Harry Potter and the Dreamer of Fears

Chapter 3 – Safety in Numbers

Harry followed Sirius up to where Headmaster Dumbledore’s office was located on one of the towers of Hogwarts.  Professor Lupin joined them halfway, and they stopped in front of an innocent looking gargoyle (though the gargoyle had a fierce looking face that kind of changed every few minutes or so).  He recognized it as the entrance to Dumbledore’s office and living quarters.

“Peppermint!” Lupin said to the statue and it rumbled open to reveal the long winding staircase that would take them into Dumbledore’s office.

            Climbing the winding staircase, Harry couldn’t help but wonder why did Dumbledore had him brought to Hogwarts before the school year started.  Was it something to do with Voldemort?  Like a protection of some sorts?  Or did they find anything else related to Voldemort that would be able to affect him in some way, possibly kill him, he shuddered slightly.  Oh he knew that Voldemort was able to kill him, he had barely escaped with his life just a few months ago, near fourth-year graduation.  But others were not so lucky; he knew that for a fact.  His parents had been killed, only when he was just a baby, Bertha Jorkins, an Auror, killed last year, and a schoolmate Cedric Diggory, killed by Peter Pettigrew on orders from Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was ruthless, efficient, and demanded order, and he was a cold-blooded murderer, hating Muggles, Mudbloods, and any wizard or witch opposing him and his rule.  Harry knew that first hand and for all the Galleons worth, he didn’t like it.  He knew that Voldemort had marked him as the top of the list of people to kill, something to do with his parents and him actually weakening the Dark Lord to a point where he was just a wandering spirit.

“Harry?” Lupin’s coaxing voice snapped him out of his musings.  They had arrived at Dumbledore’s office, filled with things that were out of the ordinary.  A soft chirping note brought his head to his right where Fawkes, the phoenix, was perched, preening one of its magnificent gold-red feathers, the soft candle lights around the room making his feathers seem a brilliant myriad of incandescence of colors.

The old, worn Sorting Hat sat on top of the shelf, looking a bit droopy than usual and Harry figured that the Hat was trying to compose another one of its songs for the new First-Years.  He glanced to another shelf to see the Pensieve sitting quietly along with a couple of gargoyle statues, its insides a swirling mass of purple cloud.

But beside the things in the room, there were also other people.  They spoke in soft murmurs to each other as he entered the room, obviously waiting for Dumbledore to appear, and Harry recognized a couple of them.  Snape was there, standing off to a corner, giving him, Lupin, and Snuffles the most distain look he could make.  Mr. Weasley was in a soft, but furious conversation with a person he didn’t recognize, his hand waving a bit as if emphasizing a point.

Harry wasn’t surprised that Cornelius Fudge, the head of the Ministry of Magic, was not here.  After the recent events during his last school year, he could think of a few excuses Fudge would want to avoid him and Dumbledore.  He kind of figured that Fudge would eventually see that Voldemort had really risen, but he knew that Dumbledore had hoped Fudge would join their cause at stopping the Dark Lord at all costs.  But where was Professor McGonagall?  He figured that Hagrid was doing something for Dumbledore, perhaps contacting the giants around the United Kingdom, but McGonagall usually stayed near Dumbledore to advise him or something of that nature.

He followed Lupin quietly to where Fawkes was perched, occasionally chirping out a melodious note while still preening its feathers.  “Hello Fawkes,” he greeted the phoenix softly who stopped preening and gave him a measured looking, waiting for him to speak.  “Thanks for the feather,” he continued and saw the phoenix tilt its head in understanding.  A sudden tail thumped at his ankle and he glanced down.  Sirius still stayed in his animal form, sitting quietly like any obedient dog should.  Harry knew that only a few people knew about Sirius as an unregistered Animagus, but they had swore never to tell and that meant the Sirius had an ace up his sleeve for times of emergency.

“I’m glad all of you made it,” Dumbledore’s weathered, kind voice broke through the soft conversation that was going on between Arthur Weasley and the man he was talking to.  He walked in, graceful and serene, not like an old man that he was.  “Except…” Dumbledore looked expectantly at the general location of the Pensieve and Harry glanced to where he was looking and blinked a bit in surprise.  Something within that vicinity gave a small sigh!

“Hiding is for later, Marion.  You won’t be able to scare Harry with something like that during your first day of class,” Dumbledore chuckled lightly and Harry watched with eyes wide as a gorgeous lady apparated out of thin air, her long dark purple wizard robe flowing around her.  She had raven back hair that was flowing in ringlets down her back, contrasting her milky white skin.  But her gaze was one of a hawk, a jarring icy blue.  Immediately one word clicked in his head at the sight of her.  Veela.

“You’re…” he whispered, bringing those icy blue eyes on him.

“Not a veela, I assure you Harry Potter,” her clear crystal voice was hard and accented with a soft Scottish drawl.  “I would never be one of those awful, ungrateful things.”

“I can vouch for that,” a deep voice chuckled behind him and he turned slightly to see the person that Mr. Weasley was talking to grinning, his black hair straight and even.  He also had pale skin, but his eyes were near black, or at least a very dark brown.

“Harry, this is Marius and Marion Sadow, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers.  They’re also registered Animagi and Marion is an Auror who will be protecting the school along with others to protect the school,” Dumbledore ended gravely and Harry noticed the seriousness of his look at him.

“Others?” he asked, his eyes narrowing fractionally.

Dumbledore silently handed him the latest Daily Prophet paper and Harry scanned it.

Back in Power and Angrier than Ever

By Rita Skeeter

During the debacle of the Triwizard Tournament between the three schools of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang there was a suddenly flurry of activity, as Harry Potter suddenly appeared out of nowhere, clutching the Triwizard Cup desperately in his hands, while holding onto his rival Cedric Diggory’s body, apparently dead from something that looks to be the work of the Unforgivable Curse, the Killing Curse.  He seemed to be shouting that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, seemingly crazed from all his headaches and painful heartaches that occurred during his school year.

But aside from Mr. Potter’s emotional and mental traumas, it is, I’m afraid, the truth.  I caught a chance glimpse of what happened in a nearby woody island off the coast of Southern England.  It seems the Dark Mark that You-Know-Who is so infamous for has been appearing rapidly in the last few weeks, nightly like stars, around that area.  Shadowy figures prowled to that area, and to my own safety, I had to extract myself from the place or else by now I wouldn’t be able to give you this report.  There had been also some sightings of Muggles being brutally murdered in the vicinity of London and surrounding suburbs lately.  Couldn’t this attribute to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named being back in power?  I say so.

He is back, sadly, back in power and angrier than ever.  We of the wizarding world must keep lightly on our brooms.

Harry frowned slightly, folding up the parchment of the Daily Prophet and handing it back to Dumbledore without a word.  He hated Rita Skeeter, hated her for what she was; a nosy, twisting, bigot of a git reporter for the Daily Prophet.  He had thought that she was docile again, sent back into the shadows of a meek reporter, but obviously her sightings of Voldemort was what brought her back to the front page, full blast.

“After what happened last year, and to add on what is going on now, we thought it best to keep you here before school started,” Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall whatever he was going to say, “Skeeter might be lying, but we do know that Muggles have been killed recently in vast numbers over the summer.  That’s why you heard of some of the plane crashes.  The Dark Mark had been found on one of the seats of the planes that crashed, though people thought it was a burn mark.”

“But…” Harry started.

“You could have been perfectly safe with the Dursleys, but not when you were traveling with them to go to Diagon Alley or the station.  We didn’t want to risk anything, Harry.  We mean to protect you because you are the one that survived Voldemort when you fought him, four times, you have survived.  We…can’t lose anyone that is able to stop the Dark Lord,” Dumbledore ended quietly then rounded the table and stood in front of the people that were gathered.

“I see,” Harry replied softly just as Dumbledore addressed all that were gathered in the room.  He felt Snuffles nudge his hand a bit and glanced down at him to see him wear a mournful, but concerned look.  He scratched the dog a bit behind the ears before tuning his ears back to what Dumbledore was saying.

“…must be able to keep an sharp eye on any student during this whole school year.  Arthur, I know that you’ll be able to help some of the people within the Ministry to see the danger Voldemort is, so you’re part is settled for now.  Sirius, I need you to take Harry to Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies before the year starts.  Any questions?”

Dumbledore looked around expectantly, and Harry saw that his eyes were hardened, hardly any twinkle within them, and he knew then.  He knew that Dumbledore perceived Voldemort as a real threat, able to rise up from what he was to challenge the wizarding world again.  Dumbledore was now the head of the force that stood against the Dark Lord.

There were no questions.  Harry turned to leave with the others when he Dumbledore stopped Sirius.  He turned slightly to see his godfather transform into his human form.

“Go on Harry, your things are in your dorm room already.  Remus and I will be along shortly so we can catch up on things,” Sirius waved him down gently and Harry shrugged, turning to leave.  As he was walking down the steps, one question bugged his mind.  What was the real reason Dumbledore and the others were trying so hard to protect him all these years from Voldemort?

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Sirius stood by the perch Fawkes was on, waiting patiently as Harry left the room.  He could sense that the boy was a bit doubtful, full of questions that he knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer from any of the adults.  Remus was waiting patiently for him by the door.  He noticed that his friend was getting a bit paler everyday and realized that the lunar moon was approaching.  Which meant Lupin was going to be out of commission for a couple of days near the opening of the new school year.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore started and he noted that the headmaster sounded very old and tired.  It had to be the Voldemort thing, it was pressuring him a lot from the inside even though he didn’t really show it on the outside.  “I know that you don’t need to hear this, especially from me, but I want you to keep a sharp eye on Harry.  I know that he tends to let his mind lead him to trouble, or at least trouble finds him, but this time… (he gave a deep sigh)

“This time…I don’t know.  Honestly, I was afraid for him during the last Triwizard Tournament obstacle…”

Sirius nodded.  He knew how Dumbledore felt about Harry, he even felt the same too.  Ever since James died, he felt that it was his mission to become Harry’s surrogate father of sorts and it seemed that Dumbledore became the grandfather that Harry never knew and had.

“We know, Dumbledore.  He’s our last hope against Voldemort and we can’t loose, not for the sake of a new era dawning,” Sirius replied then turned and left, Remus following behind him, quiet and thoughtful.

Harry was like a son to him, and by God he wasn’t going to let him end up like his best friend James did.  The familiar old pang of pain rose up from deep inside his heart.  He missed James and Lily, but among that pain, he also felt a deep anger at what he thought was a friend of his, but now a traitor.  Peter Pettigrew, the Potter’s Secret Keeper.

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