The Traitor's Blood

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The weekend went past in a kind of blur for Harry. Usually he really enjoyed weekends at Hogwarts but this time he had so much on his mind that he simply was not himself. He spent all day just sitting by the lake on his own - which had become a place of retreat for him lately. Hermione, Ron and even Ginny had attempted at joining him, but he did not feel very sociable and they quickly gave up trying to entice him to talk. The one person he really wanted to talk to was ... well, not around anymore. Harry wanted more than anything for Sirius to come and sit by him. He did not necessarily have to talk to him; he just wanted him to be there. He wanted to feel that comforting presence again. But he knew it was all in his mind and that he would never really feel it ever again.

Monday morning came around all too soon and Harry found himself sitting silently in the Great Hall watching Ron and Hermione eat breakfast. Harry was not hungry; in fact, he had not eaten much all weekend. He was hoping that getting back to classes would take his mind off things again - at least it had done last week.

"Aren't you going to have anything, Harry?" Hermione asked concernedly.

"No thanks," Harry replied quietly.

"You'll need your strength for Whiting's class," Ron grinned.

Harry forced a smile but said nothing. It was true - Whiting's classes had been extremely active. Harry did not want to enjoy them because he still disliked Whiting, but it was obvious that everyone else thought he was brilliant. Well, almost everyone.

"I think Whiting's got a brain the size of an owl dropping," Ginny said casually from the seat next to Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes, in much the same way as she did when Ron said something she thought was stupid.

"I don't like him, either," Harry decided he should give Ginny some support. He figured she had not told anyone else about her argument with Whiting, although he did not know why she was keeping it to herself. But he had a suspicion that it had something to do with what Whiting had said to her after the class.

"Come on then. We don't want to be late," Hermione said, gathering her things from the Gryffindor table.

Harry noticed that Hermione had been much more cheery around him since Friday night. He had intended to talk to her, but now that she was acting like her old self again, he did not know whether he should bring it up at all.

It was no surprise that they were the first ones to reach the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The door was open and when Hermione peeped inside, Whiting beckoned them all in.

"It's great to see students so eager to learn," Whiting laughed as the three of them sat down together. "Especially on a Monday morning!"

Hermione grinned proudly back at him, but Harry decided to busy himself inside his school bag looking for nothing in particular.

The bell rang and more students began to file slowly inside the classroom. Whiting began casually checking off the names of the students on his register. He did not bother to call them out like most teachers, but simply muttered the names to himself as he looked around at the faces in front of him. Harry noticed that the names on his register ticked themselves off as he said each one.

"OK, we're missing someone," Whiting said, scanning the parchment. "Malfoy. Where's Draco Malfoy?" He looked around expectantly, but no one answered. "Well, someone must know," he said impatiently.

"I think he went home," Pansy Parkinson replied in a small voice from the back of the room.

"You think he went home?"

"Well, he didn't say," Pansy replied, in an unusually strained voice. "But he left yesterday and everyone in the common room is saying he had to go home."

Ron started to laugh and had to hide his face behind a book to stifle the sound. But Harry did not find this news at all funny. He was intrigued as to why Malfoy would leave the school just one week into the term. He looked at Hermione who was sitting beside him and she gave him a significant look which told him that she found this news just as interesting.

"Alright." Whiting flicked his wand and the parchment in front of him vanished. "Wands away."

The class gave an almighty groan. 'Wands away' had been one of Umbridge's favourite sentences. It always meant a lesson filled with reading, or in Harry's case, daydreaming.

"And books away," Whiting continued.

The groans rapidly turned into whispers as everyone packed their books back into their bags and wondered what they would be doing in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class with no wands and no books. Harry, Ron and Hermione did not say anything to each other, but exchanged quizzical looks.

Whiting perched himself on the edge of his desk, facing the class. "Today we're going to talk about something which will be extremely important on your NEWT exam. You will not be expected to perform any kind of practical test, but your written paper will almost definitely require you to have a basic understanding of this kind of magic.

"I'm talking about magic which is far more powerful than wands and books. It's the magic which resides inside all of us. A wand, in essence, is simply a piece of wood which helps us to channel that magic into charms, hexes, jinxes and curses." He narrowed his eyes at the class as everyone stared at him intently. "Can anyone give me an example of a spell which does not require the use of a wand?"

Predictably, Hermione's hand shot into the air so fast that Harry could feel his hair move slightly in its wake.

"Longbottom?" Whiting indicated to Neville who was sitting behind Harry.

Neville looked around nervously. He had not put his hand up and was obviously searching his brain hastily for an answer. Neville had never been that good at school. He had only just managed to scrape through his OWL exams and had only been accepted into a handful of NEWT classes, including this one.

"Um, Potions," he squeaked.

"Well, yes, you are right," Whiting replied. "But a Potion is not really a spell. It's simply the art of mixing the correct ingredients in precisely the right way. While the end product is magical, it does not require a great deal of magic to create. It is more skill than anything.

"No, what we're going to be looking at are spells such as enchantments and curses that can be performed without the use of a wand. Now this kind of magic requires a great deal of skill, too. Many witches and wizards will never use powerful magic such as this in their lives - they will never need to. But it is important to understand what kind of magical forces exist and how we can use them to our advantage, should the need ever arise."

Whiting began throwing out examples, some of which Harry recognised. He talked briefly about curses which can be used without a wand, and Harry was reminded of the times he had unwillingly used magic to annoy the Dursleys'. Whiting also mentioned Occlumency. He talked about the magic of the mind and how some wizards can see inside your head using Legilimency. He then explained that he would spend another lesson demonstrating how they could all prevent this using Occlumency. Then he changed the subject and began talking about magical bonds in families.

But at this point Harry's thoughts drifted away from the lesson. He began to wonder if Whiting had been planted by Dumbledore. It seemed like an odd coincidence that he would be talking about the exact things that Harry had experienced. And it would be just like Dumbledore to appoint someone he thought would be able to teach them what they needed to know. But the idea of learning Occlumency with Whiting was almost as bad as learning it with Snape, although at least he would be learning along with the rest of the class and not on his own like last year.

"Are you actually listening to me, Potter?"

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts at the mention of his own name. "Um, yeah," he replied uncertainly.

"As I was saying," Whiting seemed to have moved on to another topic now. "We must not treat our unconscious as a trivial place. It is when we are most vulnerable that we learn the most important things about ourselves ... and about those around us," he added, looking directly at Harry.

Harry looked away. He had a horrible feeling that Whiting might be able to read his thoughts when they made eye contact. The last thing he wanted was another person delving inside his mind.

At long last the lesson ended and Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back to the common room for a free period before lunch. Neville walked with them for some of the way, mumbling about how difficult the class had been. Then he said goodbye and headed outside for his Herbology lesson.

When they reached the common room, Harry threw himself into his usual seat by the fireplace. Hermione sat down next to him and began pulling her books out of her bag. Ron slouched into the other seat and kicked his shoes off.

"Your feet stink," Hermione observed, wrinkling her nose.

"I couldn't find any clean socks this morning," Ron grinned, wriggling his toes in front of her face.

"That's disgusting," Hermione shook her head irritably and started gathering her books up again. "I'm going to the library to study."

"I might come with you," Harry got back out of his chair and swung his bag onto his back.

Ron groaned. "I don't want to study."

"Then don't," Hermione said angrily. "I really don't care what you do." She sniffed audibly and walked away.

Harry stood for a moment. "You coming?" he asked Ron.

"No," Ron sulked, "I'll stay here and count my cards." He started shuffling through his collection of Chocolate Frog cards on the small table in front of him. "You go."

"I'll stay with you," Harry said decisively.

"I said go," Ron snapped.

Harry decided it was best to do as he was told. When he reached the library, Hermione was sitting on her own in a far corner with her face buried inside a very large leather book. Harry crossed the room quietly and sat down beside her.

"Why do you and Ron keep fighting?" Harry whispered, pretending to read the book with Hermione.

"It doesn't matter," she replied through gritted teeth.

"It's getting really annoying," Harry confessed. "Ginny said it's because ... well, because you like each other." He looked at Hermione cautiously.

"Honestly, how stupid," Hermione sighed. She was chewing unconsciously on her lip as her eyes scanned the tiny words on the over-large page in front of her.

"So," Harry hesitated, and then continued, "why do you always spend so much time at the Weasley's in the summer? Don't you want to spend any of the holidays with your own parents?"

Hermione closed her book and looked at Harry with a frown on her face. "Hasn't Ron told you?"

"Told me what?" Harry had the distinct feeling he was missing something. He thought Ron told him everything, but now it occurred to him that maybe there were a few things that Ron kept to himself.

Hermione picked up her bag and indicated for Harry to follow her out of the library. They walked in silence until they reached the doors in the entrance hall and stepped out into the grounds.

"Look, it's not a big deal," Hermione spoke finally. "I assumed Ron would tell you, but obviously he hasn't."

"Tell me what?" Harry repeated.

"My parents are getting divorced," Hermione replied with very little feeling in her voice. "They haven't been happy for years." She sat down under a birch tree and Harry joined her. "They were always taking me on holidays abroad and trying to create this perfect happy family that didn't really exist."

"When did you find out?" Harry asked. He could not work out whether Hermione was happy or upset about the situation. She was hiding her emotions very well.

"Oh, ages ago," she replied. "It's been building up for a long time. That's why I haven't been going home most Christmas's and why I spend a lot of the summer with the Weasley's. I thought it would be better to give them time alone together. But when I got home this summer my Dad had moved out and Mum told me they were getting a divorce. I was a bit upset and sent an owl to Ginny to tell her. Mrs Weasley sent an owl straight back and suggested I go to Grimmauld Place and stay with them for the whole summer." A small sob caught in Hermione's throat and she stopped talking.

It was then that Harry realised she really was quite upset about her parents and that was probably what had been upsetting her at school. She obviously thought he knew and probably thought he was really insensitive for not talking to her about it.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting an arm around her.

"It's alright," she said quietly. "I've got used to the idea now. It's just made me a bit emotional this year. I think I've been a bit of a grouch actually. I keep snapping at Ron for no reason. And I've been snapping at you, too."

"I hadn't noticed," Harry lied, causing a wide grin to spread across Hermione's face.

"There you are," Ron puffed as he came towards them from the castle. "I went to the library and you weren't there. Then I bumped into Nearly-Headless Nick and he told me he saw you walk out here together." He gave Harry a funny look when he saw that he had his arm around Hermione. "Have you been crying again?" he asked Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell Harry about my parents?" Hermione asked.

Ron threw himself down on the grass next to Hermione. "I don't know. I guess it just never came up," he said innocently.

Hermione grinned at him and put her arm around him, causing him to turn a violent shade of red.

"Let's all stop keeping secrets from each other," she said brightly. "I want us to tell each other everything from now on."

Harry looked guiltily from Hermione to Ron, then back to Hermione who nodded at him. "Ron, I need to tell you something," he said slowly. "It's about the Prophecy - the one which was smashed in the Department of Mysteries..."

Harry felt a huge weight lifted from him when he told Ron about the Prophecy and his conversation with Dumbledore at the end of last term. It was a relief to know that both of his best friends now knew what had been haunting him all summer. The relief was so great, in fact, that he decided to continue and tell them both about the vision of Voldemort he had seen in his dream the other night and the conversation he had witnessed between him and Wormtail.

When he had finished pouring out his heart, Hermione squeezed his shoulder extremely tight and said: "Whatever Voldemort is up to, Dumbledore knows about it. That's why he hasn't been back to the school. And I'm certain that wherever he is and whatever he's doing, he's doing it to keep you safe, Harry."