The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Nineteen: Bad News Travels Fastest

It was Cho, her cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hear that, but, well..." she made a gesture that said that half the school had probably heard it. Harry let his head drop back down on the bed again before standing up.

"No, it's okay. What can I do for you?"

"I brought you some food," she said, picking a tray up from the floor. "Pork chops, roast potatoes, peas and apple tart for dessert."

"Thanks," Harry said, suddenly ravenous.

"Well, you didn't seem to eat much at dinner," she said. She set the tray down on Harry's bed, and while he made a start on the food, she swished her wand and collected all the shreds of the Howler, depositing them neatly in the bin.

"I wasn't hungry," Harry said, swallowing a mouthful of roast potato.

"I can see that," she grinned, arching an eyebrow at the already half-empty plate.

"Yeah, well..." Harry tailed off, not wanting to say anything else. "Thanks, though. You didn't have to do this."

"It's okay. I know Madam Pomfrey tries her best, but she's a nurse, not a cook."

Harry looked around, making sure the school nurse was in her room before nodding his agreement.

"D'you want to sit down?" he gestured at the end of the bed.

"Thanks. So, when's your next match?"

"Um," Harry thought for a second while chewing a mouthful of peas. "Two weeks on Saturday, we're playing Hufflepuff."

"Watch out for their Beaters," Cho said. "They were putting a lot of Bludgers my way."

"I'll bear it in mind," Harry said, filing the comment away. In truth, he had contingency plans worked out for every strategy the Hufflepuffs might try, but he was still glad of the other Seeker's point of view.

Cho was picking at a darn in Harry's sheet. "Um," she said, uncertainly.

"Yes?" Harry asked, a forkful of potato halfway to his mouth.

"Did you really resign as Quidditch captain?"

"Yes," he said, shoveling the potatoes into his mouth.

"Why?" she asked, genuine bewilderment in his voice.

"Because I wasn't any good at it," Harry said shortly. "Ron was born to captain the team, and having me second guess him was pointless."

"But you were coming up with good tactics," she said. "I know it was you who worked out how to beat Slytherin."

"I can still do that," Harry said. "It's just there's no point to me being captain when all I was doing was agreeing with Ron. Besides, I've got enough to do as it is."

"I've heard. You're tutoring now?"

"Yeah. The Duelling Club is fun, but without magic I'm not much good in front of a crowd. In a smaller group, I can be much more effective. How often do you see Professor McGonagall actually transfigure anything? In a small group, I won't be expected to be this incredible wizard who can do any spell. But I can try and teach any spell."

"It's a lot to ask of one person," Cho said.

"Dumbledore can do it," Harry said. His expression changed, hardening. "I bet Voldemort could, as well."

"You're only sixteen, Harry," Cho said in alarm. "You can't believe you can do what they can. They're the most powerful wizards for centuries."

"I'm not saying it's easy, just that I have to try. Everyone expects great things of me. I can't let them down."

"And what about your friends, Harry?" Cho asked. "What about Ginny, Ron, and Hermione? As far as I can tell, they don't expect anything of you, except for your time."

"Did they send you?" he asked, scowling. "Anyway, it's time I don't have. It was better for them that I make the clean break now than a messy one later." His voice faltered slightly. "Besides, they wouldn't understand what I have to do."

"Did you give them the chance?" Cho asked. But Harry ignored the question, and any crack that had appeared in the image he projected disappeared.

"Thank you for dinner," he said. "As I said, I've a lot of work to do. If you don't mind?"

Cho didn't have much choice. She stood up and headed for the door, glancing back as she was about to leave. Harry was already absorbed in a textbook, deaf to the world around him.

What are you hiding, Harry? She wondered, as she headed for the west wing and the Ravenclaw common room.. I know that there's something you're not telling us.

*

Friday was Harry's last day in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey bid him farewell with a stern admonishment not to over exert himself.

"You're still not able to cast even the simplest spell," she said. "Don't deny it! You are getting better," she added grudgingly, as though this was hardly sufficient reason for him to be let out of the hospital wing. "However, your recovery is going much slower then I would have expected. If the Headmaster didn't feel that you needed to be attending lessons..."

"I'm sure Potter understands, Madam Pomfrey," Professor Skeeter said. She had appeared minutes earlier and told Harry that she would be accompanying him back to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't seem to have much say in the matter, and was rather grateful for her taking his pile of clean clothes as they left the hospital wing. There were times when he still felt rather weak.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, before Skeeter suddenly asked, "What happened with the Boggart, Potter?"

"I arranged to tackle it with Ron, but rather than make him face his worst fear, I decided to do it alone," Harry said dully, as though this explained everything.

"As I understand it, you've not had problems with Dementors for a long while," Skeeter commented. "Why was Halloween so different?"

"I was tired," Harry said distantly. "I couldn't focus."

Skeeter gave Harry a look that said plainly that she didn't believe him, but she let the matter drop.

Harry sighed. Clearly no one was going to believe what he said about that night.

"What are you going to do about the Duelling Club?" Skeeter asked. Harry stopped for a second before replying.

"What can I do?" he asked. "I can't do magic, I can't help with your weapons training. To be honest, I was thinking that I might show up and practise under you and Dean. I can borrow someone's Gladius, Ron or someone." He was a little bit proud that his voice hadn't caught on Ron's name. It was starting to feel more natural not to think of him as a friend.

"If you're serious, then I am certain we can do better then that," Skeeter replied. "I'm sure you know what's in a glass case behind Dumbledore's desk, yes?"

Harry thought back, and this time he did feel a pang of guilt. The last time that he had been in Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster and Hagrid had talked him into giving a relationship with Ginny Weasley the chance it deserved. Now it had run it course, and it felt as though a part of his life was...

He wrenched his mind away from thoughts of Ginny, and thought instead of Dumbledore's office. In a glass case, behind the Headmaster's desk was...

"Godric Gryffindor's sword!"

"Correct. I am sure that the Headmaster will have no objection to you borrowing it."

Harry smiled slightly. He remembered how the sword had appeared from the school Sorting Hat when he had been in the Chamber of Secrets because-

He winced, the thought painful in his mind.

"Potter? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "I just need some more sleep. I've got a lot of work to do."

They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Skeeter looked at Harry, concern evident on her face.

"Well, don't overdo it. I expect you to be able to last the pace in class on Monday."

"Wouldn't miss it," Harry managed, as the tiredness hit him again. He was becoming frustrated with the irregular bouts of exhaustion, but was resigned to their continuing until his magic began to return. The Fat Lady swung open without him giving the password ("Just this once! And for the record, it's 'Inconceivable.'")

"Right, thanks," Harry yawned, as he clambered through the portrait hole, his clothes heavy in his arms.

"Back for five seconds and you're bored of us already? Sorry we're not interesting enough for the amazing Harry Potter."

It was Ron, standing in front of Harry with his arms crossed and a forbidding look on his face.

"Now, would you mind moving, oh great one, or do I have to ask your permission to go to the library?"

Harry went to step aside silently, but Ron pushed past roughly. Harry's clothes flew from his hands, and Harry staggered backwards, toppling over a footstool. Ron paused at the portrait hole, seemingly about to turn back and help Harry up, or even apologise, but his expression hardened again, and he disappeared from sight.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asked, offering his hand to help Harry up.

"Yeah..." Harry said tiredly, letting Neville pull him upright. "Just, just lost my balance is all."

Neville gave Harry a look that said that he knew he wasn't telling the truth. Harry was getting very good at recognising it.

"I used to lose my balance a lot," Neville said. "Still do, sometimes, when Crabbe and Goyle are around."

Harry gave Neville a sympathetic look. "If they're giving you trouble, I could-"

"No, it's fine," Neville said. "They can't do anything really bad. I just laugh at them most of the time. You don't let things like that bother you, so why should I?"

"Thanks, I think," Harry said.

"I meant it in a good way," Neville laughed. "Lots of people look up to you. I'm one of them. You get on with stuff, don't make a fuss, and you do what you think is right. Gran says my Mum and Dad were like that."

"Neville, I-" Harry stopped short. He wasn't supposed to know what had happened to Neville's parents, but he'd found out in his fourth year by accident. When Neville was a baby, they had been tortured until they lost their minds, and ever since then, they had been in hospital. It occurred to Harry with a start that they were probably in St Mungo's, as Sirius was. Harry felt a wave of guilty embarrassment over making such a fuss about Sirius. He too often forgot that Neville had it every bit as bad as he did, if not worse. Harry's determination to carry on with his attempt to be the person he was expected to be grew stronger as he looked at Neville. He thought of his friend's efforts in the Hogsmeade battle six months before. Neville had fought back Dementors with one of the very few fully corporeal Patronuses cast by a Hogwarts student. His Patronus had been a fair-haired man who looked much as Harry imagined an older Neville would look. Harry was sure that it had been Neville's father, Frank Longbottom. Harry had helped Neville cast that Patronus, had unknowingly helped him stand up to Crabbe and Goyle.

Yes, Harry thought. I'm doing the right thing. I must be.

"I was wondering if you needed any help with your work," he continued out loud. "I know you always struggle with Potions, but Hermione helps you with that, and to be honest, I'm pretty dreadful too."

Neville looked at Harry carefully. "Um, well, Transfiguration is what I'm most having trouble with, really," he said. "I just don't get the Switching Spell."

"I can help with that," Harry said, stifling a yawn. "What bit are you stuck on?"

"I think it's the wand waving. I just can't think what else it would be. I've been stuck on it for over two years. I was really lucky it didn't come up on the O.W.Ls."

"Mmm," Harry agreed, taking a seat opposite Neville and resisting the urge to sink back into the plush armchair and doze off. "Well, let's see it."

Neville set up a goblet and a notebook next to one another on the table.

"If I do it right, the book should go metallic like the goblet," he muttered.

"Yeah," Harry said, struggling to stay awake.

Neville waved his wand, and muttered an incantation under his breath. The book burst into flames and, before Harry could do anything, Neville snatched up the goblet and tipped the water inside onto the flames.

"Keeps happening," he muttered, looking embarrassedly at Harry.

But Harry was slumped, fast asleep, in the armchair.

"I didn't think it was that bad," Neville sighed, before picking up an undamaged notebook and starting over.

*

Harry awoke with a start several hours later. He looked around wildly, unable at first to work out where he was. Then his eyes adjusted to the poor light given off by the dying embers in the fireplace and he recognised the outlines of the Gryffindor common room. He settled back in the chair, realising that someone had covered him with a blanket.

What now? Do I go up to the dormitory? Can't see Ron being happy with that. Maybe I'll just sleep on the sofa.

He looked over at the sofa, and his stomach lurched as he realised someone was already sleeping there.

Harry stood up, his joints protesting at his sleeping in the armchair. Walking towards the sofa, he realised that it was Hermione who had fallen asleep there. He tried to work out why she was there.

No books, no quill, no parchment. She wasn't working. Maybe she had an argument with Ron? But why not just go up to her dormitory?

With a start, Harry realised that Hermione was there to keep an eye on him. Another guilty pang bit hard, but Harry ignored it. He stared at Hermione for a long time, mulling over how he could convince her to go up to her dormitory. In the end, he settled for shaking her shoulder gently, until a snort and a groan told him she was awake.

"Hermione, go to bed," Harry ordered.

"Mmmm?" Hermione looked up, her bleary gaze finally focussing on Harry's piercing green eyes.

"Go to bed, Hermione. It's freezing down here."

And with that, Harry turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the common room and up the stairs towards the boys' dormitories.

Hermione sat for a long time in silence, and then let out an exasperated sigh before making her way up to her own dormitory.

*

Ron awoke the next morning with a scowl on his face. He'd argued the night before with Hermione, and had stormed off to bed without thinking of apologising. He stared angrily at the canopy over his four poster bed, but after a few minutes knew that he was doing no one any good by sulking.

I need to see Hermione, he decided. Apologise to her about last night. If she wants to chase after Harry, that's up to her. It's not my place to say if she's wrong or right. I hope she didn't spend all night on the couch, though. I should have checked, or taken her a blanket, or something.

He sighed, and was about to get up when someone spoke.

"Ron, are you awake?"

Ron drew his curtain back slowly.

"Harry?"

"Ron, did you make Hermione stay downstairs last night?"

Something in Harry's tone stung Ron. It was as though Harry was insinuating that Hermione staying downstairs had been stupid, therefore it must have been Ron's idea.

"No, I didn't," he snapped. "She did it off her own bat. Don't know why she bothered, personally."

"Neither do I," Harry said calmly. "If you see her, tell her that I don't need babysitting."

"I will," Ron said shortly. "Like I said, don't know why she bothered."

With that, Ron banged out of the dormitory, and disappeared from view.

Harry let out a deep breath.

"Well, that should keep Ron off my back."

*

Hermione was just coming down from the girls dormitory as Ron arrived angrily in the common room.

"Ron," she said coolly, not wanting to so easily forgive him for their argument the night before.

Ron drove a fist hard into a sofa cushion, before taking a deep, shuddering breath and scowling.

"I wanted to apologise," he said. "You have every right to chase after Harry and try and make him see that he's a complete idiot. Thing is, he's such a git that I don't reckon you've got much chance of getting through to him."

Hermione blinked several times, taking this in.

"Did you two speak?"

"Yeah, we had a nice little conversation," Ron spat out. "He said to tell you that you needn't bother chasing after him and that he doesn't need babysitting."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. "Well, that's his tough luck, really, isn't it?"

"Ye- What?"

"Ron, I don't believe for a second that Harry really thinks that what he's doing is right."

"Hermione, he said it himself. Leave him alone."

"Oh Ron, he wouldn't say that if we weren't getting to him. You know what Harry's like. He probably thinks that being friends with him will make us targets."

Ron paused to think about this.

"So when he had that run in with the Boggart Dementor thing, you think..."

"I think he relived seeing Ginny in the Chamber, you with those big spiders-"

"-and you in the hospital wing," Ron finished. "I dunno. He could've just said that, instead of going through all this."

"That's never been Harry's way," Hermione said. "He'd do it all on his own if he could, and now he thinks he has an excuse."

Ron shook his head, not convinced. "I'm not sure, Hermione," he said. "He really seems different. I can't imagine Harry being bad to Ginny unless something really changed with him. Us, maybe, yeah. Not Ginny."

Hermione looked at Ron.

"I can't just give up on him," she said. "Not after everything he's done for us."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I think you're wrong, and I can't forgive him for being so foul to Ginny. I... I won't get in your way, won't try and stop you, but I can't help you with this. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said. "It's more than I expected. I was worried that you might, well, break up with me."

Ron grinned. "That's another thing you'll have to do by yourself. You'll get no help from me if you ever decide we should break up."

"That," Hermione said with an impish grin, "is a lot more than okay."

And she stood up on tiptoe to kiss him firmly on the lips.

*

Ginny didn't begrudge anyone their happiness, but she still soured slightly when she went downstairs to find Hermione kissing her brother in the middle of the common room. It certainly wasn't how she'd planned on starting her day.

She made her way out through the portrait hole in silence, hoping to catch Luna or Daniella or any of her other friends at breakfast.

She was in luck, meeting Luna as the two girls crossed the Entrance Hall and approached the Great Hall.

"You should sleep more," Luna declared, after having to repeat herself for the third time.

"Thanks, Luna. I know I look terrible. There's no need to rub it in."

"I suppose that you could look better, but that's not what I meant. You lie awake and worry about Harry, and you're exhausting yourself. I'm sure that it's not good for you," she said with considerable understatement.

"What do you suggest, Dr Lovegood?" Ginny asked, picking at her bacon unenthusiastically.

"The Quibbler has a competition in which you can win a pet from Ballymena Zoo. You could enter and win a familiar."

"Ballymena Zoo? Luna, the only animals they have there are wild beasts. Hagrid keeps trying to arrange field trips there, but it's way too dangerous! I'm not surprised they're trying to give some of those things away. Why on earth would I want one?"

"Well, it would give you something to do other than mooning around over Harry Potter."

"Luna, I'm sorry if I'm boring you, but I miss Harry. I can't help that."

"I understand that. I think having a familiar would help you get over him."

"I'm not going to get over him! I love him!"

In all her life, Ginny had never experienced a moment in time when she could have heard a pin drop. A large family and a wild school life had prevented her from finding that perfect moment of silence.

But at that precise moment, the Great Hall fell silent. Professor Dumbledore had risen to make an announcement, and the Sunday breakfast crowd was small enough that there was actually true silence.

Except for Ginny's heated outburst.

Ginny flushed red with anger and embarrassment, and stood up abruptly. Luna stared placidly at her, as though this revelation was nothing other that obvious. But Ginny had never before said the words, even to Hermione.

And never, not even once, to Harry. And now the whole school will know.

A lifetime of sharing a house and a school with her six older brothers had left Ginny with swear words for every occasion, including a few she'd invented herself. But she couldn't for the life of her think of one that adequately expressed how she felt at that precise moment.

Grabbing Luna's hand, she dragged her friend out of the Great Hall and into the corridor beyond. She heard the crowd start talking again, animatedly and loudly.

"There were kippers on the menu for the next course," Luna said mildly. "I like kippers."

"Don't worry about kippers, Luna," Ginny said. "You're right. I really, really need to get over Harry. That was the worst moment of my life, and it's all because of him. Well, I'm sick of it. That sort of thing was supposed to stop when we got together, and I'll be, well, I'll be damned if I'm going to let it start happening again. I'll need your help."

Luna nodded. "I think I've still got the latest Quibbler in my bag," she began.

"But not the Ballymena beasts, Luna. Please. Do you have any other ideas?"

Luna blinked slowly, then said, "Yes. Lisa Turpin is always breaking up with boys. She always says that it's best to just move on to the next one."

"I don't know if I'm ready to move on," Ginny said.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a real relationship, I suppose," Luna said. "But maybe you could make some other male friends? That big American boy is in your year, although Dad says that Americans try and gouge him for more money then they're worth, so he may be rather an unextravagant date."

Ginny tried to imagine herself going out with Josh Cochran, but her mind rebelled. "No, not Josh. He's too tall. I'm only 5'2, Luna."

"Well then, what about other Gryffindor boys? I would try and arrange something with a boy in my house, but, well, you know."

Ginny smiled. She did know. Luna's often obscure conversation and slightly off-beat appearance - today she was wearing her favourite radish earrings and had her wand shoved down one of her socks - had led to her being given the nickname 'Loony'. A lot of people had judged her solely on her reputation, and even Ginny had been a little intimidated when the two of them had been paired off during Muggle Studies in their third year. Luna's first words to her had been "Hello. You're Ginny Weasley. You opened the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know anything about electricity?"

Ginny had never found out how Luna knew that she had been the one opening the Chamber, but she did know a lot about electricity, thanks to her father. By the end of the class, the two girls had been fast friends and Ginny, who had previously had trouble making friends at Hogwarts, quickly found herself settling in.

Looking at Luna now, she grinned.

"Tell you what," she said. "Let's not worry about stupid boys right now. Let's let them worry about us."

At that moment, Harry came downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall and with a muttered "Excuse me," walked around the girls and into the Great Hall.

Ginny beamed.

"If I were hung up on Harry Potter, I'd be watching him now, wouldn't I?"

"You're forcing yourself not to," Luna pointed out.

"One step at a time," Ginny said, laughing at herself. "Now, as I made you miss breakfast, would you like some chocolate?"

"No, thank you. The Quibbler had an article on exactly what they put in chocolate. Some of the spells are extremely hazardous to your health."

"Luna, it's chocolate. There are no spells on chocolate. Muggles have chocolate. There's no magic in chocolate."

Luna just looked at her.

"Okay, there's poisonous spells in chocolate. I don't care! I'm giving up Harry, I'm not giving up chocolate too!"

Luna watched her carefully. Ginny sighed.

"Go and get your kippers then," she said.

*

Harry finished his breakfast without incident, other than deflecting with his goblet Seamus' attempt to fire a kipper into the middle of his scrambled eggs with a Weasley Food Fight Four Thousand. He also agreed to tutor Seamus on the Shield charm the following evening, after working with Ravenclaw's Su Li on her Care of Magical Creatures essay.

As he left, he saw Hagrid trying to catch his eye. He pretended not to see his friend, dashing past with his head down. The guilty pang he felt this time was much stronger than he'd anticipated, but Hagrid had been the one who had rescued him from the Dursleys more than five years before.

It's all for the best, Potter, Harry told himself as he pushed his way through a crowd of second years and out of the Hall.

*

Later that day, Harry made his way wearily up the stairs to the dormitory. He'd spent the morning working harder than he could ever remember working, trying hard to bring his Potions work up to scratch. After an hour of trying, and failing, to get his Anasthesia draft to the same consistency that the textbook required, he found himself thinking longingly of asking Hermione for help.

That's not an option, he thought with a scowl. That's fine. I need to be able to do this stuff myself, not just rely on Hermione. Now, concentrate.

To his great surprise, ten minutes later the potion was the correct consistency, colour and - he took a cautious sniff at the fumes - smell. With that success behind him, he set to work on the Pepper Up potion. He got it right first time, although well outside the time Snape would have allowed in a practical lesson. He made a note that he had to improve his speed at preparing Potions ingredients, then hurriedly packed his bag, tidied up and dashed off to the library to work with Neville on the Switching spell.

But now Harry had two hours free, two hours where he could catch up on his sleep. He looked at his watch; it was barely two o' clock, but he was already exhausted. Madam Pomfrey's stern admonishment about over exerting himself rung in his ears. He shook his head weakly to try and clear his thoughts, but it just made his head swim. Opening the door to his dormitory, he willed himself inside before dropping onto his bed.

He reached up to take off his glasses, and jumped as his hand brushed against something soft and feathery. Looking up, he saw a large barn owl sitting haughtily on his headboard. The owl had a familiar looking crest on a chain around its neck. Harry blinked several times, his eyes slowly swimming into focus. He recognised the crest as being the same as the one on the owl that had brought Remus' last letter from St Mungo's. His pulse quickened as he took the letter from the owl's talons. The owl gave a proud, satisfied hoot, spread its wings and took off, soaring out through the open dormitory window.

Harry barely noticed. His mouth was suddenly very dry, and his throat had tightened painfully. He dreaded opening the letter and it being bad news. While he knew that neither Remus nor Dumbledore would deliberately hurt him, his hands still shook as he opened the letter.

Dear Harry,

I wish that it was good news I was bringing you with this letter, but I'm afraid it's not.

Snuffles' condition hasn't improved since we last spoke. The doctors still have no clue what's wrong with him.

I'm hoping I'll have better news to report in my next letter. Dumbledore is arranging for a number of foreign mediwizards to come and visit. Someone, somewhere, knows how to cure Snuffles.

He's not getting any worse, Harry, we can take some consolation from that. He's a stubborn mutt, and it'll take more than some poisoned meat to put him out of the running.

I hope that you're feeling better. I've only heard vague stories of people draining all their magic before, so I'm quite interested in hearing how you're getting on.

I hope you're paying attention to what I said earlier. If nothing else, being here really hammers home how important friends are. Being a werewolf means that I haven't made many friends, and I hate the thought of losing another one. Don't put yourself through that. Keep your friends close, Harry.

I'll speak to you soon, and hopefully I'll have better news for you.

Give my regards to the others. You're all welcome to write any time you want. I'm not exactly rushed off my feet here,

Moony

Harry read over the letter several times before taking a quill and parchment from his bedside table. Pushing his weariness aside, he scribbled a short reply.

Moony,

Everything here is fine. I'm feeling loads better, almost back to normal-

Harry stopped to yawn hugely. Looking back at the parchment, he scowled at the huge ink blot that had dropped from his quill and automatically reached for his wand to clean it up. He was halfway through the incantation when he remembered his lack of magic and sighed, his wand dropping from his suddenly limp grip. He soaked up the excess ink with a torn robe and continued writing on the other side of the blot.

I'm remembering what you said, don't worry. I'm making sure everyone is okay here. You worry about Snuffles, and I'll take care of everyone else.

If you can, let Snuffles know I'm thinking about him. Keep me up to date, and don't neglect your health either

Harry

Harry set the letter aside for sending later, and fell into a deep, exhaustion fueled sleep before his head even touched the pillow.

To be continued...