Harry Potter and the Orb of Power

                    Chapter 22: The Owlery

    Snow began falling early in November; the weather had become bitingly cold and it seemed as if Hogwarts was to be bombarded with a long winded blizzard. The Great Hall echoed the weather outside; the high arching ceiling was obscured by an ominous looking grey cloud that poured open and dumped snow into the air. It was early on Saturday morning that Harry found himself looking up at this sky, watching as the large amounts of snow fell from the ceiling and then vanished before it approached the tables. The hall was empty; it was early enough that the sun had not yet risen and the sky was still very dark. Harry was finding it harder and harder to sleep; his dreams of the sentinel in a mysterious room were getting worse and worse. Each time the dream would be more realistic, and ultimately more gruesome. The amounts of blood shed was increasing each time Harry saw the same killing blow the white wizard dealt to the dark wizard. The dead look in the dark wizard's eyes as the white wizard decapitated him was haunting. Harry remembered the battle scene from his encounter with the sentinel, and whatever happened that day, it was carrying over months afterwards.

    Yet as haunting as these dreams were, Harry was sure that some important information, some revelation was waiting in the shadows, yearning to be discovered. And each time Harry had his dream, the words from the sentinel became louder and clearer, a message laden with meaning that Harry couldn't figure out. The words echoed through his head during class, during sleep. He couldn't get them out of his mind.

    "This is your past, and your future."

    What was? Was it mindless drivel from a sentinel? And what exactly were sentinels anyways? Harry had missed Dumbledore's speech on the sentinels, as he was in the hospital wing. He remembered that McGonagall said they weren't alive, but not dead either. Were they resurrected spirits? They weren't ghosts, because ghosts couldn't physically manipulate their surroundings. But they can't be resurrected, Dumbledore had said that magic could not bring the dead to life. But the sentinels seemed to be the exception. What were they? Harry was desperate to find out, because one of them had a key to some important clue, and Harry was desperate to discover it. Harry looked around, and saw the tables were empty. He actually enjoyed the silence, the lack of chatter that usually pervaded the Great Hall. He found solace in its emptiness, and felt calm and relaxed. In the quiet, Harry didn't have to worry about whether everyone thought he was a loony. He didn't have to worry about his grades, or Ron and Hermione sniping at each other, or Cho looking mournfully at him; Harry felt, for one of the few times this whole school year, that he was content. He heard footsteps in the Great Hall, turned, and saw Hermione walking towards him. Harry felt his insides squirm; he was alone with Hermione a lot lately now that her and Ron were not talking. Harry often spent time with either Ron, or Hermione, never with both at the same time. Since the Hogsmeade day, Ron and Hermione made a mutual decision to spend some time away, in a desire to prevent any more damage to their friendship. And while they were making progress, (they had not argued in a few days) Harry missed the times when all three of them could enjoy the days and get through homework together. Harry honestly felt as if it wasn't Hogwarts without the three of them together. Hermione yawned as she sat down next to Harry, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Harry felt his heart jump to his throat, and he was going to ask her what she was doing up so early, but decided that he would enjoy the silence. A few minutes of silence passed between them, and finally Hermione spoke.

    "Morning, Harry."

    "Morning, Hermione."

    "Still having nightmares?"

    "Hmm." Silence fell between them again, light began to stream through the Hogwarts' windows. In a moment, students would be streaming down for breakfast.

    "How come you're up so early?" Harry asked Hermione.

    "I figured you weren't sleeping well, so I'd give you some company."

    "Thanks." Hermione yawned, and straightened up; Harry couldn't help but wish she hadn't moved. Students began to trickle into the Great Hall, and the noise level gradually increased.

    "I can't believe, after going through the library, that we haven't discovered anything new," Hermione said as the bulk of the Hogwarts students filed into the Great Hall.

    "I know, but I guess that means no more looking," Harry said. Hermione grinned, and began to eat some scrambled eggs. Harry saw Ron enter the Great Hall, and Harry beckoned him over, half expecting that Ron would just wave and walk away. However, much to his surprise, Ron came over and sat down across from Harry. Harry looked nervously from Hermione and Ron, and hoped that they wouldn't start arguing again.

    "Morning Harry," Ron said.

    "Morning Ron," Harry replied.

    "Good morning Hermione," Ron said, in a polite voice, and Harry couldn't tell if Ron was being sarcastic or not. He waited on baited breath.

    "Good morning Ron," Hermione replied. Harry smiled in spite of himself, just that was enough to tell that they were headed in the right direction. The three of them had a polite discussion on Christmas holidays, and were discussing their plans. Harry hadn't told them about Neville's plight, he was keeping true to Dumbledore's promise and letting Neville explain everything. Neville still didn't talk about how his parents were tortured, but Harry felt that he was on his way to being open about his past. Harry listened to Hermione and Ron politely exchanging Christmas plans, and felt hopeful for the two of them. He knew that their friendship would be repaired in a relatively short amount of time. But a grim realization set in at the same time; if Ron and Hermione were friends again, then they were probably likely to attempt another go at romance. And while Harry understood that this had been brewing for years, he couldn't rid himself of the sneaky feeling that he was jealous of Ron. Ron and Hermione continued their formal conversation, and Harry decided to break in, deciding that he could at least be polite and tell them where he was going, but not go into specifics. He started by telling them where he was going for Christmas. He explained that he was going to St. Mungo's to help Neville, but they had to be quiet about it, as he didn't want Neville's personal life spreading through the school.

    "But how are his parents sick?" Ron asked, taking a drink of orange juice out of his goblet.

    "Erm...I dunno, Neville didn't explain," Harry said evasively. It was true enough, yet he felt out of place telling Hermione and Ron that Neville's parents were tortured. They continued with a small chat on Christmas when they heard someone enter the Great Hall. It was Lucius Malfoy, and he was talking with the headmaster. Malfoy was accompanied by a young man who was taking notes for him. Ron and Harry scowled at Malfoy, as Hermione looked puzzled and confused.

    "What is he doing here?" Hermione asked, getting a shrug from Ron and no response from Harry. They watched Malfoy conjure up a chair and sit next to the headmaster, who looked as weary and troubled as ever. Harry looked away from him, and then at Hermione.

    "We should ask Hagrid. We've been so busy we haven't seen him at all this year, and he was with Dumbledore and Malfoy when Malfoy first showed up," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted, the lack of sleep was getting to him. His responsibilities were really beginning to wear him out. Prefect duty wasn't too much of a bother, but calling Quidditch practices and making Quidditch plans was a major headache. Looking up information on the Orb and Malagar was also very difficult, and frustrating. His extra work for Snape was always a disaster, and every other Professor was adding onto the workload. Harry felt overwhelmed, and Ron, who too was shouldering much responsibility, had generously proposed that he shoulder more of the Quidditch work. Ron loved helping drawing up plans and calling practices, and Harry let him do it, seeing as he was so passionate. With Quidditch practices and plans delegated to someone else, Harry felt that his workload was much more manageable. He of course kept up to speed with Ron, and together they made a potent team, crafting a Gryffindor program that was looking closer and closer to Wood's dream team. The three of them mostly spent the time catching up on their workloads, and by dinner time they had caught up completely, and even began a head start on some of next week's homework. Hermione had successfully aided Harry and Ron learn the Vanishing Charm for Transfiguration, and in return, Harry had helped the two of them keep up to date with the dueling spells that Mrs. Figg was teaching at an astounding rate.     After Christmas holiday, Mrs. Figg was going to teach them to apply their knowledge, as well as teaching them to learn to spot Dark Arts. Their latest assignment, to practice some of the offensive spells they had learned, was particularly difficult, as the spells were rather fiddly. She had taught them the Macabre Hand, the spell used to pacify spirits and specifically sentinels, and the Circle of Fire, a spell designed to trap an attacker in a circle of flames. Harry had picked up on both quite well, but Ron and Hermione were having trouble with the Macabre Hand. They were in a spare classroom that Professor McGonagall let them borrow, just like the year before, and they had set up a stack of pillows as a target.

    "Suspendi Sentiem!" Ron shouted, and nothing happened. Hermione attempted to as well, but managed to only light the tip of her wand, and then nothing happened. Harry grinned.

    "You have to first hold your wand still, until the ball of dark stuff gets bigger. Then you have to wave your wand like this," Harry showed them, as if he was drawing a quick circle, or twirling a streamer.

    "Suspendi Sentiem!" A black ball emerged from the tip of Harry's wand, sucking up the light in the room. He twirled his wand, and the black ball released itself from the tip of his wand. It hovered for a moment, and then shot forward and hit the pillows in the blink of an eye.

    "This is so frustrating," Hermione muttered, attempting it again. Neither of them were getting the hang of it. Harry looked at them, and tried to figure out what he was doing differently.

    "Maybe it's what you're thinking of. It's kind of like a reverse Patronus. You have to think of something unhappy to do it," Harry said. "Every time I think of the spell, I think of the dreams I've been having, and it works every time." Hermione paused for a moment, and her eyes narrowed on the pillows.

    "Suspendi Sentiem!" A black ball emerged from her wand, and with a twirl of her wand, it left her wand, hovered, and shot for the pillows. "I did it!" Ron screwed up his face, muttering something like "damn spiders" and he also managed to perform the spell. They practiced a few more times, and managed to really get the hang of it.

    "What was the other spell she wanted us to practice?" Ron asked.

    "The Circle of Fire," Harry said grimly. That one would be harder to practice without lighting everything on fire.

    "That one Mrs. Figg said to practice in the dungeons on the cold stone," Hermione said. She picked out a slip of parchment. "She gave us passes, just in case Snape tries to give us detentions or dock house points."

    "I'm surprised she even bothered," Harry said darkly. "The way she's been acting, you'd think she would want us to get in trouble."

    "I know," Hermione said fretfully as the three of them headed to the dungeons. "At least with Snape we know why he loathes you. Mrs. Figg hardly says anything to the students besides the lesson and the criticisms she has."

    "She doesn't seem to like teaching much," Ron muttered.

    "Well, she does it, so she must have a passion for it," Hermione disagreed. "But she does seem...bitter." No one had a response for what Hermione had said. The entered the dungeon and saw Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson kissing. Ron made loud retching noise, and Malfoy looked up at them. Pansy looked surprised, an expression that looked to Harry as if she had swallowed a slug.

    "What are you three gits doing down here," Malfoy drawled. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, if you don't mind, now get out," Hermione snarled, not once looking at Pansy Parkinson.

    "What's got your panties in a twist? Is it because you and the pauper can't work out your problems?" Malfoy sneered. Ron turned beet red, and glared menacingly at Malfoy.

    "Why don't you and the hyena get out of here, and make your litter somewhere else?" he snarled savagely. Malfoy's eyes coldly narrowed, and he took out his wand.

    "Say it again, you filthy toe-rag, and you'll get another mouthful of slugs," Malfoy hissed.

    "So then he'd look like Pansy. Watch out Ron, he might try to kiss you then," Harry snapped. Malfoy turned to him.

    "You'll pay for that one, Potter," Malfoy spat, waving his wand. Malfoy was ready to strike; Harry plunged his hand into his robes to pull out his wand, but to his surprise, Malfoy had frozen in his spot. Harry was about to laugh, but he too felt that he couldn't move.

    "Potter! Malfoy! Fighting in school? Ten points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor!" Mrs. Figg had swept into the dungeons. She was pointing her wand at Malfoy and Harry. She narrowed her eyes, her dark blue robes billowing behind her like wings as she rounded on the two of them. "I expect better behavior from two fifth years, and prefects no less," she spat angrily. She still had not unfrozen the two of them. A pair of footsteps had entered the room, and Harry turned his eyes as much as he could, and he saw Snape and Malfoy entering the dungeons.

    "What is going on!" hissed Lucius Malfoy, his hand on the tip of his walking staff.

    "You're son and Harry Potter were about to duel," Mrs. Figg said, her eyes narrowing on Lucius. A member of the enigmatic Order and a Death Eater were staring at each other, with Snape, who was supposed to be both, hanging between them. "And I stopped them before any damage was done."

    "Very well, Professor..."

    "Figg, Mrs. Arabella Figg," Mrs. Figg snapped impatiently. Lucius' cold, grey eyes narrowed.

    "Very well, Professor. I insist, however, that you unhand my son, before I report you to the headmaster," Lucius drawled.

    "Very well, report me to the headmaster. However, your son shall remain as he is, until I have had the satisfaction of making sure he has learned his lesson," Mrs. Figg said icily.

    "I'm sure that it was the Potter boy who instigated," Snape began to say, but Mrs. Figg glanced at him.

    "And as much as your opinion, as a professor, has merit, you were not here when it started, so your unfounded allegations will have to wait for another day, Severus," Mrs. Figg snapped. Snape looked as if he had been struck in the face.

    "Show me to the headmaster's office," Lucius raged, his face shaking with fury. Snape gave another cold look at Mrs. Figg, and then swept out of the dungeons, followed by Lucius Malfoy. Mrs. Figg glared at them, and then turned and unfroze Draco and Harry. Harry was grinning, Mrs. Figg had both repelled Lucius and Snape. However, Mrs. Figg rounded on him.

    "Wipe that absurd grin off of your face, Mr. Potter," she hissed, and Harry at once stopped grinning. She gave Draco a cold look. "You and Ms. Parkinson will follow me. The dungeons are no place for you to be indulging your sordid and, if I may so myself, rather unpleasant affair." Pansy scowled and exited the dungeon. As Draco walked by Harry, he shoved Harry out of the way, and was forced backwards into Ron. Mrs. Figg, whose back was turned, made no indication she saw this, until Malfoy passed her. "And for that, Mr. Malfoy, you get a week's worth detention. May this be a lesson that you are not to lay your filthy hands on another student ever again." When she left, Harry gave Hermione a look of displeasure.

    "Who is that woman? She is not the woman that used to babysit me," Harry hissed.

    "She's not particularly pleased with either Gryffindor or Slytherin," Hermione said. "She's like an unbiased version of Snape. Well, in any case, we had better practice this spell." Hermione looked at Harry, who seemed rather nervous. "Put up a shield, to protect you from the fire. Harry raised his wand and put up a shield. With a grim look of concentration, Hermione raised her wand.

    "Circus Incendium!" Hermione shouted. A rope of fire emerged from her wand and surrounded Harry. The flames rose higher than Harry, who felt slightly more nervous as he looked at the flames.

    "Looks good, Hermione, now put it out," Harry said. Hermione waved her wand, and the fire vanished. "I'm not a fan of that one."

*****

    The night fell quickly, dropping its darkness on the castle rather early. Harry had been consumed with questions on the incident in the dungeons. Why exactly was Lucius Malfoy at Hogwarts? And what was up with Mrs. Figg? She was very hostile, not many people that Harry knew seemed to like her much, but they all insisted that she was a good teacher.

    "She's like an unfair McGonagall," one of the fourth years had been saying in the common room. "Strict, but she has some sort of bias. Against everyone." The enigmatic Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was indeed very hostile, but despite her seeming vendetta against the students, and particularly Harry, he had managed to maintain his excellent grades in the subject. He picked up quite well on all of the new spells and concepts, mostly because they would all be a lot of help when and if Voldemort decided to show up at Hogwarts. Harry had loads of questions, but most pressing on his mind was where Sirius was. He was desperate for information on his whereabouts, and the thoughts that he was captured were rather chilling. Harry could just imagine Voldemort torturing him right now, or even worse, Wormtail, who Harry felt had betrayed the Marauders in such a way that was irredeemable. Harry could not sleep, and he decided once again to try to find Sirius. Harry wasn't sure Hedwig would be up to the challenge; she was still smarting from a wound she had received months ago. Yet Harry felt as if he wasn't trying hard enough to find him. Harry got up from his bed, grabbed the Invisibility Cloak, and headed downstairs. He wished he had his Marauder's Map, but he didn't get it back at the end of last year; it was lost among the chaos that night. Harry covered himself in the cloak and headed to the Owlery. It wasn't too late, he was allowed to prowl the hallways, but not for long, and Harry didn't feel like being bothered by anyone at the moment. He was too busy thinking about Sirius, he didn't have time to think about anything else at the moment. Before he knew it, he was in the Owlery, and he was looking for Hedwig. It didn't take too long, Hedwig was perched on one of the lower beams; she saw him, and fluttered down, perching tenderly on his arm. Harry saw that she still had the two marks on her leg, and he was very worried. They didn't look healed in the slightest. Harry looked up and saw that the Owlery was empty except for Hedwig, who must have been unable to hunt. She looked thinner than usual, as if she hadn't been getting enough to eat.

    "You look sick," Harry said, very worried. Hedwig was like a best friend, he couldn't stand to see her suffering. "Have you been eating?" Hedwig hooted mournfully. "I want you to come to breakfast, you won't like the taste of toast, but you'll have to eat some of it." Hedwig hooted again. Harry felt bad, he couldn't send her out on a post when she was in a right state. He stroked her feathers, and he heard a flapping in the distance. All the other owls couldn't bring back any food? It seemed unjust to Harry, but he figured that they didn't even notice Hedwig's plight. Harry stroked Hedwig, looking at her marks, when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Harry wheeled, and to his horror, saw Professor Snape.

    "Well, well, Potter is breaking more rules," Snape said with a malicious smile. "And after this morning's debacle, I'm sure you were unwilling to get into more trouble with Professor Figg." Harry glared at Snape coldly.

    "I'm not breaking any rules," Harry said back.

    "It is after the set time for prefects to be wandering the halls, Potter, but surely you have no respect for that rule either?" Snape glared, his smile growing wider with each passing insult. Harry said nothing back; Snape was trying to egg him on, something that Harry was trying with all his might not to let Snape succeed at. Hedwig hooted impatiently at Snape, whose black eyes shifted from Harry to the owl. "It seems your owl carries your same attitude," Snape hissed with less malice than he used towards Harry. Snape saw the two marks on the owl. "Give her here, Potter." Harry would rather feed Hedwig to a pack of lions than hand her over to Snape, but Hedwig flapped her wings and flew over to him. Snape pulled a vial out of his pocket, containing a glowing blue substance. He opened it and dabbled a few drops onto Hedwig's wounds. She hooted angrily, but Snape held her steady. Harry's jaw clenched, he didn't know what that stuff was, but it was hurting her. But much to Harry's surprise, the marks disappeared. Hedwig hooted, flapped her wings, and then flew out of the Owlery. Snape turned to Harry after depositing the rest of the fluid in his pockets.

    "What is that stuff?" Harry asked.

    "Vampire's Cross. It is the antidote for many vampire and vampire bat related maladies. In this instance, it repels the poison found in vampire bats," Snape muttered.

    "Vampire bats have poison?" Harry asked confusedly.

    "Yes. It's not widely known, as it is very untraceable. However, it keeps the bite wounds open until the prey is dead. As your owl survived, the poison kept the wound open, allowing for infection. I don't expect a thank you, Potter." Snape turned to leave the Owlery, as if he had talked enough with Harry.

    "And how did you know a vampire bat bit her?" Harry demanded, but Snape continued out without answering. "Maybe you were the one that ordered the attack," Harry hissed under his breath. Snape knew more about what was going on than Harry did, and it was probably because, Harry felt, that Snape was working for Voldemort, even if it was as a spy for Dumbledore. But no matter how much Dumbledore proclaimed that Snape was on their side, he would never trust Snape until he heard the proof himself.