Seven ways to change a life

Chapter One

The bed was far harder than usual. That was the main thought circling Harry Potter's mind. He was lying awake with his eyes closed on a murderously hard bed. There was also something digging sharply into his side. Rolling over, he smacked his head against a heavy wooden something. He moaned as his head began throbbing pointedly. Reaching back to see what he had been lying on before, he realised that he didn't have any covers. Moreover he hadn't fallen off the edge of the bed yet and with all his usual movement in the night - generally ending up poised half off the bed -that was nearly miraculous. His hand closed on a small lumpy thing that he had undoubtedly been sleeping on. After further inspection he decided that the lumpy thing was most definitely a chess piece.

Arrrrgh! It just wasn't fair, waking up in a hard bed with no covers and hard wooden things lying in wait to hit him over the head and sleeping on chess pieces - that was just going too far.

Then, suddenly, he came to the rather obvious conclusion that he wasn't in bed.

Harry peeled one eye open and discovered that he was flat on his back in the Gryffindor common room. He groaned again; his head was still throbbing. Had he got drunk last night? He didn't remember going out . . . or drinking . . . or very much at all . . .

Sunlight streamed in through the high windows. The brightness stung his eyes and seemed to wash out all the colour in the room. Bright light . . . it sparked a memory in his head. Last night, a bright light . . . the faintest echo of a voice . . . to hinder . . . Dionysos' gift. God knew what it all meant.

The common room was eerily quiet, like the calm before the storm. Birdsong drifted faintly in through the windows, but was quickly crushed by the oppressive silence that had settled over the room. The silence felt strangely heavy, like a weight pinning Harry to the ground. The complete lack of sound made him feel as though he was deaf; it fell thickly over him, filling his ears with the sound of nothing. It was almost overpowering. He shook his head, as if to throw off the blanketing hush. It was quite an unnerving experience. He stretched his arms out and his hand connected heavily with someone else's head.

'Ow! I'm awake, you don't need to hit me.' Ron's disgruntled voice floated over from somewhere on Harry's right, shattering the stifling silence. Looking over, he discovered his best friend curled in a ball at the base of a low settee, surrounded by scattered chess pieces and lying on the chessboard.

'Sorry.' Harry pulled himself into a sitting position leaning against the chair, which had previously been contriving to hit him over the head.

'Bloody hell, this bed is hard. What's it stuffed with, rocks?' Harry watched Ron with faint amusement as he rolled over and into a coffee table. 'Bloody Hell!'

Angry mutterings blaming the world and everyone in to for ganging up on him to make his life hell could be heard from Ron as he extracted himself from beneath the table and mirrored Harry's sitting position, peering out through half-closed eyes.

'Harry, I'm getting the strangest feeling that I'm not in bed, and neither are you. Now that would raise the questions where are and what are we doing there?'

'We're in the common room, on the floor,' answered Harry as though that was a perfectly good explanation for why they had just woken up on the floor in the common room surrounded by chess pieces.

Ron opened his eyes fully and peered around him, taking in the coffee table, chess set, and his best friend sitting calmly opposite him.

'Well, I can see that, but it doesn't tell me WHY I am on the FLOOR!'

'No. It doesn't.'

Ron stared at the other boy in disbelief. 'And it doesn't bother you that you woke up on the floor nowhere near your bed? Aren't you worried that you were kidnapped and had your memory erased? Or you've been cursed by You-Know-Who? Or maybe that you are in some dungeon somewhere and this is only made to look like Hogwarts too fool us? We could even be dead for all you know!' Ron crossed his arms firmly, glowering at his friend.

Harry managed to suppress a laugh for a few moments but quickly gave in and soon had tears streaming down his face, while Ron stared coldly.

'You don't know how much you sounded like Hermione on pep pills,' he choked out between chuckles. Ron looked at him strangely. 'Sorry, Muggle thing. But seriously, dead? And this is the after life? I don't think so - '

Their conversation was interrupted by the patter of feet, descending the stairs from the boys' dormitories. Ginny appeared in the doorway wrapped in a silk dressing gown, her fiery red hair hung in a think plat down her back.

'I don't think Ginny's dead either.'

'Where have you two been? Dean said you never came up last night,' she declared, looking quizzically at the two boys.

'Dean said? Why were you talking to Dean?' Ron struggled up off the floor. 'You would have had to have gone into the boy's dorms to talk to Dean. Ginny you know I don't want you to go up there!'

Ginny scowled at her brother. 'I can do what I like, I'm my own person!'

'I'm doing this for your own good. I know what boys are like. They're disgusting - '

'Hey!' Harry interrupted.

'Okay, excluding you and me, well maybe not you. But you agree with me on this, right?'

He scuttled backwards away from the warring siblings. 'I'm not getting involved in this. Leave me out of it.'

'Oh, come on Ron, I've grown up now, I can handle myself,' replied Ginny despairingly.

'That's what I mean, you've grown. Most guys are perverted sex maniacs - '

'Hey, I resent that!' Both Ron and Ginny shot Harry looks that could cut glass. 'I didn't say anything, I'm not a part of this,' he hurriedly apologised, and moved further away.

'God, Ron, give me a break. So what if I kiss someone?'

'You kiss people?'

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. 'It's like trying to get blood out of a stone, talking to you. Ugh, I'm not your responsibility anymore, you just don't get that, do you?'

'You may think that I don't need to watch you anymore, but you're wrong. You are my responsibility. I will always look after you, because you are my baby sister and you always will be, so get used to it.' He glared at her as if to say 'so there'.

She kicked the nearest chair and grunted aggravation. Flinging a letter in her brother's general direction, she stalked away, this time heading for the girl's dorms. Harry sidled over to the letter, which balanced precariously on the back of an over stuffed chair. Ron didn't seem to notice him, as he was still fuming, but he had a strange look of satisfaction on his freckled face. The letter appeared to be addressed to not only Ginny but to Ron and Harry, too.

'Here Ron, read this,' Harry waved the sheet of parchment tentatively in front of his friends face, 'I'm guessing she was looking for us in the boys' dorm, to give us the letter. That's probably why she was talking to Dean.'

Ron looked at Harry dubiously, but took the letter anyway and scanned through it, soon breaking into a smile.

'What?' asked Harry.

'It's from mum, she says that everyone is coming home for Christmas, even Bill. And she's spoken to Dumbledore and arranged for you to come back with us! He said that you would be safer with us, as You-Know-Who is more likely to attack you at Hogwarts, and, and, it's going to be great! Mum cooks the best roast chicken, and we can go sledding and we always get dragged to the church service, I don't know why mum makes us, to fit in with the Muggles I guess, but after that we can - ' Ron broke off at the look on his best friend's face. 'What?'

'Breathe, don't forget to breathe,' replied Harry, as Ron looked sheepishly at him.

'Was I overdoing it a bit?' Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Okay, a lot then, but I'll tell you more over breakfast.'

The boys got to their feet and made their way across the common room, conveniently forgetting about the overturned chess board and table, no doubt leaving it for some other hapless soul to clear up.

*****

As the boys approached their dorm, loud music was emanating from the half open door. Neville could just be seen jumping around on his bed, making a half-hearted attempt to air guitar along to the music. Harry and Ron exchanged amused glances.

'I wonder whose music that is? Whoever's it is seems to be popular with Neville,' smirked Ron.

'Probably Seamus'. You must have seen him flaunting that new radio of his around,' replied Harry.

'What, the flashy one that's supposed to be able to receive all the Muggle stations in Britain and Europe?'

'Yep.'

'So that would be the one I stole last week and enchanted to play nothing but Englebert Humperdink?'

'Oh.'

'Damn funny though.'

Both boys grinned at the memory of Seamus passing it to Dean in potions telling him that it would even receive muggle football matches. Dean then gleefully turned it on, searching for the right station and instead scaring the class with a horrible rendition of 'Please Release Me'.

Harry beckoned to Ron, and then put a finger to his lips. He crept silently up to the door and peered in through the gap, with Ron quick behind him.

As it turned out, it was not only Neville who was jumping round madly, but Dean and Seamus, too, with Dean miming a drum kit and Seamus rivalling Neville on the air guitar. They were all still in their pyjamas, clearly having just got out of bed.

Then Seamus began to sing.

'Turn my head its back to bed with no delay,

Can't be bothered by the phone ten times a day,

Why get up, my morning doesn't even start till two

Forget reality waking up is hard to do.

Remember when we would hang out every day, and we would rather,

Not be told what to do or what to say, cause nothing mattered

Never boring with slept in mornings, not ashamed of bad habits that I'm forming.

It's not important if days are shortened,

I can't make time when nothings new

Cause waking up is hard to do.'

This was too much for Ron. He had been laughing silently up until now, but he could no longer contain himself and snorted with laughter, knocking the door wide open. The music abruptly stopped and the three boys turned to stare at the interrupters. Neville squeaked and sat down heavily on his bed. Seamus had turned a shade of red something akin to a traffic light, while Dean was busying himself with straightening his pyjamas.

'Er, do I dare ask, what were you doing?' Harry was only just controlling himself, unlike Ron who had dissolved into fits of laughter, leaning on the door for support.

'We were holding an antenatal class for hamsters,' scowled Seamus, 'what does it look like? We were singing.'

'Why?' asked Harry looking baffled.

'I dunno,' said Dean, ' we were all lying in bed, and Neville was complaining about having to get up this early, and then . . . we sang.'

'About sleeping?'

'Well . . . yeah.'

'And no little people in green coats have been telling you to burn things?' Harry's question was met by steely glares. 'I was just asking . . .'

'We're not insane.'

'Right, of course you're not.' He looked at Ron who was on the floor, leaning against the wall, turning a worrying shade of blue. 'Come on Ron, let's get down to breakfast, see if Hermione's there.'

Ron swallowed his laughter, and stood up quickly. 'Yeah, okay. I'm sure Hermione has some explanation as to why you guys are losing it.'

He ducked a balled up sock thrown in his direction and slipped into the corridor, grinning madly.

*****

The great hall was already full of chattering students, already eating breakfast. It was the end of the first week of term, and nothing of particular excitement had happened yet, leaving many with a strange feeling of somehow being cheated. Since the first year Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts, each new year heralded another huge event; the opening of the Chamber of Secrets; Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban; the reinstatement of the Triwizard Tournament, and last year, the Order of the Phoenix. Still nothing had happened yet leading many to believe that they were in for a quiet year, culminating in nothing more than end of year exams. Unfortunately, they were very much mistaken.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was hidden behind an enormous book entitled 'Everything You Need to Know About Musical Curses and How to Avoid Them'. A half-finished plate of kippers had been shoved unceremoniously to one side, overturning a salt cellar, sprinkling a powdery white blanket over the table. Hermione, herself, was chewing her lip and fervently ploughing through the aforementioned book. Lavender and Parvati were talking animatedly about a boy in Ravenclaw, who had allegedly asked Parvati's sister Padma to spend the Christmas holidays with him. Parvati was endlessly jealous, while Lavender was trying to pursue her that if they broke up, she could always be around as someone he could seek comfort in. She accompanied the statement with a wink, which caused Parvati to break out of her jealous rage for a second, before lecturing Lavender on the moral issues involved with stealing your twin's boyfriend. However she did spend the rest of breakfast watching the Ravenclaw table, with an eagle eye on Padma and her other half.

Harry and Ron wondered into the Hall and, catching site of Hermione, made their way to the Gryffindor table. They sat to one side of her, Ron immediately reaching for the bacon. He piled his plate with bacon, eggs, sausages, and, upon realising there were no more kippers, helped himself to what was left on Hermione's plate. She looked up from her book.

'It wouldn't hurt to add a please before you do that,' she said, with an air of mild annoyance.

'But that would take the fun out of it,' he replied.

Hermione considered retorting for a moment, then returned to her book. They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Seamus and Dean joined them, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

'Recovered from our bout of uncontrollable singing, I see,' said Ron, though a mouthful of eggs.

'Sod off, Ron.'

'Ah, the mature approach to things.'

Seamus continued to glare at Ron, who smiled angelically back. Harry glanced at the two and decided that a change of subject was in everybody's interest.

'What are you reading, Herm?' he asked, for want of something better.

She looked up startled. 'Oh, you know, just a book.'

'Harry can see that, but a title would generally be good,' Ron peered at the spine, 'Everything You Need to Know About Musical Curses and How to Avoid Them'. One of the classics. Hey, maybe it could help out these two. Don't know if I could face another outburst.'

'What?'

'Dean. Seamus. Neville. Singing. Comprende?'

'You - they sang?'

'Uh huh.'

Hermione was looking serverly shell-shocked. Lavender looked over at her.

'Oh, she's probably just surprised. She submitted us to a musical number herself.'

'What did she sing about?' asked Ron.

'Well, as a matter of fact it was about - ' Hermione had a hand clamped firmly over Lavender's mouth.

'It doesn't matter. It was nothing important,' she said hurriedly.

Parvati was watching with faint amusement.

'What does matter is that someone else burst into song, which, in the world we are living in, means more likely or not, that someone is behind it,' she continued.

'But is it just us?' queried Dean.

Harry though for a moment. 'Hey, Colin.' Colin blushed furiously at being addressed directly by Harry. 'Did any of you burst into song this morning?' He blushed even deeper, and tried to hide himself behind a jug of water. 'I'll take that as a yes.'

'I bet Malfoy's behind this.'

'Ron, aren't you jumping to conclusions?'

'I didn't jump; I took a tiny step, and there conclusions were. Besides, if only Gryffindors have been affected, then it looks suspiciously Malfoy shaped. What more would he like than for us to make fools out of ourselves in front of everyone?'

'You don't know if it's only Gryffindors.'

'Well, I don't see anyone else singing their hearts out.'

Suddenly, at the high table, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick stood up and began to sing a loud, tuneless version of 'Lucy in the sky with Diamonds'.

'I spoke too soon.'