Not Just an Empty Emotion

Chapter 21-Letters, Quidditch, and A Figure

Harry entered the Hospital Wing for his daily check-up feeling totally drained. He had felt terrible when he had woken up that morning, at that feeling had only been worsened by Double Potions, Charms and a very complex Transfiguration lesson. As he walked across the room towards Madam Pomfrey's office he noticed the girl in the bed closest to the door, who had a large gash across her face, was looking at him with an ill-disguised look of concern.

Madam Pomfrey changed his dressings for him again and gave him his usual mixture of potions.

"The Headmaster wishes to speak to you, Potter. Wait here for him, please."
He didn't have to wait long. Ten minutes later Dumbledore, accompanied by Swan once more, arrived beaming at Harry.

"Hello, Harry," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. At least I'm better than I was, anyway."

"Good, good," Dumbledore mused. "Professor Jupiter tells me that the spell was performed successfully last night. Well done, Harry. This is one of the most important things the Order has done, thus far, in this War against Voldemort. And of course in helping you-attempting to relieve you of some of the pressure that your situation places upon you. How do you feel now that the spell has been performed?"

"Relived, I suppose. But I don't think it'll make the things any easier to experience. Right now I feel really weak and ill from it."

"That'll pass," Swan said. "You just need to relax tonight, and you should regain your energy soon enough."

Harry nodded again. There was silence for a few minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"I have written to your Aunt, outlining what happened to you. I felt it important that she was informed."

"OK..." Harry said slowly. Something was stirring in his memory-of course! The letter she had written to him at Christmas!

"Professor?" he said at once. "I have a question. My Aunt told me that I'd be home from school a week later than normal in the summer-why?"

Dumbledore deliberated for a while before giving an answer. Finally Swan said, "Come on Albus, he's got to know eventually. It won't scare him any less if you tell him in four months time, will it? Just tell him."

"Yes..." he said heavily. "I suppose he has. Very well. Harry, at the end of the summer term you will be taken to Kings Cross Station as usual by the Hogwarts Express. You will not be met by your family, you will-if you agree to our proposals which I am sure you will- be met by members of the Order, who will take you back to headquarters.

"Why?"

"There are two reasons. Firstly, Voldemort will expect you to return to your Aunt's house. We believe he would attempt to either hurt you on your way to the house, or else lay a trap, which you and your Muggle relatives would be unable to avoid. By delaying your return to number Four, Privet Drive, by approximately seven days, Voldemort should be thrown off your trail. By the time you return to the house any magic placed on or around it will have been removed, either by the passage of time of the Order. We are also hoping to place a guard from the Order at the house in case Voldemort or his Death Eaters are foolish enough to risk an attempt to harm you there, and also to ensure that all the Dursleys are in their correct state of mind."

"And the second reason?"

"We would like you to become more involved in the Order, Harry. You have done too much for us to not be allowed a more active role. This week will be a valuable experience for you." He did not elaborate. Harry was too relieved to finally know why his return to Privet Drive would be delayed, and was also very glad that the Order seemed to be taking him seriously at last, to ask for more details.

"Well," said Dumbledore cheerfully, "now that I am happy that you are healthy I shall depart, Harry. Good day." He turned to leave but Swan coughed pointedly. "Oh! Of course!" he cried. "I have been asked to deliver this to you, Harry." He handed him a letter sealed with green wax. Then he waved his wand, the watery screen around Harry vanished and he strode away, Swan at his side.

Harry looked down at the letter and slit it open.

Dear Harry,

By rights I should be giving you a reprimand for doing what you did. However, I would then have to punish myself for giving you the details, so I'm not going to. And besides, you've had more than enough of a punishment already.

You were incredibly brave, doing what you did. Following Snape into the midst of a raid was probably not your brightest idea, but even Snape himself has had trouble denying your bravery.

The information you found out is invaluable Harry-the only good thing to come out of that night. We can use it to great effect and the Order has already started to investigate it.

Swan has been giving me regular updates on your health and I'm glad you're getting better. I'm sorry I couldn't come to see you, but I've been rather busy recently. I assumed Ron would have been with you (as usual) when you followed Snape, but Swan tells me you're not talking. She won't say why. I'm sure you'll resolve it-it can't be that serious. Molly wrote him a letter about it but apparently he just wrote back telling her to mind her own business and that he didn't want to me associated with you.

But if Ron wasn't with you, who was? I know there was someone, because though Swan is a very good liar she forgets that I grew up with the Marauders-I can detect these things. She says you'll tell me "when you're ready." So...?

Jane Finnegan was a very close friend of Swan's, and she's devastated about what happened to her. Look after her for me, will you Harry? I'll have to finish here but I hope to see you soon Harry. And don't worry about Ron.

Remus.

Harry didn't know whether to smile or frown at the letter, so he just folded it up and put it inside his robes. He stood up and walked towards to door, thinking about dinner.

Suddenly he felt very light-headed, the world was lurching all around him and there were dark patches twisting in front of his eyes. He collapsed forwards towards the floor-but a pair of arms caught him gently and took him to the nearest bed.

He tried to see who it was, but felt far too nauseous to open his eyes.

"Just lie still for a minute, you'll be OK soon," said a soft female voice, He did as he was told and sure enough, he was soon able to see properly without pain. Standing over his bed and checking his temperature was a petite girl with long, dark brown hair whice hung around her shoulders. She had very pale skin, dark eyes and blood-red lips.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly. He found her voice very calming.

"Bit sick," he said thickly.

"You're very hot. Do you know why it happened?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said, attempting a smile. He tried to get up but the girl pushed him back down.

"No you don't. Not yet. Just rest for a bit. Madam Pom-"

"No! I don't need her, I'll be fine!"

"OK, but you're not moving yet," she said unperturbed. She conjured a goblet of ice-cold water. "Sip that. It'll help. I said sip! Don't gulp!"

"How do you know to do this?"

She smiled. "My mum's a healer. I've read her textbooks."

Harry managed to sit up a bit. "What's your name?"

"Jodie Hunter. I'm a sixth year. Slytherin. Don't worry; I'm not like them, I'm not a true Slytherin. That's why I've got this," she pointed at the cut n her face, "I'm only in Slytherin for the good qualities. I know your name, so I won't ask."

Harry laughed. Normally he'd resent recognition, but he couldn't help liking this girl.

"Well, thanks, Jodie. Am I allowed to go yet?"

She looked at him critically. "I suppose so. But be careful."

"I will." He stood up and tried to stop swaying.

"Bye then, Harry," she said and walked back to her bed as if nothing had happened.

He looked back at her with a slight frown on his face.

Was it her?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a light breeze in the cool air around the Quidditch Stadium. Winter was dying and so the sun shone weakly upon the Hogwarts grounds. Fourteen players stood in the centre of the pitch, eager to begin the match.

Harry was with them. He had almost had to beg a reluctant Madam Pomfrey to allow him to play, but in the end -after promising he would play as carefully as he could, not strain himself too much, and take a special strengthening Potion beforehand-she had relented. In the end, though, it was Dumbledore telling Madam Pomfrey that he would be at the match to oversee things that really swung it for Harry.

Harry heard Madam Hooch's whistle blow and he kicked off hard. He rose higher than any other player, so the only thing he could see of the match were scarlet and yellow blobs. It was a wonderful feeling; here, away from everything, he felt free. He didn't feel the weight of the Prophecy, or his argument with Ron, and forgot about Voldemort. Now the only thing that mattered was this Quidditch match...

He saw a red figure shoot away from the rest of the crowd and a smaller red dot go through a hoop, then came a magnified voice, "And Ginny Weasley has scored the first goal of the match with an excellent shot! Gryffindor lead ten-nil!" Harry grinned, he knew that Ginny was concentrating on Quidditch to take her mind off the girl, and it seemed to have paid off. He hadn't mentioned anything about Jodie Hunter, he wasn't even sure if it was the right person...

He flew a little lower, the better to see the Snitch. He dodged a Bludger and watched Ron make a great save, but he did not celebrate. His feud with Ron may have been forgotten when he was away from everyone, but nearer to the ground it was still ever-present.

He scoured the stadium for the Snitch, but saw no telltale glint of gold. Over the other side of the pitch was the Hufflepuff Seeker, having no more luck than Harry. Ginny had soon scored another three goals, and each time Harry circled the stadium at top speed to celebrate, trying to work off his urge to yell and cheer in a most undignified fashion.

He was feeling better than he had in a long time; his injuries were hardly painful at all, he felt free and away from the pressures of who he was, and was focused on the thing he enjoyed most.

Then he saw it. A tiny glint of gold at the opposite end of the stadium. Right next to the Gryffindor goal posts. And Ron. But he couldn't let that stand in his way; he darted through the air on his Firebolt, his robes whipping out behind him, the wind streaking through his hair. It was an exhilarating feeling as he urged the Broom on, closer to his target.

Mere feet from the Snitch, though, he passed Ron. Their eyes locked, and feelings of mixed hatred and sadness filled the boys at the same time. Harry tore his eyes away to concentrate on the Snitch, but then came instead to face Malfoy who was sitting in the stands- Harry experienced every emotion possible this time; confusion, love, hatred, sadness, anger, joy and terror...all from seeing two of the people he cared most about.

The Snitch looked about to change direction, Harry lunged at it just as it moved to the right almost slipping off his broom. He yelled in frustration as his hands clasped around nothing. But then-

Something brushed against his knuckles. He looked down and saw that he had hold of the tip of one of the Snitch's long but tiny silver wings. He cupped it in his other hand and then held it up in celebration. Cheers erupted across the stadium, and he saw Dumbledore getting to his feet and trying not to applaud too enthusiastically. He let go of all his dignity and whooped loudly as he landed on the ground at a run. Ginny literally landed on top of him, and gave him an enormous hug.

"YES!" She yelled. "YES! We've won Harry! One Hundred and Ninety-Nil! We are going to win the Quidditch Cup again, I know it!"

Harry tried to move her from his neck so he could breathe again, and then shook hands and hugged the rest of the team. There was only one person not there- Ron was walking back to the hanging rooms alone, just as he had done after his very first match. Harry frowned after him for a moment, but soon his view of Ron was lost as the crowd around the stands invaded the pitch.

*

Much later on Harry had finally disentangled himself from the crowds and Ginny and was able to leave the changing rooms. He was the last to leave, and sealed the entrance to the Gryffindor area as he did so. He walked across the grounds, deep in thought. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. It was an odd sense of calm under the hysteria he knew he should be feeling- he seemed to be finally accepting what the Prophecy had told him. And Malfoy... he had never in his life been happier than when he was with Malfoy, he had managed to push all his doubts aside, and now, finally, he felt secure. He felt stronger with Malfoy on his side.

He grinned to himself, wondering if it would be possible to meet up with Malfoy tonight. He just wanted to see him. A pleasant shiver ran up his spine at the thought.

Before he could think of a plan to find Malfoy something distracted him. A shadowy figure was walking up through the grounds and towards the castle, making no effort to disguise itself. It was a fairly tall, slender figure with long sweeping robes, which brushed the grass as it walked closer to the castle. It was lucky Harry was hidden near the greenhouses; he didn't like the look of the figure, even though it was making no effort to be discreet. He decided to follow it.

Silently he followed the figure's progress towards the steps to the front doors, making sure he kept to the shadows. The figure walked up the steps and towards the door. He didn't bother to knock; instead he just tapped the handle with his wand and strode through. Harry managed to run up the stairs and squeeze his body through the door before it closed. He saw the figure retreat up the marble staircase and then turn left. He followed in a silent run as the person went up a further two flights of stairs, down a long corridor and through a tapestry, where he turned left and came to a stop. Harry hid himself behind a coat of armour to see what on earth this person was doing in the staff-room corridor.

Seconds later the staff-room door opened and out walked Snape. He stopped dead when he saw the figure.

"Can I help you?" Snape said stiffly, and Harry could see he was trying to work out how the person had got in.

"Yes, Severus, I'm quite sure you can."

Harry's blood ran cold as he recognised the quiet, arrogant voice of Lucius Malfoy. Why was he here?

Malfoy went on. "I wish to see the Headmaster."

"I'm afraid the Headmaster is busy...can I be of service?"

"I wanted to talk to Dumbledore about Draco's lessons...he doesn't seem to be coming on quite as he should. I believe he may need to be paid special attention...can you help me with that?"

"I am head of Draco's house, Mr Malfoy as I am sure you know. I can ensure that he will receive the attention he needs in class. I will discuss the matter with him and then with his teachers. However if Draco was falling behind then I'm sure his teachers would have noticed."

"Quite," said Lucius lazily. "However I do feel that Draco is a special case. Do you not agree?"

"Of course," said Snape courteously, trying to prevent his lip from curling. "I must ask however why you did not simply send your concerns in an owl? Why are you here personally?"

"Because, my friend, I also need to speak to my son," Malfoy's voice as barely a whisper now. "I wish him to follow in my footsteps...you were present at the meetings, yes? You know what the Dark Lord and I ask of you?"

Snape inclined his head slightly. "I do. I shall fetch him from the Slytheirn Common room at once. Would you like to wait in a classroom so I can bring him to you?"

"Excellent idea."

Snape showed Malfoy into an empty room on the right and then swept down the corridor with a very ugly look on his face. Harry was tempted to follow, but, he reasoned, Draco Malfoy would be coming along here pretty soon anyway, and he didn't want to let Lucius out of his sight...

Five minutes later Snape was sweeping back down the corridor, with a white-faced Draco Malfoy trailing him. Snape didn't see Harry crouching behind the armour, but the Slytheirn boy did. His eyes widened in shock, but Harry pressed a finger to his lips to show him to be quiet. Malfoy looked back at Harry as Snape held open the door for him, but soon lost sight of him as Snape closed the door and headed down towards the staff-room again, where he ran into McGonagall. They had a hurried whispered conversation, and Harry was sure he heard the words, "Malfoy...Dumbledore..." somewhere in there. Seconds later they had both disappeared in the direction of Dumbledore's office.

Harry waited a few seconds to make sure the corridor was empty, darted out from behind the armour and pressed his ear to the classroom door.

"Draco do not interrupt me when I am talking," Lucius Malfoy's cold voice said, slightly muffled through the solid door. "I have told Snape that I am here to talk to him about your lessons. But I know, you know and he certainly knows why I am here."

"Tell me," his son said, trying to keep the terror out of his voice.

"You pretend you don't know...I am here to find out if you have used the globe I sent you at Christmas? Read the book?"

"Some of it," he lied.

"How much?"

"It's complicated...just a bit."

"Well, it's a good job I'm here then. You must read that book Draco. It is vitally important. You are going to become of age soon...I want to be proud of my son...we are a family of Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord will expect the same of you. I know you are ready; you will receive lessons similar to those I gave to you last year from Severus Snape. There is...a Plan. I cannot tell you what; only The Dark Lord knows what is going to happen. I know only brief details. Snape knows nothing, so he will give you all of his broad range of knowledge, which will include everything you need to know for when the Plan is put into action. You start lessons with Snape tomorrow. Do you understand?"

"Yes. But what will I have to do?"

"Everything. You will be a true Death Eater, as Lord Voldemort and I have come to expect of you. By the time it happens, you will be ready. You will prove yourself."

"I don't-"

"Shut up, Draco. It's going to happen."

Harry heard footsteps coming towards the door and dived behind the statue just in time; Lucius Malfoy opened the door and strode out. He made to walk up the corridor, but found his way blocked by Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape.

"Ahhh, Lucius! What a great pleasure. Professor McGonagall tells me you wish to speak to me about Draco's education?"

"McGonagall?" Malfoy spat. "I didn't speak to her."

"I did," Snape said. "Minerva saw you and wondered why you were here. Lucky, don't you think, that she happened to know that Professor Dumbledore was no longer busy. When I told her of your concerns for Draco she fetched the Headmaster at once."

Lucius nodded courteously, though Harry was sure he saw a disgruntled frown cross his face.

"Let us go to my office, and discuss this further, Lucius..." Dumbledore said, sweeping Malfoy, who was looking slightly pissed off, away down the corridor.

Snape and McGonagall hurried back towards the staff-room.

"What are you going to do?" McGonagall asked.

"I'll just have to do a botched job of teaching him. If I tell Draco I won't teach him, that'll get back to his father, and bang goes my cover..."

"Be careful, Severus..." she said as they disappeared inside the room.

Harry didn't wait any longer than necessary. He straightened up and walked into the classroom where the Malfoy's had been.

"Malfoy?" he called.

Malfoy was sitting on a desk with a chalk-white face and a look of sheer terror on his face. He looked towards Harry slowly. "He wants me to do it. He wants me to be a Death Eater. Snape's going to train me. I can't do it! I hate him!"

Harry walked to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to."

"I do. If I refuse to learn then Snape will tell my father and what do you think will happen then? I'll be handed to Voldemort!"

"You don't have to. It'll be hard to keep it from your father but you could do it. Snape's not a Death Eater, though he's about as friendly as one..."

"I know. You told me that. But how can that help me?"

"Haven't you worked it out Malfoy? Snape's actually in the Order. He's helping Dumbledore, and that's why he still pretends to be with Voldemort-he's undercover."

"How does that make it better, though, if he's got to teach me?"

"Look," said Harry patiently, "he doesn't want to teach it to you, you don't want it to be taught to you. But he thinks you want to be a Death Eater. If you tell him the truth you can both get your way and fool your father. It'll be complicated but it could work."

There was a glimmer of hope in Malfoy's eyes. "Really? Are you sure Snape would do that?"

Harry nodded. Malfoy could hardly dare to believe it-but it was his only chance.

"I'll have to trust you then."

"You will."

Malfoy sighed. "I hate my father so much.... why does he have to do this to me? To us!"

"Because Voldemort has got him," Harry said simply. "There's nothing you can do that change that. He'll always be the man he is now, Malfoy. The important thing is, you realised what was right."
Malfoy smiled at him and nodded. After a pause he said, "I haven't seen you for a while, Potter."

"I know. I've been busy..."

Malfoy wanted to tell Harry about Kierre and his threats, but knew he mustn't, it wasn't fair on him. Instead he just said, "We're going to have to be even more careful from now on you know...if we're serious."

"I know we are. But that doesn't mean we have to sacrifice our fun..." Harry smiled seductively and locked the door with a spell, and put an Imperturbable charm on it.

"Really?" Malfoy said as he moved closer and Harry placed his had around his waist.

"Honestly." His lips brushed against Malfoy's as he spoke Malfoy leaned in towards him and their lips met in a very slow gentle kiss. It was heaven.... they felt as though they were falling deeper and deeper into each other, and further and further in love.