Harry Potter and the Lost Prophecy

Chapter 9

Meditations

Harry sat on a desk in the Charms classroom, swinging his legs nervously. It was his first lesson with Cassandra, and he couldn't ignore his apprehensive feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

After a few minutes of waiting, boredom struck and he pulled his grandmother's
diary out of his pocket. He'd taken to carrying it around with him, not only as reading material, but also as a sort of security blanket. When he had it in his hands he felt the same connection he experienced each time he looked at the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. He felt the same way when he was wearing his invisibility cloak, or touching the tiny pendant that had been his mother's. It was almost as if, for once, he belonged to someone, to a family. For once, Harry felt as if he had roots.

Settling himself more comfortably on the desk, he opened the diary and began to read.

November 21^st -

Dear Diary - I'm amazed at how wrong I was about Professor Riddle. I finally worked up enough courage to ask him if he would meet with me after class for some extra tuition and he wasn't even nasty about it. In fact, he's been very patient with me - he didn't even seem to mind when I accidentally spilt armadillo bile all down the front of his new robes. We have sessions twice a week now, and he's been very kind about explaining things to me. All of the other students are too scared to ask him for help, but he's quite alright - once you get to know him.

In fact, I think he's kind of cute.)

The next few pages were blank, and Harry hurriedly found the next entry.

December 5^th -

Dear Diary -

Today Thomas (Professor Riddle) and I reached for the jar of boomslang skin at the exact same time, and our hands actually brushed! He gave me the most curious look - it made my skin tingle all over.

I wish...I wish he'd look at me the same way I look at him. I wish he'd see me as an adult, and not just a silly little girl from his class.)

Harry quickly flipped forward a few more pages, a strange feeling fluttering in his stomach.

December 18^th

I met with Tom again last night. It was amazing. The dungeon was filled with the smell of roses from the Cheering charm we were working on. The moonlight was shining through the high windows, illuminating Tom's eyes so they seemed to glow with an otherworldly power when he looked at me.

I couldn't speak, I just stood, gazing at him. And then I don't know how it happened, but I was suddenly in his arms, and he was kissing me, holding me tightly to him as his lips pressed against my own.

Oh, diary! It was the most breath-taking experience of my life. He was so gentle with me, and so protective. He said I must never tell anyone about us, or they'll take him away. And that would be more terrible than words could possibly express. My heart would break into a thousand pieces.

We leave for Christmas tomorrow. I don't know how I'll survive three weeks away from him...

"Good evening, Harry."

Harry jumped in surprise, turning towards the door as he slipped the diary into his pocket. His mind was still reeling from the words he'd just read. His grandmother had been in love with Tom Riddle?

"Am I interrupting?" Cassandra asked as she swept into the room, magenta robes swirling around her feet as she walked. She settled herself behind Flitwick's desk, and looked at Harry enquiringly.

Harry shook his head, trying to put the diary from his mind yet again. Cassandra motioned for him to sit, and Harry moved so that he was sitting as close to the door as was possible, without appearing to be rude. He still didn't trust her completely. He couldn't. Harry wondered briefly how he could orchestrate a meeting between his new teacher and Hermione's cat Crookshanks, who had proven to be a good judge of character in the past.

"Harry, I want you to know that I'm here for reasons outside of teaching you to learn to use your visions to your advantage," Cassandra broke through his thoughts, and Harry turned his attention to her, leaning forward in his seat.

"Professor Dumbledore and I had a brief discussion, and we are agreed that it would be prudent for you to learn some more advanced defense spells."

Harry nodded. "I'll try anything, if it'll help. I can't help but feel he's waiting for something. And I need to be ready when he acts."

Cassandra nodded approvingly, and then settled herself in her chair, folding her hands on top of the desk.

"Now, regarding your visions," she said, "As I already told you, you do not possess the Gift. So it seems unlikely that we will be able to control the visions as much as we would otherwise like. They are simply a side affect of Voldemort's failed spell. I've spent many hours in discussion with my colleagues regarding the best course of action, and I think it is best to start off simply. You must keep parchment and ink with you as often as possible, so that you can immediately write down everything you can remember following a vision. Even the smallest details could be useful in helping the Aurors to find his whereabouts. You must consider things like sounds, smells, even the colours around you."

Harry nodded, and waited for her to continue.

"We'll also be working on ways to get you to initiate the visions, so that rather than Voldemort's rage or power triggering them, it will be your own magic. I'll show you some of the common ways to induce a vision, many of which you will have touched on already in your Divination classes. For tonight, we'll try a simple meditation technique, which will be helpful later when we try to induce the visions."

She moved to the floor and motioned for Harry to sit beside her.

He did so reluctantly, feeling silly as he copied her cross-legged sitting position.

"Now, try to clear your mind of unnecessary thoughts." Cassandra's soothing voice murmured as he closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing as he was instructed. Less than a minute later, he sighed and opened his eyes.

"I can't do it!"

Cassandra shushed him with a wave of her hand, not opening her own eyes. "Try again."

Harry made a face, and feeling like an idiot, closed his eyes again. This time he concentrated on his breathing more intently, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. After five minutes or so, he felt he was beginning to get the hang of it...

Until his leg fell asleep. He groaned, opening his eyes and stretching his leg out, trying to get the feeling back.

"It's no use," he said, and Cassandra opened one eye to look at him. Apparently deciding it wasn't worth arguing over, she sighed, opening both eyes to give Harry an intent look.

"Very well," she said, getting to her feet. "We'll try it again. Same time next week. And if this technique doesn't work, there are a number of other methods we could try."

Harry paused, then clambered gratefully to his feet. There was an awkward moment of silence, then he said goodbye and headed for the door.

He paused in the classroom doorway, turning back to look at her where she was gathering things from the desk.

"Uh, Cassandra?" he asked hesitantly, wishing he hadn't spoken when she looked up at him, her eyes dark.

"Yes, Harry?" she replied, and Harry cleared his throat nervously. If only it could be possible...

"Did, uh, did you know my parents at all?" he asked in a rush, hoping for a positive answer.

Cassandra's voice was gentler than he had ever heard it, and her expression was very kind. "I knew of them," she said. "Everyone's heard of them of course. But they were several years ahead of me at Hogwarts. I don't think I ever once spoke to either of them, to my knowledge."

Seeing the disappointment on Harry's face, she continued, sounding apologetic. "I'm sorry if you thought I could be some sort of link to your parents, and I understand how you must feel, but I'm afraid I didn't know them personally."

Harry felt the disappointment weighing heavy on his stomach. "What about Sirius Black?" he asked, "Or Remus Lupin?"

Cassandra's face grew dark, eyes clouding over slightly. "Remus Lupin is a dangerous creature of Darkness who should not have been permitted to teach here. And as for Sirius Black, I remember the Daily Prophet articles when he killed all of those Muggles. Hopefully they'll have him back in Azkaban soon."

Harry's face fell, and he left the classroom, disheartened. He followed his usual route back to Gryffindor tower, not really paying attention to where he was going until he ran headlong into someone coming the other way.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed, bending to help pick up the books she'd dropped in their collision.

Ginny blushed, and took the books from him, holding them against her chest as if to prevent him from reading the titles.

"Hi, Harry," she said, bending her head so that her face was hidden by her hair, which now matched the colour of her cheeks.

"Were you in the library?" Harry asked, curiously, glancing at his watch. "It's almost 9 o'clock. You shouldn't be wondering the corridors on your own. Especially not the way things are now, with Voldemort-"

Ginny winced at the name and Harry cut himself off, shrugging apologetically.

"It's dangerous, Ginny," he tried again, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and steer her towards their common room. As his fingers made contact with her jumper, Ginny jumped, and took a step back from him, avoiding his eyes for a moment.

Confused, Harry tried to smile reassuringly. "Let me walk you back?" he asked.

Ginny hesitated, and then nodded, following him down the corridors. She refused his offers of help carrying her books, giggling a little as she did so.

They walked in companionable silence until they reached the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Harry spoke the password, and they both clambered through the portrait hole. As the painting swung shut behind them, Ginny muttered a brief thanks before turning to scurry up the stairs to the girls dorms, books still clutched firmly to her chest.

Harry watched her go, puzzled by her behaviour, then made his way over to where Hermione and Ron were sitting, arguing over what appeared to be a study schedule.

"You can't study on a Sunday evening!" Ron was protesting. "And we have Quidditch practice twice a week. You have to put that in too."

Hermione made a face at Ron as Harry sat down. "But the O.W.L.'s are only 8 months away!"

"What do you want us to do?" Ron asked in exasperation. "Read Intermediate Transfiguration on our broomsticks during matches?"

Hermione made an incensed sound, turning to Harry for help. "I hope that you can see the need to study this year?" she asked, sounding slightly pompous and not a bit unlike Percy Weasley when he was attempting to exert his authority.

Harry bit his lip, trying not to laugh, but when he saw the mixed look of fury, frustration and...something else on Ron's face, the laughter died on his lips. He nodded briefly, before opening a Divination text book. This appeared to remind Hermione of his lesson with Cassandra that night, and she questioned him about it.

"Did you learn anything useful tonight?" she asked. "Is she a good teacher?"

Harry made a face. "She's alright, I guess. We didn't do much. She tried to get me to meditate or something, but it really didn't work. She also said that Dumbledore's given her permission to teach me advanced protection charms."

Hermione gave him an envious look. "I've been reading some of the N.E.W.T. texts and there's some really powerful spells in there," she said, sighing wistfully. "I'm so jealous of you- I'd love to be able to learn a shielding charm or an advanced confusion jinx."

Ron nodded keenly. "You'll have to teach us, Harry," he said, eagerly. "I bet you're going to have so much fun. And with that Cassandra too...she's really something!"

Harry stifled another grin, seeing the cold look Hermione was shooting at Ron. His best friend seemed oblivious to this, and was chattering away about various charms Harry would probably be learning- charms that he had only heard mentioned by older students.

Suddenly an idea struck Harry, and he turned to his two best friends excitedly. "What if Dumbledore said you could learn the spells too?" He suggested, watching their faces. "I mean, it would be good for you to both know some defensive spells, especially as you're..." he trailed off, looking down into his lap.

"We're what, Harry?" Hermione asked, leaning across the table to touch his arm lightly.

Harry sighed. "You're targets too. Because of me. Because you're my friends."

He saw Ron and Hermione exchange a look, then Hermione got up from her seat, moving around the table to hug him fiercely.

"Don't be silly. It's not because of you. It's because of us. We chose to be your friend, and real friends stick together, no matter what. But I think it would be a wonderful idea for us to take lessons with you."

Ron groaned, obviously annoyed by the thought of extra work as Hermione moved back to her chair.

"Besides," she added, "I'm sure that some of the charms will come in very handy for my O.W.L. revision."

Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry grinned as his best friends began bickering again.

He paused in his studying to glance around the common room. Ron had said that all the Gryffindors believed in him. He hoped Ron was right. They were, in many ways, his family. The only family he'd ever know. The only place he felt he'd belonged, other than at The Burrow. And he wanted them to be safe.

Remembering his promise to the First Years on September 1st, he sought them out, finding them playing Exploding Snap in a corner of the room. William looked up from the game and met his eyes, smiling brightly at him. Harry smiled back, then returned his attention to the book in front of him, all the while aware of the young boy's eyes still watching him.

***

September quickly became October, bringing with it colder weather and the excited buzz that was the promise of the Halloween ball at the end of the month. Dumbledore had agreed with Harry's suggestion that Ron and Hermione were to be included for some of the training sessions, and they had already mastered a number of defensive charms. Ron was showing remarkable promise, and his ears had turned the same colour as his hair when Cassandra had complimented him on his quick learning.

For Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the first game of the season was quickly approaching. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin, and as Draco Malfoy had recently been made Slytherin Captain, Harry was pushing the team harder than they'd ever worked before. As the game drew nearer, the Gryffindor team could be seen trudging back from the Quidditch pitch late at night, exhausted and in desperate need of the showers. Fred and George Weasley had made a number of half-hearted comments about wanting Oliver Wood back as captain, much to Ron's amusement and Harry's chagrin.

The day of the match dawned crisp but clear. Harry was awoken by Ron, who was pacing the floor of their dormitory, muttering Quidditch strategies under his breath.

They headed down for breakfast, a hush falling over the Great Hall as the Gryffindor team strode in. Someone started clapping and soon more than half the Hall was welcoming them. Harry felt a sudden surge of pride. Then his gaze fell on the Slytherin table, where the students sat scowling, either silent or booing the opposing team. His eyes came to rest on Draco Malfoy, and they locked gazes for an instant. The Slytherin boy looked away first, and for the first time, Harry wondered what it would be like to be sitting where Malfoy was, when the rest of the school was rooting against his House. With a painful pang, he remembered back to his Sorting, and how the Hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin. But he'd fought against it. If he'd chosen differently, it would be him sitting at the table watching, hating. For a moment he felt sympathy for the blond boy and his teammates. And then he was caught up in the excited chatter of his housemates, the thought slipping from his mind.

***

The captains stepped towards each other, cool green eyes meeting harsh grey. Harry nodded grimly in acknowledgement and after a moment of hesitation Draco Malfoy did the same.

"Now, I want a good, clean game," Madame Hooch said pointedly, giving Malfoy a hard look. His grey eyes widened innocently, and then he smirked and nodded.

"Shake hands," she commanded.

There was a pause, then both boys reached out and grasped the others palm, each squeezing perhaps a little harder than necessary.

Hermione, witnessing this macho exhibition from her well-positioned seat in the stands, shook her head slowly and laughed to herself. She turned to speak to Neville Longbottom who was sitting beside her but paused, seeing the wistful expression on his face.

"I wish I was brave enough to play," he said with a sigh, seeing Hermione's enquiring look.

"Well, you know there'll be four positions open next year, once the twins and the girls leave." Hermione informed him.

"I'll never be good enough. I mean, look at them out there," he motioned at the field where Katie Bell had just put the Quaffle through a hoop using an advanced move.

"It just takes practice, Neville." Hermione responded "You've got the whole summer to improve. And why don't you ask Harry if he'll train with you a few times? He's really good and I'm sure he'd make an excellent coach."

She searched the sky and found Harry circling high above the other players. She smiled to herself, feeling the familiar ball of worry settle itself in her stomach. It was always that way at Quidditch matches. She'd be fine until she saw him flying 70 feet in the air or swooping swiftly towards the ground. Then the anxiety would kick in. It was funny, she realized, how strangely comforting this fear was. At least out there, no one was making an attempt on his life. Still, she was terrified for his safety of course, and now with Ron out there too...

"You really think the world of him, don't you?" Neville said quietly in her ear.

"Of course," Hermione replied, turning to face him. Surprise showed plainly on her face, as if wondering how anyone could not think of him that way. "He's my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without him."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry dive and quickly turned to follow him with her gaze.

Neville shook his head in amazement. How could the smartest girl at Hogwarts be so utterly clueless?

***

Harry circled slowly in the air, high above the other players. His only task was to catch the Snitch, and as the Bludgers were leaving him alone for a change, he was getting a bit bored. The game was proceeding well, if a bit more slowly than Harry would have liked, and at the moment catching the Snitch would be necessary only to end the game. Gryffindor was already 170 points in the lead, thanks to the combined efforts of Katie, Alicia and Ron's talent for scoring.

Harry watched them fly, grinning when he saw the look of joy on his best friend's face as he let the Quaffle fly past the Slytherin Keeper, bringing the score up to 210 to 30. Harry also noted with some surprise at how Dean Thomas possessed a rather surprising talent for letting no more than one in ten shots get past him.

Harry scanned the pitch without luck, then stole a reassuring glance at Draco to ensure he hadn't sighted the Snitch himself. As he searched the pitch again his gaze began to wander and he let his eyes rove the crowd. Almost subconsciously he sought her out, spiraling closer to find her in her usual spot amongst the other 5th year Gryffindors. For a change she wasn't reading some huge tome, as was the norm at Quidditch matches.

Her face was raised skywards and she appeared to be looking for something.

Their eyes met and he was caught in her gaze. Then suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of gold. Tearing himself away from her intense stare he swerved around and started into a steep dive. In his peripheral vision he could see Draco swooping down towards him and he smiled in satisfaction as his fingers closed around the fluttering golden ball. A cheer rose from the crowd and Harry slowed down and turned slightly to see Draco's expression. But the Slytherin seeker hadn't slowed down quite enough and Harry didn't manage to move from his path.

With a loud CRASH they collided and tumbled to the ground, a mass of tangled limbs and broomsticks.

Thankfully the ground was now only 9 or 10 feet away but they still hit with a sickening thud. There was a noisy CLUNK as their heads banged together and both boys were knocked into unconsciousness.

***

Back in the stands, Hermione rose in her seat as Harry broke their connection and dived. Around her the crowd was going wild. When Gryffindor and Slytherin played, the other houses generally supported Gryffindor, so the majority of spectators were clapping and cheering as Harry grabbed the Snitch. Seconds later that same crowd let out a collective gasp of horror followed by a deafening silence as the two Seekers collided and hurtled towards the ground.

Hermione watched aghast, frozen to the spot.

Then she grabbed her books and ran from the stands, Ginny, Seamus and Neville following close behind.

She sprinted across the pitch to the small huddle of players and professors. "Harry! Harry!" she shouted hysterically. Between the figures she could see Harry and Draco being magicked onto stretchers.

She started towards them but a strong arm reached out and grabbed her around the waist.

She turned around, incensed and looked up into Ron's face. "It's ok, Hermione. He'll be ok. It wasn't as bad as it looked."

She stared up at him. "Are you sure?" she asked in a small voice, holding back the tears.

Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah, we'll give Madame Pomfrey a few minutes to patch him up and then head up to the infirmary, ok?"

Hermione wiped away a tear, then nodded, leaning against his chest and hugging him tightly.

Ron rested his head on the top of her head and sighed, an unreadable emotion in his eyes.