Harry Potter and the Reign of Darkness

Chapter Eight - Seeing Is Believing

The grounds of Hogwarts fell into Autumn earlier than usual, a lasting chill settling over the area as September came to a close and October began. Doing his best to forget the headline in The Daily Prophet, Harry had immersed himself in the Quidditch tactics book Hermione had given him for his birthday. Towards the end of the September, Harry and Ron had posted fliers for Quidditch tryouts. After Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet graduated, it left two openings for Chasers on the team. Tryouts, much to Harry's surprise, turned out relatively well. Amidst a jumble of unimpressive Gryffindors, Harry had been forced to select the two people he wanted on the team the least, but knew were the overall best choice: the Creevey brothers. Their level of hero worship when it came to Harry was legendary among Gryffindors, and some had even accused Harry of playing favorites to the Creeveys when he announced them as the team's new Chasers alongside Ginny, who seemed rather excited about the brothers joining the team. Despite their diminutive size, Colin and Dennis had an unmistakable talent for the most important aspect of being a Chaser: teamwork. Zipping by on a pair of Cleansweep Eleven's, the Creevey's worked like a well-oiled machine, tossing the Quaffle back and forth and through the goals with ease. Even Ron, who had a pronounced dislike for the brothers, had begrudgingly given his blessing. As the first match with Slytherin began to loom, The Gryffindor lineup was being built more and more for speed with each season, Harry had mused. "And now we're nothing short of a blur," he had said to himself when posting the announcement. He was looking forward to keeping the Quidditch Cup in Professor McGonagall's office for at least one more year.

When Harry wasn't focused on Quidditch, he had plenty of schoolwork to keep him busy. Hermione constantly nagged him and Ron about N.E.W.T.'s, which were still months and months off. "If you two really want to be Aurors, you're going to have to learn to write your essays without me looking over your shoulder," she had said, "I won't be there for your tests." Ron and Harry had only grinned at each other. Despite Hermione's protests, Ron and Harry made it a regular practice to find ways to leave their work to the last minute, more and more out of a desire to get her worked up and less out of their own procrastination, which was precisely why Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room before dinner, scribbling away on another Defense Against The Dark Arts essay for Snape. To Harry, Ron and Hermione's collected surprise, Defense Against The Dark Arts classes with Snape weren't as terrible as they had anticipated. While Snape was as vile as ever when addressing any of them directly, their marks in the class through the first month or so had been surprisingly good. Even Ron was excelling. Harry liked to tell himself that his time in charge of "Dumbledore's Army" had directly contributed. Regardless, Snape was encouraging wand use in the classroom, continually showcasing particularly nasty curses and hexes, and then requiring essays on how to counter them. Harry often couldn't help but wonder how many times Snape had used some of the spells when he had been a Death Eater. He had also thought it odd that he had never been used in any demonstrations in class after the incident with the Cruciatus Curse, but he didn't dwell on it. Better to let Snape torment someone else for once, even if he never called on Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle or the wretched Pansy Parkinson either.

Harry set down his quill, rolling up the finished essay and tucking it in with his books. Ever since Ron had told Harry to let him handle the disastrous pairing of Hermione and Malfoy as Head Girl and Boy, he hadn't heard a thing about it since. Occasionally Hermione would come into the common room late at night, crying and wailing, and Ron or Ginny or even himself would comfort her before she went up to bed, no one would admit it but it had began to take it's toll. Hermione snapped at both him and Ron much more than usual, but after she had finished, she would apologize endlessly, almost falling over herself. Harry began to wonder if Ron even knew where to begin when footsteps approached.

It was Ginny, smiling broadly at him. Since the night he had revealed the full contents of the prophecy concerning his future with Lord Voldemort, he had said very little to Ginny. Yet, every time they crossed paths or made idle conversation, she always had a welcoming smile and an understanding look in her eyes.

"Hi, Gin," Harry said, standing from his chair after setting his books aside.

"Practice after dinner, right?" she said innocently. Harry nodded. Their first match with Slytherin was still a little over a month away, but knowing them, they would need all the practice they could get to be ready.

"I'm actually heading to the great hall now," Harry said. "Care to join me?"

Ginny smiled. Harry outstretched his arm and Ginny hooked her own around it, and together they strolled to dinner.

Quidditch practice that night went exceptionally well. After only a handful of nights on the pitch, the Creevey brothers had fallen into sync with Ginny's aggressive style beautifully. While Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke certainly didn't have the skill of the Weasley twins, they had shaped up into decent beaters, and Ron had truly come into his own. In fact, Harry believed that Ron wasn't as comfortable anywhere else as he was at the pitch. All the uncertainties he tended to shoulder seemed to melt away as he mounted his broom stick. It made Quidditch practices a very enjoyable experience, as everyone on the team seemed to enjoy the game as much as Harry did. As dusk settled and Harry called practice, he landed next to a grinning Ron.

"Did you see that last save I had back there? I thought for sure Ginny would pull it left, but I went right anyway. Didn't think I'd reach it in time," he said excitedly as his sister landed and walked over next to him.

Harry patted a gloved hand on Ron's shoulder. After years of being overshadowed by his brothers, Harry couldn't help but Ron bask in his own glory after he made a particularly impressive save. He had earned it.

As the three of them trailed up towards Hogwarts from the pitch, Harry found himself staring into the nearby forest's edge as they passed. As they neared the entrance to Hogwarts, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, leaning his head in to try and peer through the underbrush. Ron and Ginny took a few steps further before realizing Harry had stopped, and turned around to look.

"What is it, Ha-"

"Shh," Harry had said, holding his hand out towards them.

He had seen something moving, something carefully watching them as they walked up to Hogwarts. A snap to Harry's left reinforced his belief that there was someone, or something, in the forest. In a split second, Harry threw down his Firebolt and rushed into the woods. Ron had called out to him, but all of Harry's focus was on the shadows ahead. As he broke through underneath the trees, something took off running from him. Harry's eyes searched and soon fell upon a formless shadow in the distance. Harry began to ran after it. "It's him," Harry told himself, "It has to be." Harry ran for a few minutes, searching from left to right, before he came to a small ridge. Stopping to catch his breath, Harry began to try and find some sign that the shadow had passed through here. Finally deciding to go left, Harry began to run again when a figure in a black cloak appeared from behind a tree near him, holding an illuminated wand.

"Potter, what do you think you are doing." The disgruntled voice came from Professor Snape, who was glaring at him.

"I, I saw something, someone in the bushes, I thought I might-" Harry said, looking anxiously past Snape into the growing darkness.

"Truly arrogant to the end, Potter," Snape interrupted with a sneer, "With me, now," Snape commanded, and then swept back into the forest. Harry glanced at Snape, then back in the direction where he had seen the shadow last.

"Sirius, come back," he whispered longingly, before falling in behind Snape.

Snape led Harry to his classroom, and Harry felt sure that he would be on cauldron scrubbing duty in no time. After closing the door, Snape turned and swept past Harry, taking a seat at his desk. "Sit," he demanded, and Harry did so. Snape leaned forward, his eyes drilling into Harry's skull, his scar prickling. "Fate has presented me with a cruel joke, Potter. An extremely cruel joke," the words came from Snape as if he was trying to rid something disgusting from his teeth. He stood, sweeping past his desk and standing to Harry's left. "Do you know what that joke is?"

Harry turned and glared up at Snape. "You as Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?"

Snape's face turned white as a sheet. "Twenty-five points from Gryffindor," Snape paused for a moment, "The joke, as you are as clueless as your insipid father, is the prophecy. Yes, I know what it is." The last sentence had come out of Snape even before Harry could give him a confused look. Snape turned away from him and strode a few steps towards a cabinet, his arms folded. "As much as I would like to have you galavanting around the Forest at night to hurtle headlong to your doom, I simply cannot allow it. If the prophecy is true, Potter," Snape whipped back around to face Harry, "Then none of us have the luxury of letting you make stupid decisions." Snape walked back to his desk, taking his seat once more. He and Harry locked eyes for a few moments. "You may go," Snape said, not breaking his stare. Harry continued glaring for a moment longer before turning and walking quickly from the room.

Harry rushed down to catch the last ten minutes of dinner, not bothering to change from his Quidditch robes, before heading to Gryffindor Tower. As he stepped through the portrait, he sighted Ron and Ginny sitting near the fire, playing a game of Wizard Chess. Ron looked up and grinned as Harry approached. "Everything alright? We were going to follow you, but Snape showed up," Ron said, shrugging.

"Yeah, just thought I saw something," Harry said hesitantly, noticing Ginny giving him an odd look, "Nothing out there though, just being foolish. Did you grab my Firebolt?"

Ron rose an eyebrow for a moment, then nodded. "I took it upstairs, it's on your bed."

"Thanks." Harry rushed upstairs, tossing off his Quidditch gear and putting it in his trunk, his Firebolt resting nearby. When he descended back to the common room minutes later, Ron was putting away his chess set with a triumphant smile. To no one's surprise, he had just bested his sister, who was doing her best to look very interested in the posting board near the entrance to the common room. Harry was looking in Ginny's direction when the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and Hermione stepped through, lugging some books in front of her. As she made her way through the common room, she threw her books down, her teeth clenched in obvious rage. As Ron started to stand from his chair, a look of concern on his face, Hermione swept by and headed up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Harry heard the faint slam of her dorm room door and then turned to look at Ron, who was looking very let down. Ginny was staring at Ron as well, watching him as he walked over to her books and leaned down, picking them up one by one. "She'll want these, Gin," he said, defeat in his voice. Ginny nodded and walked over to him, where he scooped the books into her waiting arms. After a brief shuffling, the book on top of the stack, their textbook for Defense Against The Dark Arts, swung open to a page held with a inky quill. On the page numerous crude cartoons and notes were scribbled about. Ron began to close the cover when Ginny gasped, her eyes locked downwards. She scrambled over to the nearest table and set the books down, shoving the others aside as she examined the Defense Against The Dark Arts book. "I can't believe it," she gasped.

"What is it?" Ron said, walking over to Ginny briskly. Harry joined him as they stared down at the book, examining the drawings closer. A particularly bad drawing of someone swooping for the Golden Snitch ducked and weaved around the page, consistently punching another figure on a broom which bore bottle-cap glasses and a scar. Harry's eyes followed the poorly sketched Snitch down to the bottom of the page where a ratty note had been shoved into the binding, with script in Malfoy's handwriting:

Crabbe,

You know what mother would say if I asked her. She expects, as my father surely would, that I would take Pansy. I can't stand her, I just can't, but the mudblood, that's something different. There's something special about her. We'll see.

- Draco

Ron lunged for the note as ripped it out of the book, shoving it into his pocket. "Give me that!" he bellowed, and Ginny handed the book to him. He began pawing through the rest of it, seemingly looking for any other notes, but he only found plenty of particularly nasty drawings of both Harry and Ron being beaten, transfigured or blown up. The other books that Hermione had brought in were indeed hers, but the three figured the two must have, by some twist of fate, managed to get their Defense Against The Dark Arts books mixed up. Harry could tell that Ron's theory on how they were switched wasn't a happy thought for him. Ginny had eventually brought the books up to Hermione, promising to come back down with an explanation for the boys, but half an hour passed without sight of her.

"A game of chess while we're waiting, Ron?" Harry said hopefully, trying to draw Ron's attention away from brooding. Ron shot Harry a look that could kill. Harry leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "There's a lot more bothering, you, Ron. A lot more than Malfoy's interesting way of showing his....affection." Ron had resumed staring at the carpet, and did his best to appear not to be listening. "Ron," Harry said, a confidence exuding from his voice. Ron still didn't look up at Harry, but his eyes closed, the lids fluttering. His hands made fists that were so tight his fingers started to turn white.

"I'm going to get him for this, Harry. I'm going to wring his bloody neck." Ron's breath was fast, and Harry thought of him as an enraged bull for a moment.

"How?"

"Think about it, Harry! The only thing Malfoy's got going for him other than the fact that's he's filthy rich is that he's a pure blood. His dad's a convicted Death Eater, and here he is," Ron's voice trailed off and Harry filled in the blank.

"In love with Hermione, a Muggle born." As Harry said it, he saw the full realization sink into Ron as if a ton of bricks had been slung over his shoulder. He slumped back into his chair, deep in thought. "Yo-you don't think, Harry," he stuttered, looking up to Harry with desperate eyes, "she'd ever...."

"No!" Harry stood from his chair, looking at Ron incredulously. "This is Hermione, Ron, not some swooning floozy like....like Pansy Parkinson! She's not shallow." Harry did his best to appear reassuring, but Ron's look hadn't improved even as he nodded in agreement. Sighing, Ron stood from his chair and looked at Harry. "I think I'll have a talk with our friend Malfoy tomorrow."

The next afternoon as Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to Snape's classroom for their Potions lesson, Ron appeared to be a man on a mission. His head was held high and Harry noticed that his chest was puffed out as if he could make himself appear larger and more foreboding. Outside the classroom, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy stood, glaring at the three of them as they approached. His eyebrows curled downwards when Ron didn't step through the doorway and instead strode right up to Malfoy. Harry continued walking by, but Hermione stopped as they reached the doorway. "What is he do-," she blurted, but Harry quickly grabbed her by the arm and dragged her through the doorway and over to the table. Hermione attempted to break free of Harry, but he refused to let her by.

"He's not doing anything wrong, Hermione, they're just....well, they're, they're talking."

"Ron and Draco Malfoy do not talk, Harry, now let me by bef-" Hermione's mouth quickly closed as Ron appeared behind Harry, taking his seat. Hermione strode by Harry and leaned down next to him. "What do you think you're doing, Ron! The last thing I need is you two making a bad situation a lot worse," Hermione was doing her best to sound threatening, but the subtle appreciation in her voice was obvious. Harry didn't even mind being implicated in Ron's crusade against Malfoy, even if he didn't have the faintest idea what Ron had said to Malfoy, who had just walked through the door, looking no less than mortified. Hermione watched Malfoy as he took his seat, not even daring a glance over in their direction. Her eyes quickly snapped to Ron and narrowed. "What did you tell him," she hissed.

Ron, smiling pleasantly, slowly turned to Hermione. "I told him he should be more careful about what he keeps in his books," he said slyly.

Hermione's eyebrows raised. "What are you talking about? His bo-"

"Ms. Granger, if you're finished running your mouth I would like to start class." Snape was standing at his desk and the rest of the class' eyes were on Hermione. Harry had quickly taken a seat when Snape had swept into the room, but Hermione had been too wrapped up in berating Ron to notice. Her cheeks flushing, Hermione quickly skidded into her chair, shooting Ron a nasty look. He simply smiled in return, obviously quite pleased with himself. Harry could only wonder what Ron said that would make Draco Malfoy too scared to insult him back.