Design for Life

Chapter 2 - Walking Contradiction

Up in the Divination classroom, Harry and Ron sat together at the same small round coffee table listening to Sybil Trelawney as she spoke about casting runes. As usual the air was warm and sweet smelling and Harry felt his concentration begin to drift. He was so tired, even though he had gone to bed very early the previous night and as far as he could remember slept a long, deep and dreamless sleep, unencumbered by any kind of terror. Most of him believed what Ron had said the previous afternoon about vivid dreams. He knew he had them, and mostly they were nightmares, which sometimes woke Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean (when he was around), or at least had done until he had begun placing silencing charms around his bed before retiring, but there was something about the memory that worried him slightly. He had tried to push the thought to the back of his mind, but there was something about the atmosphere in the Divination classroom which bought it to mind again and made him feel nervous. He sighed inwardly, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, this was his final year at Hogwarts and it felt as if his entire future rested on getting good grades in his final NEWT's. Wrestling his academic work and responsibilities as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was starting to wear thin, and as much as he didn't like to admit it, Ron was right about Melisande being the best keeper of the house teams.

He felt Ron poke him urgently in the leg, and glanced up. Ron jerked his head towards Professor Trelawney, who was motioning the class to stand round Lavender and Parvati's table so that everyone could see the proper way to cast rune stones. Harry shrugged and tried to stand up, but found his legs were incapable of supporting his weight and he slumped back down into his chair. He waved a hand at Ron who tutted and grabbed him by the wrist to pull him to his feet, and this time he managed a few steps before having to stop and rest, holding onto the back of a chair for support. By this time, most of the class except Lavender, Parvati and Trelawney were watching him with great interest. Harry smiled weakly. "Ummm... I think my leg's gone to sleep..." he muttered, and stumbled further towards the front of the class. Ron caught him just as he reached the front and started to topple over again.

Harry knew where he was before he even opened his eyes. He could feel the cool cotton sheets around him. Only one place smelt like this, he was back in the hospital wing.

He sat against the wall of the science block watching the other children playing. He watched the dynamics of the football games, with all the arguments and changing teams. The sheer idiocy of the game annoyed him, there seemed to be something he couldn't quite put his finger on missing. He was forced to play football with all the other boys during the weekly P.E lessons, but he would prefer not to, and knew that the others in his class would have preferred him not to either, simply to save on the decision as to which team he had to be on. Sometimes that particular argument would last all lesson...

He also watched the girls playing their games of make-believe, dreams of being princesses, popstars and champion jockeys. Although the aims seemed trivial, he could understand at least where these dreams came from. He spent his nights dreaming of a different life, one that was free of the Dursleys and of this school. One where he had friends he could joke and talk with, where he could live without fear of who was around the next corner waiting, one where he felt free.

He both loved and hated watching the other pupils, he loved watching them perform the graceful dances of friendship from which he was barred, but the realisation that he would never be a part of their games hit him hard and left him cold.

"Oh god, we must be near the drains..." Harry looked up as a dark shadow fell across him.

"Can anyone smell something bad? What about you, Chris?" the voice belonged to Jason, the one boy in the school who seemed to care enough about Harry to make his life a misery. He was tall with coppery red hair, which Harry secretly admired. Jason had stepped into Dudley's shoes quite quickly and along with his friends Chris and Neil sought Harry out at least once a day to see how far they could push him.

"Yeah, definitely something fishy smelling..." answered Chris, his voice just on the edge of breaking.

Jason looked down, his face arranged in a look of mock surprise. "Oh goodness me, Potty, didn't see you down there... Don't worry guys, I know where that smell's coming from now..."

Harry pulled himself to his feet. "Just leave me alone Jay, I don't want to start anything with you..."

"Yeah, well, that's too bad, 'cos we wanna start something with you." Neil slammed his hand against the wall, barring Harry's exit.

Harry gulped.

After Harry had collapsed, Professor Trelawney sent Ron down to the Hospital wing to collect Madame Pomfrey. As he ran down the staircases and along almost half a mile of corridors he imagined all sorts of terrible scenarios. Was You-know-who back again? Dementors? He tried to think of curses that could be powerful enough to attack from a distance, but decided that there must be wards up around the school that prevented such a thing. In the end he tried to push the thought from his mind, but Ron knew that whenever Harry collapsed, Hogwarts was in for a bad week.

He burst in through the doors of the hospital and was surprised to see Dumbledore and McGonagall there, talking to Madame Pomfrey as she was mixing up a potion. The three adults stared at Ron as he stood, red faced and puffing from the run in the doorway.

Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Not Harry again?" he asked, looking concerned.

Ron nodded and stammered "D... D...Divination"

Madame Pomfrey put down the vial she was holding and stood up. "Come on then, let's see what's wrong with him this time..." and ushered Ron out of the Hospital and back the way he had come.

As the door swung closed, Professor McGonagall turned to Dumbledore who had picked up the vial that Madam Pomfrey had just left and was twirling it in his fingers.

"It... It could be nothing you know, Albus, the boy could be tired, or worried about his exams, and you know how Sybil likes to keep her room all warm and closed in..."

Albus Dumbledore said nothing for a while, and when he spoke he sounded full of worry.

"Sirius sent me this yesterday. He risked a lot to get it to me, so it must be important..."

He handed McGonagall the piece of parchment that had been delivered to him the previous morning.

"I've been trying to think what I could do about it, but there doesn't really seem to be any course of action."

Professor McGonagall quickly scanned the short note, her eyes widened in surprise.

"But surely there must be some mistake. This can't be right? Can it? I mean, Sirius must be mistaken."

"Oh come now Minerva, you don't believe that for a second. I believe Sirius thought what he saw was true. I don't think he would lie about that. Unfortunately I also believe my own eyes, and until I get more information, there really is nothing I can do."

The two professors sat in silence, waiting for the return of Madam Pomfrey, lost in thought.

Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall all listened to Harry's story. No, his scar didn't hurt, no, he didn't have a headache at all, yes, his side hurt a bit and he was feeling a bit weak, no, he hadn't been getting much sleep recently...

Surprisingly Madam Pomfrey beamed at him.

"Well done Potter, I was starting to despair of you ever coming in here for a normal reason... In my professional opinion, you're coming down with the flu. You just need a good rest and you'll be as right as rain in a few days."

She handed him a potion. "Drink." She commanded. Harry did as he was told. "Now just lie back and get some sleep. I daresay Miss Granger will collect your homework for you..."

Harry lay down and heard the three sets of footsteps getting fainter and fainter as he gently drifted off to sleep.

Stephen was woken up by a loud banging on the front door. He had fallen asleep at his desk, his head buried under the latest pile of paperwork. He looked at his watch. 1.32 am. The night shift was always the worst, most of the punters were drunk or high and needed somewhere to sleep off whatever they had taken that evening. He stumbled towards the doors as the knocking started up again, more insistent this time.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your hair on. I'm coming!" he called as he reached for the keys and began to unlock the door.

As the door to the shelter swung open, a man pushed his way in and shouted

"Shut the flamin' door, they're after me again!"

Stephen recognised him immediately, he came to the shelter for a few days every month, he didn't know his real name or even his age, he looked quite young, but that didn't really mean much. He was known on the street as 'Wizard', but no one seemed to know why.

Stephen slammed and locked the door behind him as he heard the sound of running feet coming up the alley.

"What the hell have you done now?" he demanded. "You better not be bringing any trouble round here again, you know the super, if she has to call the police again, you're out of here."

Wizard stood with his back to him in the hallway. His hair was cut into a long mohican, with the sides shaved back, revealing long-healed scars on his scalp. His shoulders heaved with the effort of running and Stephen noticed that his long black raincoat was torn and muddy. It looked as though someone had been kicking him.

Stephen sighed. He had first volunteered at the homeless shelter during university as a way of giving something back to the community, and when he left and discovered that his long fought for degree wasn't really worth the piece of paper it was written on, he had taken on a job there.

Wizard aimed a kick at the empty umbrella stand in the corner, missed and span round to face him. Stephen had been right, someone had been beating him. His nose and lip were bleeding and his glasses were missing. Not for the first time Stephen noticed how thin Wizard was, especially under his huge chunky sweater. He wondered again about the series of event that had led Wizard here. There were so many unanswered questions about him, and unlike many of the other people, who came through the doors of the shelter, Wizard seemed very reluctant to talk about his past. Stephen wondered about his parents, where they were, and if they were worried about their son. He thought of his own parents and his younger sister Kathy, safe in their comfortable semi. What would they go through if he vanished through the cracks like Wizard had done?

The two men looked at each other across a divide that was much wider than the hallway at Cross Street Homeless Shelter.

Stephen walked forward. "Well, come on then. Let's get you cleaned up."

Wizard pulled a pair of wire framed glasses out of his coat pocket. "Can we fix these again? They got... broken." he finished lamely.

Stephen started helping the other man up the stairs, Wizard was limping badly and Stephen was surprised that he was running so fast before. "Sure thing. Let's just see to your face first. That looks nasty. What happened?"

Wizard shrugged. "Three guys. Don't think they liked the look of me. Found us under the railway arches, and politely explained that they didn't want me round there again."

They walked in silence to the upstairs bathroom.

"Will you be Ok? I've got some paperwork I really need to get done before Mrs Halliday gets back."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll mop meself up and find ya later..."

Stephen shut the door behind him and made his way back to the office. He stopped by the front door to check for signs of anyone that might have been following Wizard, but hearing nothing he went back to the small back room.

The boy known as Wizard stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't look too bad this time, he thought. Hell, Jason and his cronies used to do worse to him at school. He ran some tissue paper under the tap and started to wipe up the drying blood round his nose piercing. It hurt a hell of a lot, but didn't think that it had been broken again. What did worry him was the pain in his mouth. He had spat out a lot of blood while running and he suspected that his attackers had broken one of his teeth. He smiled at himself in the mirror and saw that he was right, one of his canines was missing.

It had been Jason who had hit him first, Harry was sure of that, and he tried to tell the Headmaster that. Jason, whose father was one of the school governors and as far as the teachers were aware never did anything wrong. Of course no one believed him.

Jason had swung a heavy punch at Harry's stomach as he was still watching Neil blocking his way with a long, muscular arm. Harry had been pushed against the wall by the force of the punch and he doubled over, gasping for breath. In that split second, Harry decided to fight back. He balled up his fist and smashed it straight into Jason's unaware and laughing face.

There were a few seconds of stunned silence while Jason, Chris and Neil worked out what had happened.

Jason smiled a cruel smile. "Oh Potter, you are SO going to regret that!"

And with that, the three of them had all jumped on top of him at once and started to rain down punches.

Harry had very little time to react, and even now he wasn't sure how he had managed to floor Jason. He didn't even think that he had touched him. All that he could be sure of was lying on the ground with Neil and Chris holding his shoulders and feet as Jason pulled his arm back to take another swing. Harry managed to wrestle one of his arms free and hold it up for the protection that it might afford. The next thing he knew, Jason was lying several meters away looking dazed and Chris and Neil were backing away from him slowly. One of the teachers, Miss Milner, pushed past the two and helped Jason to his feet. She turned to Harry.

"What the hell happened here!?" she shouted angrily. "Potter, explain yourself!"

Harry had tried to explain. He tried to explain that he had no idea how Jason had landed 4 meters away from him. He tried to explain that they had started on him first and that whatever had happened had happened in self-defence, but it was clear that the school held him responsible.

He had been given a month of detentions and sent to the Headmaster's office.

Back in the Hospital wing, Harry woke from a very strange dream. Ron and Hermione were sitting nearby; Ron was still talking about Melisande.

"Did you know that her brother has had 4 books on Herbology published? He's a world expert apparently... Oh, Harry, you're awake!"

"Hey" he muttered. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Hermione smiled. "How are you feeling? Ron told me that you collapsed... Again."

"Yeah, I'm Ok. Madam Pomfrey says that I'm coming down with flu or something." It was Harry's turn to smile as Ron and Hermione slowly edged their chairs further away from him.

"You haven't been having any more memories then?"

"Nope, nothing. I did have a funny dream though. I thought I was running away from somebody, I think Sirius was there... and I'm pretty sure I had my nose pierced..."

Ron and Hermione started to giggle. Hermione buried her face in the sleeve of her robe and Ron sniggered "Then it was definitely a dream, I just can't imagine you with anything pierced, it would look really, really strange..."