Harry Potter and the Trelawney Prophesy

Chapter 5

Wild Magic

Harry seemed to breeze through his classes. Everything was so easy and he was doing most of it without a wand mostly out of habit.

Hermione was a tad annoyed because Harry's marks were as good as hers now (better in Transfiguration) but she kept it to herself.

Harry had made up with Ginger. If you could call it that. When Harry finally cornered her in the library and explained, she had slapped him, hard, across the face then grabbed his face and kissed him with all she was worth. After that, everything was back to normal.

But Harry was becoming very bored with his classes and soon found himself trying to find ways to amuse himself during class, even if it got him into trouble for fooling around in class.

His classmates found his little magical apparitions and transfigurations funny but his teachers didn't. He made a desk walk out of the transfiguration classroom, created a meteor shower in one of Trelawney's astrological demonstrations, transfigured a Moke into a baby dragon in Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was of course thrilled with this but quickly scolded Harry and told him to change it back.

When he transfigured Snape's cauldron into a piggy bank, even the Slytherins couldn't help their laughter.

"Who did that?" said Snape with menace as his eyes moved over the class and stopped on Harry. "As if I need to ask."

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry but he couldn't suppress his grin. "Er, slipped."

Snape quickly pulled Harry up by the collar of his robe, not easy as although still on the slim side, Harry was as tall as Snape now, and pulled him out of the dungeon.

"Tell me you didn't slip," said Snape.

"Er, no," said Harry, looking at the floor. "I knew what I was doing."

"Good," said Snape.

Harry looked up. "Why is that good?" said Harry.

Snape looked at him sternly. "Because if word got out that you couldn't control your magic, there'd be hell to pay."

Harry absorbed that information and nodded.

He stopped messing around after that and tried to concentrate on doing the work. Some of the teachers helped by giving him more challenging work. It was about week later that Harry started to notice a change in the students.

Everyone was leery of him, even some of the teachers and the change in the Slytherins was almost frightening. None of them would look him in the eye unless he addressed them (which Harry never had any need or desire to).

Malfoy was the only one who would approach him but even then, he never had anything nasty to say. It was only in public, when they had an audience that Draco would start in on them or send Harry that Malfoy sneer of his. Again Harry started to wonder what the deal was with Draco Malfoy.

Harry hung back after double potions one day and approached Severus Snape's desk.

"What is it, Potter," said Snape in his normal 'school tone,' without looking up from his notes.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry and he lowered his voice. "But what is with everyone? Do you know?"

Snape looked up at him then. "It's like the whole school is afraid of me again, like when the Chamber of Secrets was opened."

Snape looked around to make sure they were alone. "They are afraid, Harry," said Severus. "I'm sure everyone in the school has been warned by their parents not to upset you."

"But why?" said Harry.

"Well partially because of your powers, most of the students have seen it now. If you loose your temper, you could do some serious damage."

"I've learned to control my temper," muttered Harry. "Thanks to Voldemort."

Severus nodded gravely. "Yes, but most of it is because the Ministry doesn't want anything to push you toward him."

"Making everyone afraid of me doesn't help," said Harry. "It makes me feel like an outcast."

"I'm afraid you are, Harry," said Severus. "You've been singled out by Lord Voldemort. No one knows how long you'll hold out against his torture and manipulation."

"But-"

"Even I am astounded by how much you've taken from him."

"You think he'll win?" said Harry hesitantly.

"No, Harry," said Severus. "I think the wizarding world will win."

"Why?"

"Because you're very much like your father," said Severus. "You'll do what you have to do."

"Well that's encouraging," said Harry.

"Always the cynic," said Severus and he actually grinned. "But you know it's true."

Harry nodded.

"And don't forget about that little 'deal' you made with Voldemort," said Severus. "Because it is as binding as a contract."

"You know about that?"

"Yes."

"Then Dumbledore knows too," said Harry.

"Yes."

"Who-"

"Dumbledore and I are the only ones aside from you and Voldemort who know," said Severus. "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"

"No," said Harry.

"Very wise," said Severus. "Don't. If the Ministry found out they may try to lock you up."

"Voldemort doesn't think they could hold me," said Harry.

"Probably not," said Severus, "But they might try. Or-" Severus cut himself off.

"Or?" said Harry.

"You should go, Harry," said Severus. "You'll be late for Divination."

"Or?" prompted Harry again. But then it came to him. Manipulation - like Voldemort. "My friends," said Harry.

"Go to class, Potter," said Snape.

"That's it, isn't it?" said Harry.

"Just go."

Harry left feeling strange.

He let Ron on what Snape said about the Ministry during Divination as they tried to see something through the haze of the crystal ball between them. Ron had told him not to worry about it because his father would never let it happen but Harry was still apprehensive.

Trelawney approached, halting their conversation and she gazed mistily down on Harry.

"Any more dreams, my dear?"

Actually Harry hadn't had any very specific dreams about Voldemort in a while. There was one dream that he had had more than once.

It was a dream about the Burrow. All of the Weasley's, Harry and Hermione were all seated around a table. Even Sirius was there. Everyone looked older, which Harry considered odd as he was pretty sure he wasn't going to live to his next birthday. But he sat there watching all the loving teasing and bickering fly around the table. Mrs. Weasley making her complains about all of the boys.

Then Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry.

"And Harry," she said in his dream. "When are you going to let me fix your hair? I'm really very good at settling untidiness."

And in his dream, Harry had ran a hand through it and said, "Aw, Mum, lay off my hair. It will always be this way."

That Harry had called her Mum always stuck in his mind and he thought of that dream often because she was in fact the closest thing to a mother he'd known.

Harry wouldn't tell the class about that. He hadn't even told Ron about it. Dare he make one up. Always worked for them before.

"Actually, yes," said Harry. "I don't know how important it is but I had one."

"Tell us, my dear," said Trelawney. "And I will interpret it for you."

Harry glanced at Ron who shrugged.

After his conversation with Snape, the Chamber of Secrets was the first thing to come to his mind.

"I was in the Chamber of Secrets again," said Harry.

The class muttered around him and Trelawney picked up the crystal ball and peered into it.

"Yes, I see the sign of Slytherin," said Trelawney. "I also see the sign of the lion."

Harry jumped on it. "Well I was holding Godrick Gryffindor's sword."

"Yes," said Trelawney, squinting into the orb. "The skull," she added. "Your deadly enemy is there."

"Well, I didn't see Voldemort in my dream," said Harry.

The class gasped at the name and Harry looked at them with annoyance.

"Oh, stop it," said Harry. "You all know his damned name and you've all seen him."

Trelawney gasped and Harry look back at her.

"Oh, dear," said Trelawney, staring into the glass.

Harry heard Ron cover his snort.

"What?" said Harry.

Trelawney looked back at him. "What else happens in your dream, my dear?"

Harry knew a death omen coming by now. Harry sighed. "All I remember is clutching the hilt of the sword and thinking, Are you ready to die, Harry?"

The class gasped and Trelawney nodded gravely.

"I'm sorry, my dear," said Trelawney with a hand over her heart. "The grim."

Ron lost it, laughing hard. The class gasped again. Harry held back his own laughter to look back at Trelawney seriously.

"I'll do what I have to do," said Harry, echoing Severus' words.

Trelawney looked floored for a few minutes as she stared at Harry.

"Your inner eye is improving, my dear," said Trelawney. "As I knew it would and you have accepted it." She placed the foggy globe back on the table before Harry.

As she floated away, she murmured, "You are indeed the Treasure."

She dismissed the class and while the class avoided him, Ron was still laughing.

"Nice show, Harry," said Ron.

Harry shrugged.

"Finally got contact lenses for that inner eye of yours."

Harry couldn't help his laugh.

Ron stopped suddenly and turned to Harry. "You did make that up, didn't you?"

"Yes, Ron," said Harry, still grinning. "I made it up."

"Whew," said Ron. "Had me worried for a minute."

"Come on," said Harry. "Let's dump our stuff so we can get to the Halloween feast. I'm starving."

Ron laughed. "Hey, that's my line, Harry," said Ron.

Harry laughed too.

*************

A couple of weeks later, something very strange happened. Harry got sick. It wasn't strange that Harry got a cold but when it started to get worse, strange things started happening around the castle. At first no one attributed the weird happenings around the school to Harry's cold, but soon it became obvious.

The chair Professor Flitwick was standing on broke when Harry sneezed. Neville's cauldron exploded when Harry coughed. And it went on. Professor Sprout's flower pot shrank, a portrait in Transfiguration flew across the room and Hermione's quill snapped.

Ron and Hermione dragged Harry to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him with surprise.

"Sneezing?" she said.

Harry shrugged and she gave him a draft of cold medicine.

They returned to the common room and sat down to work on their homework. Ron made a joke about Hermione's quill but Harry couldn't pay attention. His Divination homework was blurring. His eye lids drooped.

Harry saw the Chamber of Secrets around him. A sword grew heavy in one hand. With a wave of the other hand, he lit several torches around the room then touched his scar.

Voldemort, he thought.

Shouldn't take long now. Are you ready to die, Harry?

Harry woke with a start and looked around.

He didn't just dream that. He didn't. It was just his homework and the damn cold.

"Yeah, that's it," muttered Harry as he collected his things. Everyone had obviously gone to bed although someone had thrown a blanket around Harry. Probably Hermione, Harry mused.

Harry made his way up to the dorm feeling tired and weak. His eyes hurt. They were red, he noticed with a glance in the mirror. But Harry had changed his lenses yesterday.

Fever, Harry considered. As strong as Harry was supposed to be as a wizard, he guessed he had no power over the virus that had attacked his body.

Harry didn't bother to change. He fell into his bed and heard Rowan singing as she landed on his chest. The pressure made him cough.

"I know you can't help me, girl," said Harry. "It's all right. I've had the flu before."

Harry woke to screams of his name.

"What?"

The room was a disaster. Curtains torn, his roommates on the floor, pictures fallen.

"What-" Harry tried again but he sneezed and a dresser fell over, the mirror shrieking.

Harry sneezed again and Rowan had to jump off her perch as it fell over.

Ron and Neville helped Harry out of bed and lead him out of the tower.

"You're burning up, Harry," said Ron.

Harry's knees went weak and he started to cough. Both Ron and Neville ducked as sparks flew around the hall.

"What is going on here?"

Severus Snape approached them. Ron and Neville straightened from ducking. Harry was still on his knees.

"Sorry Professor," said Ron. "Harry is sick. His magic is out of control."

"Potter?" said Snape.

Harry looked up and sneezed again. Four portraits fell off the walls around them. Harry felt a hand on his head.

"Yes, he's feverish," said Snape. "Longbottom, go and get Professor Dumbledore and meet us in the hospital. Weasley, help me."

They dragged Harry back to his feet and managed to get him to the Hospital wing. Harry had shoved his hands under his arms to keep his magic from shooting out wildly and he had shocked himself twice.

Albus Dumbledore arrived and once apprised of the situation, held a hand over Harry's head. A calmness come over him and Madam Pomfrey was able to put him into a bed. He drank the draft she gave him and fell instantly to sleep.

He woke up coughing and when Dumbledore, Snape and Madam Pomfrey came back, the ward was a shambles. All the pictures were on the floor, half the beds were over turned, the other half were scattered around Harry who was on the floor in the middle of the wreckage, holding his arm which he was sure was broken from being hit with flying beds.

When they found him, Dumbledore raised his hand again but that calmness didn't fall over Harry again. Harry sneezed and the three adults ducked as several bed pans flew across the room.

"Can't you stop it?" said Snape.

"No," said Dumbledore. "Harry is too strong. I can not subdue him."

"He dangerous," said Snape. "Not only to us but to himself. He's already broken his arm."

Harry sneezed again and a bed came tumbling toward him. Dumbledore stopped it.

"He should go to Voldemort," said Snape.

Madam Pomfrey gasped and Dumbledore sent her out of the room telling her there was nothing she could do for Harry right now.

"No," said Dumbledore. "With his fever he might end up in the middle of the lake." He lowered himself before Harry, who was still on his knees, cradling his arm. "Harry," said Dumbledore. "Call Voldemort."

Harry's vision and his hearing was blurred and muffled.

"What?" rasped Harry, his voice hoarse from coughing.

"Call Voldemort," said Dumbledore.

Harry put his palm to his scar. Voldemort.

Harry felt the pain almost immediately.

"What is going on?" demanded Voldemort as he quickly looked around.

"Be easy, Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "We need your help."

"Albus, what has happened here? I heard Harry call me."

"Harry is ill," said Dumbledore. "He can not control his magic."

Harry sneezed and a side table flew across the room.

"Harry," said Voldemort. "Where are you, my boy?"

Beds went flying away from him and Harry looked up as pain grew in his head. He met Voldemort's red gaze.

"I feel terrible," rasped Harry.

Harry closed his eyes as Voldemort's hand reached out and rested against his cheek.

"Mmm, yes," said Voldemort. "You are burning with strong fever."

"Can you help him?" said Snape.

Voldemort stared into Harry's eyes. "The only way I can think of to subdue him," said Voldemort, "is to drain his strength until the malady runs it's coarse."

"Do it Voldemort," said Harry weakly. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Voldemort turned to Dumbledore.

"I can not isolate him here," said Dumbledore.

Voldemort turned to Snape. "Heal his arm, Severus," said Voldemort.

Harry sneezed and another bed came at him. Voldemort stopped it before it hit them and took a hold of Harry's chin.

"Be still, Harry," said Voldemort.

Harry closed his eyes against the pain while Severus fixed his arm.

"I will need Severus," said Voldemort holding Harry's gaze again. "Harry will need his drafts."

"Very well," said Dumbledore.

Voldemort let go of Harry and straightened. Harry slumped to the floor, feeling weaker than ever.

"Professor Snape," said Harry again in a hoarse rasp. "Bring some Tylenol."

Voldemort chuckled. "Very amusing, Harry."

Dumbledore had grinned as well but Snape looked confused.

"It is a muggle headache remedy, Severus," said Voldemort.

Harry sneezed again and a painting flew across the room, it's occupant shrieking.

"Take him, Voldemort," said Dumbledore.

Harry screamed as Voldemort's arm came around his chest and he pulled Harry to his feet. Snape took his arm.

"Harry," said Voldemort. "You must focus on me."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes.