smoke. There is nothing in the shift of the stars to let the students know that they are coming. Hogwarts, through the layer of years and spells and careful protection, is the safest place in Britain, if not the entire Wizarding World.

The children do not feel as if their world is changed by anything. The condolences sent by the Ministry and family and friends are just a yellow fog to live through.

Their profiles during the scurry to charms class is perfect and flawless. Hermione is bright and glowing, laughing her way with Ron who is tall and broad, much stronger now than he was in their first year. Harry holds his breath as Hermione dodges another column of light, pushing herself into Ron's arms as if to say I shall tell you all. Draco shuffles ahead in front of him, arms pulled to his side, gaze cast down, keeping to himself. Slytherins aren't welcome in Hogwarts these days.

Harry fucks Draco that night, falling when he comes, spilling into magic that tastes like earth, a forest green that bites and writhes into his skin. The world becomes nothing more than the rush of water and wind, the gurgling brook over the worn rocks, the trodden path to a house with clear, clean windowpanes. When he wakes, he can still taste the microcosm that Draco brings.

Children begin to disappear. Harry is in Dumbledore's office when a second-year Hufflepuff and Professor Sprout, still in her dressing gown, rush inside with the dire news that two students are gone. Shortly after, McGonagall herself arrives, ashen-faced and trembling. Parvati has gone, leaving all her possessions in her room, and neither Hermione nor Lavender have any idea where she is, or where she could be.

Rumours begin to circulate that the children are really hiding in the Forbidden Forest. Ravenclaws are quick to dismiss the gossip, all but Padma who has grown thinner since her sister's disappearance. No one is surprised when Flitwick announces that she has followed her sister.

Hermione worries about Lavender, who remains huddled in her bed, singing an old Muggle verse: He never can cross that mighty top! He's forced to let the piping drop! And we shall see our children stop! McGonagall removes the wards that prevent boys from entering the girl's dorms in hopes that Seamus will be able to soothe her. When Seamus disappears two days later she brings the wards back up and sends Ginny in to look after Hermione. They take turns until Madame Pomfrey comes and moves Lavender into the hospital ward. The Gryffindors don't see her after that.

Slytherins disappear too, but no one is surprised. Everyone whispers about it; even Harry grows suspicious when Goyle ceases to show up for meals. He stops after Draco, sobbing about fucking Gryffindors who are just as prejudiced as the Slytherins they torment, punches him in the face. Dumbledore finds them before Harry can swing back, and he orders Draco to see Madame Pomfrey at once.

'Gregory Goyle is not with his father, Harry. Gregory Goyle is dead.'

'But how can you know for sure, sir?'

There is sadness in Dumbledore's eyes when he talks. Everything becomes a rush in Harry's head and blocks out the words he probably doesn't want to hear. He feels so dizzy that he becomes sick on the staircase, vomiting until all he can taste is bitterness and apology.

The forest is warded now. Dean Thomas wandered in when Seamus disappeared, calling for his friend. When Hagrid found him, Dean was shaking, huddled into the forest floor with worms in his hair. He asked Hagrid to bring Seamus back. Instead, Hagrid brought Dean to the common room and Neville, Harry and Ron took turns watching him. His parents were notified by telegram of his condition, and then Dean found himself on an airplane home. They don't know what has happened to him, only that he is supposed to be better now, or at the very least no longer crying out for Seamus in mid-day.

'Are they in there?' Harry asks bluntly. Firenze stamps his hoof against the ground.

'No,' he says quietly.

'How do you know?'

A bird trills. Inside the castle, Lavender breaks down, begging Madame Pomfrey to let her follow.

'Saturn is unusually active.' He pauses. Harry listens to the sound of breaking glass in the infirmary. 'Disturbing the universe is not as easy as one thinks, Harry Potter.' It should be distressing somehow, but the lilt of Firenze's voice serves as no warning. Harry does nothing as he gallops towards the wards, crashing into them with a sickening crack and the sound of snapping bones. He does it again, and again, and again, and again, and again, until there is only a smear of blood that hovers in the air as a reminder that I was here.

'Harry! HARRY! MERLIN'S BEARD, POTTER, ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?' Draco rushes towards him, capturing Harry around the chest, pulling him back from Firenze's bones. Harry can see the muscular leg twitch, electrons reacting, the creature's mind induced to one last flail for life. 'What were you thinking, you daft twit? Don't you know what they say about the Forbidden Forest?' Draco trembles. Harry thinks he says something about children and disappearances, about revenge and how it's now everyone's time. But maybe he's wrong.

Days later, Parvati's body surfaces. It is caught in a cluster of rocks, undulating in the tide. Harry pulls her to the shore before she can get away. The alarm is sounded; students and faculty rush out. It doesn't take long for the other bodies to emerge. Everyone is finally accounted for. Goyle's funeral is held first at the request of the Patils, who must fly in to see their girls, the bodies.

Harry still shakes when he bathes, and when it rains he stays inside, hiding from the water. They take the enchantments off the Great Hall ceiling and open the windows to let the smoke come in.

The war is won within eight months. Three years and four months later, Harry stumbles inside Ron and Hermione's home and trips over their bodies. Draco is so shaken that he runs outside and drops the wine on the pavement. The glass shatters. Everything is gone. Aurors investigate and tell Harry that they are sorry, but Muggle burglars came and caught his friends unaware.