Book of Memories

Chapter 8: RON'S PREDICTION

As Harry predicted, Defense Against the Dark Arts only got worse as another class loomed.

"When are we going to finish this," said Harry whose head was now covered by the textbook with himself on the cover. Professor Delacour didn't answer, she just kept going over theories as to how one might survive an Avada Kedavra. When the bell rang ten minutes later, Harry was the first out the door.

"At least her English is improving," said Ron. It was a feeble attempt to cheery Harry up.

"Come on, I'm hungry," he said, and then walked silently to the Great Hall for lunch as Ron and Hermione tried to get him to speak.

Peeves, the school poltergeist, swept past them in the entrance hall muttering something about how he wished he had a scar on his forehead, too.

"Ignore him," said Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. He was a fair-aged wizard who, in an unfortunate accident involving an axe hitting his neck over forty times, died without a proper decapitation. "Argus has been trying to get him thrown out for years."

"I know," said Harry, "and he hasn't succeeded yet. It's the only thing everyone agrees with him on."

"Is Potter moping around again?" someone yelled from the Slytherin table. Lunch hadn't started yet so the Great Hall was empty except, of course, for Malfoy and his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle and Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Harry began to slightly overtake Draco Malfoy in height but this was just a minor setback in Malfoy's plans to further upset Harry.

Nearly Headless Nick zoomed over to Malfoy. Harry didn't watch, but when Nick came back, he was wearing a smirk. By the looks on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, Nick had shown them why he was called Nearly Headless Nick. Nick had indeed shown Harry, Ron and Hermione in their first year during the Sorting Feast and it was no pretty sight to behold.

"You didn't..." scowled Hermione.

Nearly Headless Nick winked at Harry.

Quidditch practice would start again soon. That night after dinner, Harry would resume his position as "the best Seeker since Charlie Weasley," according to Professor McGonagall. "In fact, better! Weasley, you're going to stay as team captain I hope?" she added to Ron. Harry and Ron were in Professor McGonagall's classroom with Kylie Randal, a Beater, and Craig Stone, their Keeper.

"Yes," replied Ron, beaming.

"Good, good." She clapped her hands in delight. "Now, unfortunately our excellent Chasers Johnson, Spinnet and Bell were all in their seventh year. Saturday morning, report to the Quidditch field after breakfast. There will be one Gryffindor fourth year, two fifth and one sixth all who wish to become Chasers."

"Not a very wide select-" started Ron but,

"-tion I know but you will find three who fit the bill."

Potions started out on a good note and it looked like Snape and Sirius were on speaking terms. This all changed abruptly.

"You will cut up the dragon heart and place HALF OF THE STRIPS in a temporary cauldron," Snape was explaining. There was a vein throbbing in his head. He clearly thought someone was going to mess this up. "Pour a quarter cup of bezoar into your first cauldron. You will then squeeze the juice out of your Nundu tongue into the temporary cauldron. DO - NOT - MESS - THIS - UP as Nundus are highly dangerous creatures and I was lucky to be able to obtain such a rare potion ingredient. Cut the tongue up and place all of it in your first cauldron. Stir up the temporary cauldron, let both sit for thirty minutes and pour the temporary cauldron into the first cauldron. Let it sit for fifteen minutes and put the second half of dragon heart strips into the cauldron. This completes the potion.

"Four to a potion. Weasley, Potter, Granger... you will assist Longbottom. This potion cures almost any poison and almost any disease."

As the class collected the ingredients, Snape wrote the directions onto the blackboard.

"This stuff is disgusting," said Hermione. She held up a dragon heart in her hand as Harry cut it.

"Maybe we can poison Snape and when he's about to die, give him some of this," suggested Harry. "Oh and Neville, just don't do anything except the pouring. We'll hand you the cups and tell you exactly where to pour them, okay?" Neville nodded. "If all goes right, this potion will end up perfect and I can poison him tomorrow afternoon." Harry grinned as he threw half of the dragon heart strips into their first cauldron. He didn't see, but Hermione was giving him a disgusted look.

"Oh come on, Hermione," said Ron. "He was just joking." She was now giving Ron that same look.

"Here Neville, pour this into that cauldron," Hermione told him, handing him a quarter cup of bezoar. All three of them watched to make sure Neville didn't mess up and he didn't -- yet.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"Look up at the blackboard, Ron," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "It's all written down." She turned to Harry. "You squeeze the juice out of that tongue, I don't think my lunch will last."

He did so, picturing it was Snape's, into the temporary cauldron.

"I thought carving flesh and using our blood was disgusting but these tongues are downright nasty," said Ron. A Nundu tongue was about as long as Harry's arm and black in color with a hint of red about it. Harry folded it over itself and squeezed as hard as he could. Hermione turned away. Harry kept picturing it to be Snape's tongue.

"I think that's all of it," said Harry brightly. "Good, now there's no need to worry it was squeezed into the wrong cauldron."

"Ha!" said Ron. "Look at Malfoy!"

Malfoy was pushing the tongue toward Crabbe, who pushed it towards Goyle, who pushed it towards Pansy Parkinson and who in turn pushed it back to Malfoy. Snape grabbed the tongue and with one tight, hard twist, all the juice came out of it.

"Hand me those scissors, Neville -- thanks," said Ron. "Hermione, you think that was gross?" Harry gave Ron the tongue and he proceeded to cut it into strips, letting them fall into the first cauldron. "Nothing wrong so far, eh?"

Harry stirred the temporary cauldron humming to himself the names of all the disease-causing potions he knew. When thirty minutes were up, he poured the temporary cauldron into the first cauldron.

"This is such boring work," said Harry.

"We only have one lovely year left, Potter," said Snape's cold voice right behind him. "Let's try to make it pleasant, shall we?" Harry watched as Snape dashed over to Parvati Patil who had almost dropped Nundu tongue strips into the wrong cauldron. "Idiot girl!" he hissed. "Ten points!"

"For a minute there I was going to ask why he was being so nice," said Harry. Ron shrugged.

"There's no point in trying to figure him out," said Hermione reassuringly. "He still holds a grudge against you for your father and that's how many years old now?"

"I guess," said Harry and after fifteen minutes, they left Neville toss in the remaining dragon heart strips. They were the first ones finished and as the potion bubbled, fizzed, turned rainbow colored and then burned a hole through the bottom of the cauldron, Snape lost it completely. There was fire in his black eyes and the faint smile he had been wearing was exchanged for a look of rancorous hatred.

"THAT WAS NOT THE HEART OF A DRAGON, POTTER! THAT WAS A NUNDU HEART! FIFTY POINTS!"

Harry gritted his teeth. For all everyone knew, all the hearts on Snape's desk looked, smelled and felt exactly the same. Anger like he hadn't felt all summer coursed through him like the poison he wished he could administer on Snape.

"HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW!" Harry roared back. "THEY ALL LOOK, SMELL AND FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME!"

"FIFTY MORE POINTS AND A DETENTION!"

Harry whacked the cauldron with the hole in the bottom, sending it crashing into their temporary cauldron. It went far faster and harder than he intended and upon impact, it didn't just knock it over, it careened into the other cauldron and both of them exploded into fragments so fine they were merely dust. The impact sound was so loud that not only did everyone pin their hands to their ears, Harry could still hear the ringing in his own as he stormed towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Flobberworm," he said gruffly.

"Harry?" said Craig as Harry entered the commons. Craig had his head in a Harry Potter: Lucky or Legendary but looked up at the real Harry immediately. "Don't you have Potions now?"

"Had," said Harry hotly. "I expect I'll be thrown out of it by tomorrow."

"Why? What happened?"

"No idea. We were making a potion and somehow I picked up a Nundu heart instead of a dragon heart. Burned a hole right through the cauldron when it finished. Snape decided to take fifty points from us. I yelled at him and he took another fifty and gave me a detention. Then I broke two cauldrons. I don't want to know how a Nundu heart got mixed with a bunch of dragon hearts. Suppose he wanted me to pick it up... must've been why he was smiling. See you at dinner," he added casually, climbing the stairs to his dormitory.

Harry didn't think at all about how the two cauldrons exploded into a fine dust. For all he was concerned, he just didn't know his own strength. When dinner came, Hermione took the time to explain that Snape was angry with himself for mixing a Nundu heart among the dragon hearts.

"...and he said he won't take points away from Gryffindor but you still get detention for smashing the cauldrons. He'll tell you where it is next class."

Harry grunted a fine-but-I-still-hate-him grunt and grabbed a chicken leg from the huge plate in front of him. Hermione was biting her nails, apparently wondering whether to ask something.

"Harry, why did those two cauldrons explode into dust?"

He looked up at her and said simply, "I pushed it a little too hard."

For once, Harry found solace in Divination. As always, the misty smoke and heat of the room made everyone slightly dizzy. Professor Trelawney often said it heightened your senses. Harry often said it made him want to throw up.

"Many things, we have covered," said Professor Trelawney.

She readjusted her shawl importantly, making the glint from her pearls pierce Harry's eye. He shifted in his seat to take the annoying glare away from his glasses and she looked at him through her own glasses. He wished she would take those off or at the very least exchange them for new ones. The effect they had on her eyes was freaky as they made them look far too big for her face. Professor Trelawney was still very thin, almost disproportionate and at first glance, Harry swore she was a large insect.

If it was possible, she was wearing more beads, chains and necklaces than usual. If she put on a few more, the back of her neck might start to cave in. On second thought, that might not be a bad thing, thought Harry. With a slight sense of foreboding himself, Harry grabbed the Order of Merlin plaque and held it tightly. He still couldn't answer himself why this made him feel better.

"Today we will see who among you are true Seers and who are just trying to fill up your schedules." At this, she glared at Harry. For a brief moment, she looked to be suspecting Harry of the latter and to no one's surprise, her face slowly sank into the tragic expression that to him, by now, was expected. If she didn't give him this look, something was wrong.

"We have been studying dreams and visions since the start of the term two weeks ago. Dreams and visions," she said slowly, "can tell us more than anything else." Her eyes left Harry's and to his relief, gazed around the room. Harry let go of the plaque and sat up straight. "They are a direct encounter with what is to happen and nothing can be more accurate."

Harry felt the heat rising in his face and his shoulders tensing up. He shifted uneasily in his seat. Since his first year at Hogwarts, he had had dreams of Lord Voldemort and not only nightmares, but dreams that turned out to be true.

Harry and Ron exchanged dark looks. Their first year of Divination, it was the grim, a bad omen, that Professor Trelawney thought was going to foretell Harry's death. Their second year, she continued to predict Harry's death and their third year she had been abusing the mark of ancients that ran through his blood.

This year it was going to be total embarrassment. Did she find out about Harry's dreams? Several times had he been seen at school in agony from his scar but only twice had it been from a dream while he was... was asleep during a class.

The heat in his face reached the point of almost causing him to sweat. When was his name going to come up? What was she going to have him do? Although no one was staring at him yet, he was waiting for it, looking around, contorting his face up in what he hoped was an innocent look. He put a hand to his chin and grabbed the plaque again, all in a fashion so it would look like he was just bored. Ron glanced at him nervously.

"Dreams and visions do not ever lie," she continued, staring at Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, both of whom were looking up at Professor Trelawney in a kind of ecstasy of excitement. Harry would never understand why they found such a class so fascinating. "They are easy to interpret as they portend events exactly as they are without mixed sign or symbol. The inner eye of a true Seer can see whatever he or she wants, whenever... he or she wants. One needs to relax and let the vibrations stimulate them."

Ron had another kind of stimulation in mind. There was a strong urge in his legs to leave.

"Now, how much have you gathered thus far." Professor Trelawney turned in Harry's direction. The tragic look in her face was gone, replaced by a normal look for once. Harry tightened his grip. "Potter," she said, "you have much experience in dreams." He became uncomfortably aware of everyone staring at him. Was she going to make everyone attempt to get a vision of a future (or in Harry's case, a present) event? He didn't want to think about what he might see and felt more like running than sleeping. "How long can these last?"

He swallowed and replied, "About thirty seconds?"

"Yes. Take five points. And can you interact with a dream or vision?"

"No-"

"Five more points. Longbottom, when was the only instance when a dream or vision was wrong?"

Neville's bottom lip trembled as he answered. "The witch killed herself so she wouldn't be tortured to death."

"Another five points. Excellent." Her bulging eyes looked full of delight. "Keep these in mind when you are seeing. To assist in your visions, I have a potion which will put you to sleep for about a minute. You may think of anything your inner eye wishes to wander to and hopefully, during your sleep, you will see something." Any minute now she was going to give Harry a big dose of the pink, swirly potion she held in a bony hand.

She went on a long drawn out speech on how to ready one's mind for visions, babbling something about relaxing your shoulders and putting your thoughts at rest. Harry, as of now, felt like doing nothing of the sort.

At last, "Weasley," she called. Ron got up from his seat and sat in the cushy armchair from which Professor Trelawney rose. He took one sip of the potion and the effect was immediate. Ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head, which lolled to one side.

The class sat tense for a while and in that time, beads of sweat emerged on Ron's hairline. He was having a dream of something... and it didn't involve cuddling with puffskeins. His mouth opened silently when at last, he sprang up and was breathing heavily. He looked at Harry for a moment with an expression far more tragic than Professor Trelawney had given him, before turning it into a neutral stare up at Professor Trelawney.

"What is it, Weasley, what did you see?" she said eagerly.

"Nothing," said Ron but he was quite obviously lying. "It was just a nightmare."

He took his seat next to Harry and sat, silent, avoiding Harry's eyes.

Next up was Parvati and when she awoke about forty seconds later, she said her cat would die at a ripe old age. Neville, whose dream was quite hard for Professor Trelawney to convince him to tell, said his parents would come out of the hospital. Only Harry knew exactly why Neville's parents were in a hospital. They had been tortured to insanity and don't recognize Neville when he visits. Harry, true to his word to Dumbledore when he accidentally found out, would not tell anyone, letting Neville be the one to say it.

The entire class had a turn with the potion except Harry. When they left, true to her mysterious self, Professor Trelawney told Harry before he went down the ladder that his current state of events were very deceiving. He clutched the Order of Merlin plaque again as he descended the ladder.

"Why do you keep grabbing that thing?" said Hermione. She was at the bottom of the ladder, having gotten out slightly early from her class.

"I don't know," said Harry shrugging his shoulders. He let go of it. "Makes me feel better whenever I'm tense."

"Whatever works," said Ron who followed Harry down the ladder.

"We were doing visions and dreams today," said Harry as they walked off down the corridor. "I kept thinking she was going to make me have a go at it. Ron, what did you see?" he added sharply. He had a strong urge to grab the plaque again but resisted it.

"Nothing," Ron repeated. "It was just a nightmare."

Later that day during lunch, Neville had let out his parents' secret, that they were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse to the point of insanity. Word spread quickly through the Great Hall as everyone talked about it.

Ron's secret bugged Harry slightly through Care of Magical Creatures (Hagrid brought out his pet dragon, Norbert, again). While learning about how to tame and subdue a dragon, Harry's mind was focused on the look Ron gave him when he woke up. What did he see? Why didn't he want to tell anyone? And why did Professor Trelawney waste her breath telling him that his current state of events was deceiving him? It might help if she was just a little more explicit whenever she had something to tell him...

But she had been right once. In a blood curdling and downright unnerving trance she said, two years ago, that Lord Voldemort would rise again, that his servant would return to him. Sure enough, Pettigrew got loose and a year later, Voldemort got a body of his own.

But she wasn't in a trance. Every time she made a silly remark like the one she just did, it was never anything significant. Ignore it. That was best. Just ignore it. In fact, why not use Mr. Weasley's advice again?