Harry Potter and the Ancient Order

Chpt 11. Visions in the Mist

Ron was up very early Sunday morning, and woke Harry up in the middle of his recurring nightmare. Anxious to get out on the Quidditch pitch, Harry ignored the residual thoughts of his dreams and headed out before the rest of the team had woken up. He had rarely seen Ron this excited over anything and spent an enjoyable morning flying around the pitch with his best friend and new teammate. Angelina was insistent on hammering home the fundamentals on Ron, not matter how well he performed. Fred and George were unusually serious throughout practice, not wanting to do anything to harm Ron's training and eager to prove that Gryffindor's victory was no fluke.

After about the twentieth time of running Ron through the Double Eight Loop, a defensive move used by the keeper against penalty takers in which the keeper swerves around all three hoops at high speed to better his chances at blocking the quaffle, Angelina declared herself satisfied and called it a morning. Not a moment too soon, thought Harry, as he and Ron had skipped breakfast in their eagerness to get started. They joined Hermione in the Common Room, where the were surprised to find her arguing with Xander over house elves.

"It's slavery, that's all there is to it," Hermione stated stubbornly.

"Slavery indicates that they work against their will," Xander said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but they're all happy to be working here."

"How can you call it work when they don't get paid? How can you call it freedom when they have to do whatever they're told?" Hermione argued. Ron rolled his eyes and Harry thought it better to stand off to the side and not involve himself in the argument.

"They don't get paid because they don't want to be paid," said Xander. He held up his hand to halt Hermione, who looked furious. "Don't get me wrong, I agree that they've gotten a pretty raw deal. But it's too late to change things. They've had it pounded into their heads that their purpose in life is to serve wizards. Anything else seems foreign to them."

"It's thinking like that that keeps them in the position they're in," said Hermione stiffly.

Xander tried another approach. "Do you enjoy studying here?" he asked.

Hermione appeared confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," Xander pressed. "Do you enjoy studying here?"

"Of course," said Hermione as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (well, it was).

"And there's nothing in this world that could convince you to stop studying, is there?" asked Xander.

"No."

"And what would you do if someone, say... a pure-blood, told you that you couldn't, because he thought it was wrong for you to study magic?"

"It wouldn't stop me. I'm capable of making my own decisions and wouldn't let him decide for me," Hermione said.

"Okay," said Xander, "so what gives you the right to tell house elves that they can't serve wizards when it's what they want to do? They have free will also, you know."

Hermione stood in silence, unable to come up with an argument and looking a bit irritated at being outsmarted by her own logic. She had the look she always had when she was racking her brain when Xander continued.

"I really do think that your sentiments are admirable," he told her in a friendly tone. "But I do think that you're going about it wrong. If I may offer my advice?" he waited for Hermione to answer, and took her silent stare for a yes. "Help those who want to be helped. Those are the ones who need people like you."

"But how am I supposed to find them? Not many are willing to admit that they want freedom," said Hermione.

"It takes a lot of work, but they're out there," said Xander. "And I thought you had strong feelings about house elf rights. Since when are you afraid of a bit of work?" he teased her. Hermione didn't take well to the comment and stormed out of the Common Room.

"Game, set, and match," Harry said, grinning, and the Common Room began to applaud. Xander took a few mock bows. "What started that, anyway?"

"I asked a house elf for a cup of coffee with breakfast," Xander shrugged, "and she went off about taking advantage of servants and unfair treatment and whatnot. Hope she's happy, though, I still haven't had my coffee yet."

"That's gotta be the first time I've ever seen anyone out-debate Hermione Granger," Parvati Patil said as she clapped. She started to give Xander a clap on the rear, but stopped when she saw Alicia enter the Common Room.

Not wanting to hang around much longer and his stomach growling, they set off for the Great Hall for lunch, where they met Hermione. She was still brooding over her conversation with Xander when they joined her to eat.

"Want some coffee?" Ron teased her. Hermione gave Ron a look that could turn blood into ice. "Only picking," he said innocently.

Hermione was in no mood for teasing. "Why does he have to be like that?" she said to no one in particular.

"I'm sure he didn't say that to be mean to you," Harry said. "He just wanted to make his point. Same as you."

"He just seems to take pleasure in being right," Hermione continued, ignoring Harry. "Always anxious to show off his intelligence." Ron failed to hold back a laugh and Hermione slapped him hard on the shoulder.

"I never knew irony was so painful," Ron said, rubbing his shoulder. "You just hate it when you're wrong."

"Exactly what does that mean, Ronald?" she asked stiffly.

"Hey, you were the one going on about how much we can learn from him. Well, he taught you something, didn't he?" Ron retorted (it always irritated him to be called Ronald).

Harry had to look away so that his friends didn't see him laughing. Barely catching the food that fell out of his mouth, he covered his giggles by taking a long drink. As much as he disliked seeing them fight, he couldn't help but find amusement in it. Xander's comment about the two needing to release their hormones came back to him, and Harry spent the remainder of the day breaking into random fits of giggles at the thought.

Coupled with all the extra Quidditch practice, classes were becoming increasingly more difficult. Anyone who could not yet transfigure their desks into pigs and back again were given an extraordinary amount of homework study to complete. Professor McGonagall was insistent on her students being able to perform this task as it was a requirement for their O.W.L. She asked Xander to help those who were having difficulty, and Hermione even aided I tutoring, though most weren't eager for her help; she had a way of rambling on and getting off the topic of transfiguration. It took the two of them combined to assist Neville, who was having difficulty (his pig still had a wooden hide). By the end of the week, everyone could form a satisfactory pig, even if they couldn't change it back yet. Harry barely avoided the extra work once Xander corrected his wand movement. Ron needed no assistance, and had amazingly been one of the first to complete the task.

Krum gave them advance work to do. On their own time, they had to look up as many defensive deuling spells as possible before they would learn how to perform them in class. Again, Hermione had a very long list of spells, and had even begun to teach herself how do to some. She absolutely refused to be unprepared for her O.W.L.'s and always spent her free time with her nose in her study guide. Harry wasn't too worried about his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., as everyone agreed that he had more experience than almost any living wizard. Hermione became frustrated when Harry was able to perform several complex spells with little effort. He had, after all, been in too many life and death situations so far and knew what it took to concentrate properly on defense.

Divination was becoming nearly unbearable these days. Xander dropped the class in favor of Ancient Runes (which word had it that he knew more about than the professor) and Harry was finding it increasingly more difficult to stay awake. Professor Trelawny would fall into lengthy descriptions of each tarot card, spending an entire class explaining the history of the Jester for one thoroughly boring afternoon. Parvati and Lavender, being her most advanced students, were allowed to crystal gaze during these lessons, and always wore such smug looks after class that Harry thought their noses might just be swallowed up by their bottom lip.

Ron's performance in practice had the whole team feeling very confident by the time the weekend rolled around. Ernie Macmillan was rumored to be dreading the match, not keen on going up against Harry in his first game. He jokingly asked Harry to cut off his hands during Herbology, and Professor Sprout yelled loudly as he chased Harry around the greenhouse with a pair of shears. Neville was conspicuously absent during Herbology these days, and Professor Sprout said that he was working on advanced projects when questioned by Seamus.

Dean Thomas was not a person Harry wished to be round these days. He kept insisting that he was unfairly released from the Quidditch team no matter how many people told him that he stunk. He outright refused to speak with Angelina these days, and could often be heard making snide remarks about her behind her back. He was, to Harry's knowledge, refraining from attacking Ron publicly, which Harry was glad for. He really didn't harbor any ill feeling toward Dean, but would be quick to jump to the defense of his best friend if pressed to. Ron's sudden popularity probably had something to do with this as well, as everyone who had the chance to wished him well the morning of the Hufflepuff match.

Harry almost wished that the match would be called off since there was a terrible thunderstorm raging outside as he changed into his robes for the match. It was becoming almost a tradition for the Hufflepuff game to rain incessantly. Ron was showing no outward signs of nerves, but refused to talk to anyone before the match. Anytime Harry tried to ask if he was ready, Ron would just nod and not look up. Fred and George even ignored Ron, telling Harry that silence was his way of dealing with nerves.

When they walked out onto the pitch, Harry couldn't even see the Hufflepuff team standing at midfield until he was nearly halfway there. Great, he thought, how am I supposed to find the snitch in this. He saw Ron waving into the stands, and looked up to see Hermione sitting with Hagrid, broad smiles on both of their faces.

Lee Jordan's introduction was drowned out at intervals due to the thunder. "And for the first time... three brothers... same team! Coming off a close vic... Gryffindor looks to get back on tra..."

Harry chose to tune out the commentary as he kicked off the ground. He had to concentrate on the snitch and couldn't be bothered trying to fill in the gaps. A quick glance down told Harry that Ron hadn't followed Dean's fate, and he was happy to see Ron stationed at the Gryffindor goal before Hufflepuff even gained their first possession.

Ernie chose to tail Harry wherever he went, looking very sour indeed. Going up against Harry Potter in a near hurricane was not the ideal conditions for your first match. Harry figured that since Ernie wasn't going to look for the snitch himself, he would keep an eye on Ron for a few minutes.

"Spectacular save by Weasley! How on earth did he see... in this weather!" Lee's voice echoed in the pitch. After the play moved to the other end of the pitch, Harry flew down to congratulate Ron when he saw Ernie rocket off to the corner. Panicking, Harry fired after him, only to see a wide grin on Ernie's face as Harry flew past him.

"Real cute," Harry snapped. He mentally berated himself for letting Ernie trick him into thinking he had seen the snitch. He silently vowed to let Ron handle himself and set about the task of looking for the snitch himself, not allowing Ernie out of his line of sight. It was time to prove Malfoy wrong and show everyone exactly why he had such a sparkling record of snitch captures.

Ernie was now bumping Harry at every opportunity, only adding to his ire. Finally, when he was sure that Madam Hooch wasn't watching, he gave Ernie a hard shove, sending him rolling off towards the stands. He knew he shouldn't have done it, but Malfoy's words were ringing in his ears and he refused to let them ring true. Ernie recovered easily, but had quit bumping Harry and merely tailed him. Finding the snitch would be much easier if he could only see through his constantly fogging glasses, and he kept wiping at them furiously.

A nasty little voice in his head kept reminding him how this match was mirroring his last match against Hufflepuff, where Cedric Diggory beat him. Cedric... Cedric... why did you have to follow me at the end of the maze? he thought. Why did you have to die? He lost track of the match as visions of Cedric's torso escaping from the tip of Voldemort's wand kept flashing across his eyes. First his head, looking very downcast, then his torso, and finally the rest of his body popped out, sickening Harry as he thought that it looked like a seventeen year old boy was birthed from a wand. Cedric stared at Harry with an accusing look in his eyes. He stared back, trying to apologize but finding he had no voice to speak with.

"Harry," said the ghost Cedric, when a golden beam of light flew across the picture, smearing it away like a hand waving through smoke.

Harry's eyes involuntarily followed the golden beam of light, zigzagging back and forth. It looked like a comet, with a ball of flame at the front and a tail of golden mist behind it. Why does the comet have wings? thought Harry. Wait, comets don't zigzag back and forth. His vision now focusing, his heart leapt as he realized it was the snitch. All thoughts of Cedric vanished instantly, and Harry was filled with and excited anxiety instantly.

Without even thinking about it, Harry flew his Firebolt in the exact path that the snitch cut into the rain. Vaguely aware that his hair was matted down over his glasses, Harry reached out after the slippery ball of gold. The rain had taken its toll on his broom, and as he reached out, his left hand slipped off his handle. Feeling a small sting in his right hand, Harry's legs locked instinctively around his broom, breaking his fall. It wasn't until he tried to climb back on his broomstick that he realized the snitch was clasped firmly in his right hand.

"Amazing capture! Potter hangs on for the win, with possibly his most amazing catch yet, and Gryffindor wins, 180-..." The thunder cut out the rest of Lee's excited ramble. Harry thought it best to get his feet on the ground before the wind blew him away and joined his team under the Gryffindor goal. They all surrounded Ron, Fred and George nearly beating him down.

"Amazing!" Angelina crowed. "First shutout at Hogwarts in fifty years!"

"Shutout?" Harry looked around quizzically.

"Well, you didn't give him much of a chance, catching the snitch so early," Fred told him.

"Early? We had to be playing for at least an hour," Harry said in confusion.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at Harry. He wasn't sure he liked the way they were looking at him, either. "No, it was only about fifteen minutes. We only had enough time to score three goals," Katie said slowly, not smiling.

Harry thought for a moment on this, wondering why he was so tired and worn. "It's probably just the weather," said Harry, waving off the comment. "It just felt like I was searching forever."

The team seemed convinced and returned to their celebration, the Gryffindor stands having emptied onto the field despite the torrential rainfall. Ron, however, was looking at Harry with concern when Hermione ran up.

"You were amazing, you really were!" she shrieked, hugging Ron. "Both of you!" she added, hastily throwing her other arm around Harry. "The wind blew Ernie off course at the last minute. Excellent flying," she said to Harry.

"Let's go get dry," said Harry, forcing a smile. Ron, however, wasn't smiling and was still looking at Harry. Later, he told Ron wordlessly, and Ron appeared to understand as he broke into a smile and picked Hermione up in a twirl. Harry took his time returning to Gryffindor Tower, wondering why even Quidditch couldn't fully take his mind off Cedric.

"In the middle of a match? That's serious, Harry," Hermione said with concern once Harry told her and Ron what happened. It was difficult for Harry to talk about it, but in the end he figured that if he couldn't talk to his best friends, who could he talk to?

"I don't know what brought it on for sure," Harry said, looking steadily at the floor. "My mind just kept telling me how much today resembled the last match against Hufflepuff, then it shifted to Cedric, then..." he trailed off into silence.

"Part of your mind still feels guilty," said Ron, whom Harry was very grateful towards for taking the time to talk to him with the whole of Gryffindor anxious to congratulate him on a stellar performance.

"Ron's right," Hermione agreed. "Until that part of your mind resolves itself, you're going to have troubles. Harry," she said seriously, "I think you should really talk to someone about this."

"Who?" said Harry testily. "Who do you know ever had a similar situation? Who can possibly understand?"

Ron and Hermione sat there in concerned silence, taken aback and unable to answer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell," Harry apologized. "I just don't know exactly what to do."

"A solution will come up," Hermione told him softly, "when you least expect it to."

Harry smiled weakly in an attempt to convince his friends that he was O.K., but he knew they knew better. Taking the hint that he didn't wish to talk about it anymore, they returned to Gryffindor Tower, where Fred and George had organized a victory party in Ron's honor. Harry did his best to be cheerful for Ron's sake, knowing what this must mean to him, his own brothers showing how proud they were of him. All told, Ron had a good enough time for the both of them.