Not Myself

Suppose I said

I am on my best behavior

And there are times

I lose my worried mind?

Would you want me when

I’m not myself?

Wait it out while I am somebody else?

Suppose I said

Colors change for no good reason

And words will go

From poetry to prose

Would you want me when

I’m not myself?

Wait it out while I am somebody else?

And I, in time, will come around

I always do for you

Suppose I said

You’re my saving grace

- John Mayer “Not Myself”

Not Myself by Saerry Snape

Chapter 11 – Letters and Conversation With a Raven

 “Potter!”

Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Marcus Flint walking very quickly towards him.  It was a week after Christmas holidays and apparently close to the next Quidditch match.

“Yeh?”

“We’ve got to play Hufflepuff in a week.  Normally they’re a pushover but with that new Seeker of theirs….  They say he’s good but I wouldn’t know.  I expect you to be at every practice, understand?”

Harry nodded and said, “O’ course.”

“Good,” grunted Flint and walked off.  As soon as he was gone Niamh said, “The nerve!”

“Wha’?”

“Ordering you around like he’s an army general or something!”

“Ni, e’s Quidditch Captain.  It’s ‘is job ter order me around.”

Niamh gave him a disgruntled look then looked up at the ceiling.

“Mail’s here.”

“Mmm.  An’ there’s Jardin.”

The raven winged in with the owls, earning a few surprised shouts and pointed fingers.  He flew down and landed on Harry’s shoulder, dropping a letter into his plate.  Harry stroked his feathers and picked it up, shaking a bit of egg off of it.

Who’s it from?

< Ron. >

Harry opened the letter and read it, poking Niamh and showing it to her once he was done.

Harry,

We’ve got trouble.  Hermione dragged me down to Hagrid’s hut yesterday.  He’s got a dragon!  A Norwegian Ridgeback, which are real vicious.  It bit me too.  At least it was my left hand not my right.

Niamh whispered, “How does that constitute as trouble?  He’ll get out of class?”

Harry replied, “Keep readin’.”

Trouble is, Malfoy saw Norbert (that’s what Hagrid named that vicious little thing).  Hermione convinced Hagrid to get rid of Norbert before he gets in trouble.

“Why would he get in trouble?”

“Dragon breedin’s illegal.”

“Oh!”

Anyway, she had me write my brother Charlie (you didn’t meet him at the Burrow) and ask if he could take Norbert.  Some friends of his are coming Wednesday night to the tallest tower.

“What exactly does this have to do with us?”

“Keep readin’.”

Hermione decided to wrangle you two into it by saying the three of you could take Norbert up to the tower to meet Charlie’s friends.  I’d be there too, but I’m stuck in the Hospital Wing.  Hand’s swollen to twice its size and is green.  Is that bad?

- Ron

Niamh frowned at the letter and said, “Poor Ron.”

“Poor Ron?  Poor us!  ‘Agrid’s got a dragon that we ‘ave ter get rid of an’ Malfoy knows about i’.  We are much more poor tha’ Ron in this situation, Ni.”

Niamh nodded and Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table.  Hermione caught his eye and arched her eyebrows.  Harry nodded slightly then turned away, stuffing the letter in his pocket.  Jardin had hopped down to the table and was eating his eggs.

Jardin!

The raven batted a pale eye at him and said, < I’m hungry. >

Oh, alright.  Eat my food.  I’m too nervous to eat anyway.

< What is going on? >

Nothing really.  Hermione just wrangled me and Niamh into a plot to get rid of an illegal dragon by taking it up to the tallest tower on Wednesday night to give to some friends of Ron’s brother Charlie.

< Sounds dangerous. >

You have no idea.

< You can do it.  You have an invisibility cloak after all. >

Harry blinked at the raven.

Good point.

< All of my points are good. >

Harry chuckled softly at his raven, which seemed to smirk at him.

“Hey, Potter!  You know raven’s aren’t allowed, don’t you?”

Harry and Niamh both turned to glare down at the table at Draco and were about to say something when a smooth voice came from behind them.

“The circumstances are special, Mr. Malfoy.  The Headmaster informed the teacher’s of the situation himself.  Mr. Potter’s raven has as much right to be here as the eagle owl that is about to relieve itself on your shoulder.”

Draco turned his head to his owl and shrieked, “ACK!!!!”

Snape and Harry smirked at the exact same time, earning a wide-eyed stare from Niamh.  Then Snape turned to Harry and said, “An interesting gift, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and stroked Jardin’s back as the raven pecked at his toast.  He smiled and said, “Yeh.  If on’y I knew who sent ‘im.  I’d like ter than ‘em.  E’s not Hedwig but Jardin’s wonderful in ‘is own way.”

Snape nodded.

“I am certain he is, Mr. Potter.  Good day.”

As he walked off Niamh hissed, “My God…”

Harry looked at her in confusion and said, “Wha’?”

“You…you….”

“Spit it ou’, Ni.”

Niamh – eyes wide as saucers – leaned forward and whispered, “You and Professor Snape looked just alike when you smirked!”

“WHA’!!”  Harry smiled sheepishly at those around them then hissed, “Wha’ are ye implying, Ni?  Tha’ we’re related or somethin’?”

“I never said that!  I just said you looked alike when you smirked!”

“Yeh, I heard ye.”

“And then there’s the hair…”

Harry scowled at her.  “Wha’ about me hair?”

Niamh held up her hands in defense and replied, “I never said there was anything wrong with it!  Its just that…”

“Jus’ that what?”

“Well, erm, y’know over Christmas hols when the water didn’t work in the dungeons?”

“Yeh.  Me hair got greasy, li’ it did on the streets.  Wha’s yer point?”

“That’s just it, Harry!  Snape’s hair is greasy and yours got greasy.  Surely that means something!”

“Yeh.  When neither o’ us takes a bath, our hair ge’s greasy.”

“Harry!”

“I was’n implyin’ that ‘e doan take a bath!”

“Well, it sure sounded like it!”

Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

“C’n we talk abou’ this later?”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“T’anks.”

Harry turned back to Jardin, who was pecking at the last remnants of his toast.

Jar.

< Harry? >

Do you think Snape and I look alike?

The raven tilted his head at Harry then looked up at Snape sitting at the end of the staff table talking to Quirrell.

< A little.  You both have long, dark hair and are pale and have a few similar expressions but beyond that nothing.  Why? >

Ni said something about it.  Surely you heard her.

< Sorry, paying attention to the toast. >

You sound like Ron.

Jardin blinked a pale gold eye at him.  < Is that a good thing or a bad thing? >

Harry shrugged and replied, Take it as you will.  He looked around then turned back to the raven.  You probably should head back up to the Owlery now.

< I could just go down to the dungeons. >

Harry shivered at the thought, remembering leaving Hedwig down there before the Quidditch match…

No.  I don’t want you down there without me with you.  That’s how…how Hedwig got killed.

Jardin appeared solemn and bobbed his head.

< I see.  Then I shall come visit you after classes. >

Dinner.

< Dinner it is.  By the by, when are you going to tell your friends I can talk? >

Harry frowned and replied, I wasn’t actually considering it…

< I would consider telling them.  While you have been talking to me, Niamh has been calling you. >

Damn, spat Harry then looked at Niamh.

“Harry!”

“I’m ‘ere, I’m ‘ere.  No need ter shout.  Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Class, you daft goose.  C’mon!  We’ve got Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs.”

“I know, Ni.  And I go’s somethin’ ter tell ye on the way.”

“Really?  Let’s go then.”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’.”

Harry gathered his bag and looked at Jardin, who was rustling his feathers irritably on the table.  He looked and saw Quirrell eyeing the raven coldly.

Jar?

< Yes, Harry? >

Why is Quirrell looking at you like that?

There was a pause then the raven replied.

< I don’t know.  But I get a bad feeling off of him. >

“Tha’ makes two o’ us,” muttered Harry under his breath.  He thought at Jardin, Well, be careful.  I don’t want to lose you like I lost Hedwig.

< No problem there, Harry.  I have more gifts than just being able to talk. >

Glad to hear that.  Oh, and I’m going to tell Niamh that you can talk on our way to Transfiguration.

< Will she believe you? >

If she doesn’t, you can have a little chat with her tonight, can’t you?

Harry swore the raven gave a mental smirk.

< An excellent point, my dear dominus.  I think I shall leave before that creature burns a hole in my head by simply glaring at me.  Good day. >

Harry watched as Jardin took flight and flew over his and Niamh’s heads as they exited the Hall.  As they walked, he wondered what the word ‘dominus’ meant.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“You mean to tell me that the raven you got for Christmas can talk?”

“Keep yer voice down!  And, yeh, ‘e can.”

“Harry, I know this is the wizarding world, but ravens don’t talk.”

“’E said e’s the on’y one who can.  C’mon, Ni, believe me.”

Niamh frowned.

“I’ll believe you if I hear it from him.”

Harry beamed.

“Alrigh’.  E’s goin’ ter be comin’ down ter the dungeons tonigh’ af’er dinner.  Ye c’n talk to ‘im then.”

“Well, that’s settled.”

“Miss O’Feir, Mr. Potter, would you mind horribly getting back to class?”

Harry and Niamh both looked sheepishly up at McGonagall, who was frowning at them.

“Sorry, professor.”

“Sorry, professor.”

“Hmm,” said McGonagall and returned to teaching.  Harry cast a sidelong glance at Draco, who appeared to be looking at him rather strangely.

Had he heard what Harry and Niamh were talking about?

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So, erm, how do I do this?”

Harry sighed and explained how to talk to Jardin again.

“Ye jus’ think what ye wan’ ter say and direct i‘ at ‘im.  E’ replies in the same way.”

Niamh took a deep breath and said, “Okay.  Here goes.”

Jardin?

< Yes? >

Bloody ‘ell!

Both Jardin and Niamh looked at Harry, who had tumbled out of his chair.

“Harry, what…?”

< What happened? >

Harry sat up and said in a hushed tone, “I heard ye.  I heard ye talkin’ to ‘im, Ni.”

Niamh blinked while Jardin looked rather smug.

< Well, that’s supposed to happen. >

It is?

It is?

< Yes. >

Harry arched an eyebrow.  How’s that?

< Well, according to what I know, there used to be many more of my kind.  In different forms. >

Your kind? said Niamh.

Jardin bobbed his head in a nod.

< Talking birds. >

How do you know?

< I am actually several hundred years old.  We’re immortal to a point, you know. >

Harry and Niamh shared a glance then Harry asked, What’s the point?

< The Killing Curse, > replied Jardin.  < We can block any other form of magic.  Except for that.  Grindelwald and his followers killed my kind.  I am the last as far as I know. >

Niamh frowned and said, Oh, Jardin…

< Don’t pity me, m’lady. >

Niamh looked a bit taken aback but Harry shook his head at her.

So, how come I can hear Niamh when she’s talking to you?

< Ah.  Each of my kind forms a special bond with a certain wizard.  We stay with them for all our lives after we’ve found them.  Until they die.  Then we travel on, looking for the next person.  I had been looking for you, Harry, since I hatched four hundred years ago. >

Harry blinked.  What?  That’s…that’s impossible.

Jardin shook his head.

< Not necessarily.  Dumbledore’s phoenix Fawkes is one of my kind; much, much older than myself.  According to him, he was once Godric Gryffindor’s and had been waiting ever since Gryffindor died for Dumbledore. >

So, you guys already know who to go to next?

< Of course. >

And about the hearing thing?

< Ah.  We are bound, you and I.  You can hear the thoughts of anyone speaking to me.  If you were a telepath, I could do the same. >

But I’m not.

< Certainly not.  My kind do not bond to telepath’s for that specific reason.  We have a sort of – inner alarm – to avoid that from happening. >

What if your next bond IS a telepath?

Jardin shifted from talon to talon before replying.

< We slowly go mad from the influx of thoughts. >

Niamh gasped.

Oh my God…  That’s…that’s horrible!

Ni, calm down.

Oh!  Oh!  I can hear you, Harry!

< That is because you are communicating through me.  You’ve been hearing him the entire time. >

Oh my…

Maybe we should call it a night?

< A good idea. >

Oh, Jar, hold on a minute.  I want you to take a letter to Ron and another to Hermione.

Jardin nodded and Harry pulled the two letters from his pocket, tying one to each of the raven’s legs.  The raven looked at both of them then gave a short nod.

< Good night. >

Night, Jar.

Good night, Jardin.

A moment later he was gone and Niamh and Harry were left to watch each other.

“So, we can talk to each other while he’s around.”

“Yeh.  I ‘spose so.”

“Y’know, your voice is different when you…ah, what would you call it?”

“Thinking it?”

“Maybe.  Anyway, it sounds…y’know…normal.”

“Normal?  Ye mean li’ everyone else’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Tha’s na normal fer me, Ni.  Good night.”

“Harry…”

“Good nigh’, Ni.”

As Harry stalked off into the boy’s dorm, Niamh whispered, “Good night, Harry.”

Dominus – Lord, Master

Chapter 12 – Dragon Bait

 “Stop moving!”

“I’m na!”

“Both of you hush!  If we’re heard we’re dead!”

Niamh, Hermione, and Harry pushed the wooden crate that held Norbert along a dark corridor under the invisibility cloak.  Hermione had performed a Hovering Charm on it so they wouldn’t have to lug it up and down stairs.

“Get off my foot!”

“I’m na on yer foo’, Ni!”

“Then…aw, bloody hell, it’s Mrs. Norris!!”

The three students looked down in horror at the cat, who was standing on Niamh’s invisible foot and looking up at them.  Harry hissed, “Get on, Norri.  Doan tell Filch we were ‘ere, k, m’girl?”

The cat looked up at him then meowed.  Harry smiled and whispered, “T’anks, Norri.”

Mrs. Norris meowed again and they moved on, the cat padding softly after them.  As they went Niamh whispered, “How did you do that?”

“Oh, quite taken ter me, tha’ cat is.  We understan’ each other.  Doan we, Norri?”

The cat meowed once more then bounded off into the shadows.

“I hope she’s not going to get Filch,” muttered Niamh.

“Na.  She’s ‘ad plenty o’ chance to do tha’ ter me when I’ve been ou’ at nigh’.  She woan get ‘im.”

“I hope your right, Harry.  And when have you been out at night?”

“Heh.  ‘Ere an’ there.”

“We’re almost there!”

The three of them instantly fell silent as Hermione hissed those words.  They climbed to the top of the tower and shed the invisibility cloak.  A few minutes later they turned Norbert over to Charlie’s friends and, with wide grins, began to descend from the tower.  At the last moment Niamh hissed, “The cloak!”

Looking at each other in horror, they turned to sprint back up the stairs when lamplight fell on them.  Turning, they all quavered at the sight of Argus Filch.

Niamh hissed, “Harry, you arse.  That cat gave us away!”

Mrs. Norris suddenly appeared behind Filch and gave Harry a sorrowful look and a soft meow.  Harry nodded vaguely at her and hissed back at Niamh, “Filch goes abou’ the school on ‘is own.  Norri did’n betray us.”

Niamh spat, “Well, we’re still in trouble.”

“Good point, tha’.”

Filch frowned at them and said, “Sneaking out of your dormitories at night, eh?  Well, we’ll be seeing Professor McGonagall and Snape about this, won’t we?  Come along.”

Harry and Niamh exchanged a horrified glance then turned to Hermione, who looked equally horrified.

“Why’d you have to drag us into this, Mione?”

Hermione sighed and said, “I couldn’t handle Norbert on my own and Ron had been bitten.  There was no one else I knew who’d help.”

Harry sighed and said, “She’s got a poin’, Ni.  Leave off ‘er.  We’re gonna ‘ave detention anyway.”

“Yeah.  For something we got dragged into!”

Harry rolled his eyes and said, “Drop ‘i, Ni.”

“Alright, alright.  Sorry, Mione.”

“It’s okay.  I’m mad at myself right now.  I can’t believe we forgot the cloak!”

“SHHH!” hissed both Niamh and Harry, clamping their hands over her mouth.

Hermione mumbled something that sounded like “What?” behind their hands and the two rolled their eyes.

It was going to be a long night.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Out after curfew is one thing, but telling Mr. Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon?  I did not expect that from you, Miss Granger.”  McGonagall’s eyes shifted to Harry and Niamh, both of whom bristled visibly.  Or Niamh did.  The only reaction Harry showed was a light in his eyes that came and went quickly.  Niamh, however, glared at the Transfiguration teach with barely disguised fury.

“Ni, calm down.”

“Harry, she’s implying that we told Malfoy about the – the you-know-what!”

“Ye think I doan know that?  I’m more worried abou’ Snape!”

McGonagall frowned at them and said, “And you two will be serving detention with Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco, who has already been in the room with McGonagall, cried, “What!”

Harry blandly said, “Detention, Malfoy.  Surely ye know wha’ that is?  Or are ye actually that daft?”

Draco glared at Harry and looked ready to launch himself at the other boy’s throat but stopped quite suddenly and backed off – from both the cold look Harry had given him and McGonagall’s glare.

“And you, Mr. Potter.  Fifty points from Slytherin!”

Harry looked at her and simply nodded.  He’d get the points back in the next Quidditch match.  So what if he got brown-nosed by the other Slytherin’s?  Most of them only paid attention to him because he was The Harry Potter or because he was the Seeker who had won them the match against Gryffindor.  He’d been kicked and beaten down on the streets.  He could take whatever the Slytherins could dish out and more.

“As for you Miss O’Feir and Mr. Malfoy, fifty points as well.  Same for you, Miss Granger.  Now back to your dormitories!  I will send notice when your detention shall be.”

The four of them trailed out under McGonagall’s stern gaze, not saying anything until they were out of her office.

Draco sneered at them and said, “Hanging around with Mudblood’s.  How low can you get, Potter?”

Harry bristled inwardly and sneered, “Ye’d take kindly ter remember that these two Mudblood’s are the smartest students in the year and c’n hex yer sorry arse before you knew what’d ‘appened.”

The two boys scowled at each other, eyeing each other with contempt.  Niamh and Hermione smartly stayed out of the conflict.

After a few moments Draco turned away from their locked gazes and Harry smirked.  As the blond turned and walked off he said, “See you in the dorm, Potter.  Tell your raven ‘Hello’ for me.”

Harry bristled visibly this time and clenched his fists until blood ran.  As soon as Draco was gone he spat bitterly on the ground and snarled in a soft voice, “Ye touch a feather on Jardin, Malfoy, an’ it’ll be the last thing ye touch fer a long while.”

Behind him Hermione and Niamh exchanged glances then moved forward, each placing a hand on Harry’s shoulders.  He tensed at the touch then relaxed, looking at each of them in turn.  Niamh gently pried open his fist to look at his hand, her eyes softening when she saw the cuts his fingernails had made in his palm.  She turned her face up to him and said, “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that, Harry.  He does it deliberately.”

Harry scowled at her and snapped, “Ye think I doan know that?  Bloody ‘ell, Ni, tha’s the reason I want ter break his sodding head against the stones!”  He looked down at his bloodied palm and added, “I’ve never been so…so…angry in me life.”

Niamh frowned.

“Not even to Argil?”

Hermione blinked in confusion whilst Harry shook his head, closing his eyes.  He softly said, “Na.  Not even Argil.  I did’n like ‘im but…”  His eyes opened and he glared off in the direction where Draco had vanished.

“But I never hated ‘im.”

Hermione gasped, “Hate is a strong word, Harry.”

“There’s no other word fer it, Hermione.  I hate ‘im.  I hate Draco Malfoy.”

Niamh and Hermione exchanged another glance then Harry said, “We’d better ge’ back, Ni.  ‘Fore Filch catches us again.”

Niamh nodded and the three of them said goodnight, heading they’re separate ways.  Harry left Niamh to return to Arx Serpens on her own as he went to get the invisibility cloak.  When he returned, he went immediately into the boy’s dormitory, only pausing long enough to curl his lip in a sneer at Draco’s sleeping form.  Niamh watched him from her chair in the common room as he stood there, watching with other boy with the utmost contempt.  A moment later the door closed and he was gone.  Niamh sighed and curled up in the large, overstuffed chair, running her fingers over the soft, emerald green fabric.  Calling out to Jardin, she silently asked a question.

Could Harry go Dark?

No answer tempted her question.  She supposed the raven was too far away, high up in the Owlery, or flying out in the night.  Unlike Harry, she was not bound to the bird and could only speak to him when he was near.

Tucking her hands under her cheek, Niamh watched the fire until the dancing flames sang her to sleep with their soft crackling.