Chapter 10: Unsteady
Hogwarts, January 8th 1996
It's the first day of school after the holidays, and I already wish I could return to Grimmauld Place. By lunch I've explained to at least six members from DA, who have asked me the date for our next meeting, that I'll inform them about it as soon as I've worked it out. A persistent Zacharias Smith isn't satisfied, and I get to explain to him that I have to take remedial Potions, so I can settle the date after I know more about my weekly schedule. Of course, the twat looks at me like I'm actually stupid and wonders loudly how poorly I must be doing in Potions before leaving towards the Great Hall.
Ron promises to jinx Smith from my behalf, but even that doesn't help with my mood.
But then we run into Cho.
I'm…I don't even…shit. Hermione and Ron slip discreetly away, the good friends they are, and then I'm alone with her in the hallway. I swallow hard, my mind whirling, as I try to figure out what to say to her.
She asks about my holiday, and I lamely reply with only a few words. I can't focus. Do I fancy her? I assume so, since all I can do is to stare at her lips. They're quite nice. Soft. Feminine.
Bollocks. My mind is wandering, and she's still talking, and I haven't heard a word. It has something to do with the upcoming Hogsmeade trip a couple of days after Valentine's Day. I do not read the situation very well, and only after she walks away with an abashed look on her face, I understand what she was implying. She wants me to ask her to go to the village with me. She wants me to ask her on a date.
"CHO!" I exclaim, and run after her.
She turns around and I stop in front of her, panting slightly. "I'm sorry. I, um…Would you like to go into Hogsmeade with me, on a date?" I ask, stumbling in my words a bit.
Her soft lips turn into a wide smile. "I'd like that," She says with a bashful look, her cheeks pink.
"Okay, great…That's sorted then. I'll um…I'll see you then. Or before that. Definitely before that. But not like, on a date. I mean, we'll see each other between classes, before our date." I mumble incoherently.
I realise I do not know how to express myself. Luckily Cho doesn't seem to care.
I'm grinning the whole way down to the Great Hall, where I assume Ron and Hermione have gone to, but before stepping inside, an odd feeling washes over me. I feel…almost guilty. Why is that?
I frown at the entrance as in my mind, the soft lips of Cho's transform into a pair belonging to someone else entirely. I wonder, would they be equally soft? But hard at the same time? Or demanding in a way that can be only achieved with…what, experience? One's personality?
Why am I even thinking about them? Why am I thinking about him?
My head is spinning, my scar is prickling, and I can feel a headache coming. I quickly turn around and walk towards the Gryffindor Tower, to my dormitory. I decide to skip lunch and rest for a bit before our afternoon classes. I'll need all my strength for tonight.
Hogwarts, January 9th 1996
Yesterday night was utter rubbish. I hate him. Snape. He's teaching me to learn Occlumency, a skill that I could use to close my mind from intrusion, and to shield myself against possession.
Generally speaking, Occlumency sounds reasonable, and I'm even slightly interested to learn about the mysterious branch of magic, but with Snape teaching it…let's just say, my curiosity might be fading rapidly.
Last night was something I hadn't been prepared to. I got to relive some of the most painful and embarrassing memories from my past. The worst was Cedric's death. And the Dementors attacking Sirius. I would not have wanted to see the highlights of my childhood under Uncle Vernon's brutal discipline either, along with a handful of other memories.
It seemed impossible to clear my head so that I could have blocked Snape out, especially when he was breathing in my neck, sneering and insulting me when he was not attacking my mind.
Although, I managed to get some information out of him, so I reckon it wasn't a completely fruitless session. I learned that I was inside the snake's mind – the one that attacked Arthur – only because that is where Voldemort was at that time. Voldemort had possessed the snake, and because I share his thoughts and his emotions through our connection, I saw everything. Snape told me that because Voldemort now knows about our connection, it is essential for me to learn to close my mind.
The most notable matter I learned about during last night's session, was the door. The door I've been constantly dreaming about. The door through which I want to walk, but I can't. Last night, I learned the door's location. Or actually, I remembered it. It is in the end of the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, in the Ministry of Magic.
All in all, my first Occlumency session left me raw and aching, feeling rather nauseated and with a lot of mixed-up information. Then, right before I lay down in my bed last night, I experienced something…something quite unnerving. Voldemort was happy. Really happy. I could feel his delight wash over me, taking over, and it was terrifying.
It was long after midnight before I finally fell asleep, my mind filled with questions and worry. Why was Voldemort feeling so ecstatic?
"Morning," I grunt as I slip down to sit next to Hermione in the Great Hall. It is rather early, and there is only a handful of students in the Gryffindor table.
She gives me a tender smile and pours me a glass of pumpkin juice. "You're up abnormally early. How did you sleep?" She asks softly and eyes me carefully.
I stifle a great yawn. "Not enough, apparently," I grumble in reply and reach for the teapot.
Hermione frowns. "What happened? Did you see something? Did your scar hurt during the night?" She asks, and I heave a sigh.
"No. I dunno," I say with a bit of frustration and take a long swig of hot tea. I had a raging headache throughout the night, and saw a mixture of odd dreams featuring a stormy sea, fire and the door inside the Ministry. Personally, I blame Snape for leaving my mind so open and vulnerable.
Hermione purses her lips and gives me a scrutinising look. "Harry…" She says and her features soften. "I wish you'd tell me what's going on with you…" She mutters quietly, her eyes searching mine.
"What do you mean? I tell you and Ron everything," I say with a hint of defiance in my voice as I snatch a piece of toast from the platter in the middle of the table, ignoring the small twinge of guilt I feel. I haven't exactly told them everything, have I?
Hermione stays quiet and worries her lip, eyeing me unsurely.
"Oh!" She suddenly exclaims, as if remembering something. "I forgot to ask, how did it go with Cho?" She asks, and I blink at her in reply.
"What?" I ask, wondering what is she talking about.
Hermione gives me a strange look. "Cho, yesterday, in the hallway? You remember? What did you talk about?" She asks with her brows slightly lifted, a small smile playing on her lips.
And then I remember. Yesterday, I was going to tell Ron and Hermione about the Hogsmeade trip I agreed to go on with Cho, but then I skipped lunch and nearly missed my afternoon classes, and somehow it slipped my mind. "Oh, um…yeah. We're going on a date. To Hogsmeade," I say simply, and she gives me even stranger look.
"Okay? And?" She presses on, and I frown at her in confusion.
"What?" I ask, not understanding what I am missing.
The look in her eyes shifts from incredulous to perplexed and then, slowly, her eyes widen. She looks as if she's contemplating what to say.
"Oh, nothing. Although, I've been meaning to ask…" She says vaguely, glancing around us. "…About you and Regulus."
I nearly choke on the gulp of tea in my mouth. I cough loudly, my eyes watering as Hermione claps me on my back.
"You alright, mate?" Ron quips as he drops to the bench opposite to us.
I manage to clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm okay," I wheeze, and give Hermione a wary look as Ron starts to load his plate.
Her expression displays worry, but I can see a hint of something in her eyes. Something that makes me very uncomfortable.
Thankfully, her attention turns to the arriving morning post. The Great Hall is filled with whooshing noise as the hundred or so owls circle around the large room, trying to find their recipients. Hermione accepts the Daily Prophet from the delivery owl and flips the paper open with a loud shriek.
"What?!" Ron and I both exclaim with dread. Many of our classmates who have only just arrived to breakfast eye us curiously.
Hermione places the paper flat on the table with trembling hands, and everyone around us stares at the moving pictures on the front page. Ten Death Eaters, sneering from their black-and-white photographs, have escaped from Azkaban.
"Bloody hell," Ron mutters from the opposite side of the table.
I bristle when I read the headlines. The Ministry is blaming Sirius of the breakout. I wonder how my godfather has taken the news.
And now I know the reason Voldemort was beside himself with joy last night.
Hogwarts, February 17th 1996
Weeks have gone by, and it has been a big load of crap, to put it mildly. Umbridge has taken control over Hogwarts; she's lurking in the corners, supervising most of the classes where she takes notes and judges the Professors' capability to teach their subjects.
My scar is hurting constantly, and I sense Voldemort more often and more intensely in my mind than I did before the holidays. I can actually feel what he is feeling most of the time. It's appalling. It's making me nauseated, and I'm beginning to suspect that my mind opening more easily has something to do with the Occlumency lessons. I feel like I've become more vulnerable, free to outside attacks. I'm dreaming about the door every night, and I can't help it. I can't stop, whatever I try. It's exhausting. Clearing my mind at nights does nothing.
The only thing that has brought me even a sliver of happiness, are the DA meetings. Every single member in our group has advanced in defensive and offensive magic. Everyone is working hard, understanding the necessity to be able to defend oneself. The mass-breakout from Azkaban certainly only improved everyone's determination.
Today is the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, and I've promised to take Cho there, on our first date. I manage to clean up a bit, and then I head downstairs for breakfast, feeling quite nervous.
In the Great Hall, Hermione pesters me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks around midday, but she doesn't tell me why. In the end, I promise her I'll be there, hoping that Cho doesn't mind.
After breakfast, Hermione, Ron and I walk together into the Entrance Hall, where Hermione says her goodbyes to us before leaving towards Hogsmeade. Ron too leaves through the oak front doors towards Quidditch practice while I stay to wait for Cho. I feel a pang of jealousy as I stare at my friend's retreating back. I wish I could play Quidditch. I wish I could at least fly, but I can't because my broom is confiscated. Because of Umbridge.
"Hey Harry," Cho murmurs next to me, eyeing me shyly. I almost wince from surprise, but manage to give her a nervous grin instead. She looks beautiful. Should I tell her? Or would it sound too eager?
"Um…Hey. So, er…Shall we?" I say eventually, and glance at the doors.
She nods and takes my hand, guiding me outside. It feels…strange. I dunno. Good, perhaps? Her hand is warm, and her fingertips rest smoothly against my knuckles.
We continue walking along the path towards the village. Minutes go by, and I take in our surroundings, eyeing the snow toppled trees with interest as well as the students in front of us, laughing whilst throwing snow at each other.
Should I say something? Circe, this is awkward.
I'm relieved when Cho starts talking about Quidditch, and then I remember that she too plays the sport. Before I know it, our conversation flows easily, and I feel slightly ridiculous for thinking that going on a date with her would've been uncomfortable or difficult.
We eventually reach the village and browse through the shop windows for a while until it starts to snow heavily. We take refuge in a small teashop I haven't visited earlier, but instantly know I'll never set a foot in again. The place is packed, with tiny tables for two, and everything is decorated with lace and pink embellishments. I notice that in almost every table, there's a couple holding hands. I suppress a shiver of discomfort and follow Cho to one of the small round tables.
"So, er…" I mutter and glance around us.
Cho eyes me and the place with a sweet smile. "Cute, isn't it?"
It's horrible. "Yeah, um…I guess so…" I say unsurely, presuming she might be offended if I tell her how the place actually gives me the same kind of creeps as Umbridge's office does.
The matron, Madam Puddifoot, pushes past the narrow space between the small tables and stops next to ours. "What can I get you, m'dears?" She asks with a kind voice, glancing over the teashop before looking at us again.
Cho gives her a familiar smile and orders us two coffees. Does she come here a lot? And is she holding hands with her dates during coffee? I groan inwardly when I notice that Roger Davies and his date start to snog at the table next to us. I quickly look away and stare outside from the window. Merlin, I can hear the smacking sounds their lips make. The air feels a bit suffocating, and I realise my face is heating up.
"So…Umbridge's a bitch," Cho says and god, I could just hug her for bringing up a subject I can grab onto and ignore the unpleasant sounds Davies and his girlfriend make.
I grin at her. "She's one of a kind. I wonder if she's secretly a Squib, you know?" I say with a hint of amusement.
Cho nods eagerly. "Yeah, probably. Would explain how she never wants us to use magic. Because she couldn't then control us," she says thoughtfully.
We trade a couple more spiteful thoughts about our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor before we fall into silence. The subject is thoroughly covered in our DA meetings after all.
I try to ignore the activities occurring at the next table and suddenly remember that Hermione requested me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks. "Um…Hermione asked me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks at lunchtime. Do you want to come with me?"
Cho gives me a disbelieving look. "You're meeting Hermione Granger? Today?"
I frown at her. "Yeah. Well, she asked me to, so I thought I would. D'you want to come with me? She said it wouldn't matter if you did."
Cho narrows her eyes at me. "Oh…well…that was nice of her," she says, her voice as chilling as the look in her eyes.
Another silence between us, and Cho seems to be more interested in looking at Roger Davies and his date than hers.
"He asked me out, you know," she says quietly, not looking at me. "A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though."
I lift my brows at her, feeling confused. Why is she here with me then, if she'd rather be with Davies?
"I came in here with Cedric last year," Cho says, looking through the window with a wistful expression.
She has got to be kidding me. She's bringing up Cedric? Now? On our date?
Cho takes in a stuttering breath. "I've been meaning to ask you for ages…did Cedric…did he, um…mention me at all before he died?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I stare into her eyes, which are brimming up with tears. I swallow hard. I can't talk about it. About him. Even her bringing him up like this makes me almost see the flash of green, the high voice of Voldemort when he ordered Wormtail to…No. I can't. I can't think about it.
I look away. "No. There…there wasn't time for him to say anything," I say tightly. "Erm…so…d'you…d'you get to see a lot of Quidditch in the holidays? You support the Tornados, right?" I ask, trying to change the subject before neither of us breaks down.
Too late. She's already crying silently. I suppress a weary sigh. "Look," I say hesitantly, "Let's not talk about Cedric right now…let's talk about something else, yeah?"
Cho's eyes turn cold. "I thought you'd understand!" She snaps, her tears now flowing more freely. "I need to talk about it! Surely you n-need to talk about it t-too!" She says loudly, her voice stuttering. "I mean, you saw it happen, d-didn't you?"
Shit. Everyone is watching us. Everyone probably knows of whom she is talking about.
A shiver of discomfort trails down my spine. "Well…I have talked about it," I say quietly to her, "to Ron and Hermione, but –"
She lets out a shriek of outrage. "Oh, you'll talk to Hermione Granger!" She says angrily, looking very much insulted. "But you won't talk to me! P-perhaps it would be best if we just…just p-paid and you went and met up with Hermione G-Granger, like you obviously want to!" She says with a trembling voice, her face now wet with tears.
My mind whirls in panic as I try to find the right words, as I try to figure out what did I do wrong. "Um…Cho?" I manage to say, but she shakes her head, brushing her tears away.
"You should go, Harry," she says with a sniff. "I don't know why you asked me out in the first place if you're going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me. How many are you meeting after Hermione?" She asks coldly, her previously soft lips turned into a frown.
I stare at her in disbelief. "It's not like that!" I say, and then realise that she's hurt because I had arranged a meeting with Hermione even though I'm on a date with her. She thinks that I'm seeing other girls as well, and the thought is so ridiculous that a chuckle escapes my mouth.
Oh no. I groan inwardly as she stands up quickly, a deep scowl in her eyes.
"I'll see you around, Harry," she says harshly before rushing towards the door, away from the horrible teashop, away from me. I try to call after her but there's no use. She's already gone.
Brilliant. With a great sigh, I put a Galleon on the table and follow her out to the main street, ignoring the dirty looks most of the people are sending towards me.
It's still snowing hard, and the streets are empty. A mix of confusion, annoyance and relief fill me as I mentally go over the past hour, trying to figure out what went wrong. Why did she mention Davies? And why in Merlin did she have to bring up Cedric? Did she honestly think that we could discuss Cedric's death over a nice cup of coffee? What was she thinking?
With an audible growl, I make my way towards the Three Broomsticks, hoping Hermione will be there already since I'm rather sure I'm early. As I step inside the pub, I stumble onto Hagrid, who is heading out. We exchange a couple of words and after Hagrid leaves, I finally find Hermione. She's with Luna Lovegood and…Rita Skeeter, an ex-journalist who wrote a bunch of utter shite about me in the Daily Prophet last year.
What the hell is Hermione doing with her?
Hermione explains everything to me, and it turns out that she wants Skeeter to interview me. She wants me to tell Skeeter everything that happened in the beginning of last summer, when Cedric died, when Voldemort was resurrected. Every last detail. And Luna's father will publish the story in his magazine, the Quibbler. The whole idea is as horrifying as it is thrilling.
So, I go ahead and tell Skeeter everything.
Grimmauld Place, February 26th 1996
I'm slowly waking up, and I can feel the sun warming my face through the window. Who the fuck opened the curtains? Then my neck tingles, and my insides warm pleasantly. Something smooths down my chest, over my ribcage, brushing my hipbone. Fuck, it feels so good.
"Mmm…" I hum sleepily, enjoying the soft touches and…lips against my neck?
The said lips suck the skin below my jaw, and I actually let out a gasp while all the blood in my body rushes downwards. Right to my prick.
"W-What?" I mumble and blink, squinting at the other person supposedly sharing my bed.
A jet-black hair, unkempt and unruly. Impossibly green eyes.
I wake up with a jolt to a loud banging on my door.
"Oi! REGGIE!"
What the hell? I jump up from my bed, my legs tangling in my sheets, and eventually land on the floor with a thud and a muffled groan. It takes me a moment to realise where I am, and who's howling behind the door. The room is dark, but I can see the sun shining brightly from the small gap between the heavy curtains. What time is it?
"Sirius?" I grunt as I stand up and throw the sheets back to the bed. To my empty bed. Like it should be.
I shake my head and drag myself to the door and open it, blinking as the sharp light from the landing hits my eyes.
"Just came to see if you're still alive, brother, given that you usually wake up a couple of hours before me, at least," My brother says lightly and gives me a once over. Suddenly his expression shifts into a sly amusement.
Supposedly, he's taken notice of the strain in my pants. I roll my eyes at him. "Did you have something to say or did you come here to gape at my dick?" I ask with irritation, shifting slightly behind the door.
Sirius barks a laugh. "I'm clearly interrupting something," He says cheerfully. "Have at it, then. Breakfast awaits downstairs."
"I'm not – " I start but he cuts me off.
"No, no…you go ahead and finish and we'll talk later," My brother says with a teasing wink and turns to head downstairs, chuckling as he goes.
"Dickhead," I mutter at his back.
Sirius turns to look at me with a gleeful smile. "Says the wanker."
I groan and turn back into my room, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, and hear my brother laughing mercilessly in the stairs.
I don't know what surprises me more; that I'm not having nightmares because of the locket or that I'm dreaming about Potter instead.
"What are you two reading?" I ask from my brother and Lupin as I enter the kitchen half an hour later, freshly showered and well-dressed. Both men are hunching over a magazine that is propped up against the teapot, staring its pages intently while sipping coffee and tea from their cups.
"What the fuck is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" I ask as I squint at the back cover of the rag. A familiar pair of green eyes blink back at me behind the teapot. His face is taking a whole page.
Fuck. Images from my last night's dream surge to the forefront of my mind. My ears are drumming, and I press my eyes shut for a second, trying to clear my mind. As I open them, I notice Lupin eyeing me with a contemplative look.
"Good morning, Regulus," Lupin greets me kindly.
I grunt in reply and move towards the table to sit down opposite to them.
Sirius glances at me, a smirk playing on his lips, evidently the earlier encounter still fresh in his mind. "Dunno what's a Snorkack, but that's not what we're reading about," he says and glances at the paper. "It's – "
"Potter," I say hoarsely, and both my brother and Lupin give me strange look. I clear my throat. "Potter, I presume?" I ask, managing a neutral tone.
My brother shoves a sausage into his mouth and swallows after a couple of chews. "Yeah. Harry's made an interview with Skeeter…" He says, and I'm mildly interested.
"About?" I ask, aiming for nonchalance.
Kreacher emerges then from the pantry, a look of delight on its face. The elf snaps its fingers and an assortment of breakfast items appear in front of me. I thank my elf, taking note how it seems more happier, healthier now than it did when I came here nearly seven months ago.
"See for yourself," Sirius says and throws the rag in front of me.
I glance at the cover, at his face. Potter is grinning shyly back, and I have to tear my eyes from his face before my brother and Lupin start suspecting anything. The headline says he's telling the truth about the Dark Lord and the night of his resurrection.
Well, now I'm intrigued.
I flip the correct page open, and start reading. I vaguely notice my brother and Lupin leaving the kitchen on some point, but I don't bother glancing up.
Grimmauld Place, March 2nd 1996
Another Order meeting. Another hour or so about Death Eater sightings, Ministry news, and it all seems to be the same. Nothing's happening, but still something is. The Order has finally decided that I'm trustworthy and they tell me what exactly are they guarding at the Ministry. A prophecy. A prophecy about Potter and the Dark Lord, about their fates. I'm told that no one knows what it says, but I doubt it. Prophecies are often made to someone, and it seems foolish to put so much effort on something they are not sure about, not when the Order is already short of operatives.
Severus lingers in the kitchen after the meeting, and I already know it by the look in his expressionless black eyes. He's seen something. I didn't have a doubt, really, since I didn't expect Potter to be any resistance to him.
After everyone else leaves, I flick my wand to the door to cast some privacy spells and turn calmly towards him.
Severus's lips turn into a sly smirk. "You are full of surprises, Regulus," He drawls and takes a seat at the table.
I roll my eyes, refusing to be ashamed. Nothing has happened. "Well? Say what you wanted to say about it," I say blankly, not showing any emotion to him as I sit down opposite to him.
Severus lets out a dry chuckle. "Potter...Really?" He asks with a mocking voice, his eyes shining with glee.
I arch a brow at him. "I seem to remember someone coveting his mother," I say dryly. I'm not really coveting Potter, am I? I realise my mistake when Severus's smirk widens.
Fuck.
Although, I should be glad that the only memories he has been able to rifle through are Potter's. Sure, he has seen many things in my mind, but every single one has been something that I intended for him to see.
He shrugs, eyeing me with a triumphant look. "At least we were the same age. And she wasn't as useless as her husband or son," he says with slight contempt.
I shake my head in disbelief. "You truly ought to get over it, Sev…" I mutter, and he sends me a glare in reply.
"You should keep your distance to the boy," He says darkly, a hint of sneer on his face.
I arch a brow at him. "And why is that?" I say plainly, not bothering to point out that his statement is irrelevant. I haven't seen the boy after he returned to Hogwarts.
Severus's lips twitch slightly with amusement. "Don't play stupid with me, Black. We both know the boy is dangerous," He says slowly. "The connection to the Dark Lord is stronger, I have felt it," He says, his dark eyes unreadable. "By socialising with Potter, you take the risk of exposing your existence."
"Oh? Didn't know you cared, Sev," I say with a provoking smile.
He narrows his eyes at me. "I don't. Because I'm not as ignorant and moronic as your brother and his imbecile friends, and I advise you refrain to be so as well," He says harshly and stands up to leave.
I stare at him silently before I speak. "Perhaps they know something we don't," I say quietly, and we both know what I am talking about. Sev and I have always lived by guarding our hearts. Numbing the feelings of affection, closing ourselves from others. That is the only way to be a Death Eater.
"Trust me, they don't." Severus says tightly. "It is a weakness neither of us wishes," He says with a grim look and leaves the room.