Poison Pen

Chapter 11: The Point Being?

Harry put down his copy of the Quibbler. Change was slow in coming, but from the increasing numbers of letters to the editor questioning everything from the quality of education to the lack of a trial for Sirius Black, it was creeping in. Granted the pace wasn't as fast as he would have liked, but it was there. The Prophet no longer sought to destroy his reputation since the switch to 'new' management. It was a relief. At least he wasn't being called an attention getting brat anymore.

There had been no sign of old snake face since last spring. It seemed he was keeping quiet, trying to convince everyone the Ministry was right in denying his return. Well, there was nothing Harry could do about that and truth be told, Harry welcomed the peace. As far as he was concerned, Voldie could lay even lower...like six feet lower in fact.

Sirius was away again on some useless mission for Dumbledore. Harry figured that the old coot was deliberately keeping them apart. It wouldn't do to have Sirius close by, Merlin forbid, the man might just pursue the matter of his innocence or worse, try for custody. Harry rubbed a hand through his messy hair. How he hated waiting, and he'd heard nothing from Lord Peter on this matter in a while.

A heavy sigh crossed his lips. It seemed that the quieter Voldemort was, the less peaceful Harry's sleep. Lately there were dreams about a long corridor with a lot of doors. Harry looked it up in his divination books and didn't like the interpretations he found there.

One interpretation was the hallway was a new opportunity and could signal spiritual enlightenment. 'Huh!' he huffed mentally. 'A new path? Oh right, I wonder where it leads and just what, or who, I'll find at its end! Wonder if it forks? I have a senile, meddling old coot at one end that thinks of nothing but running my life and a megalomaniac trying his best to end said life. Some pathway.'

'Somehow,' he mused, 'I don't think that's what these dreams mean. Oh well.' Harry looked at the time and groaned. If he hurried he had just enough time to get to Snape's office for his first Occlumency lesson, or as Dumbledore refers to it, his 'remedial potions' lesson. He wasn't looking forward to his time with the greasy git and just had a feeling these lessons were doomed to failure from the get-go.

Harry stood, shouldering his book bag and began his weary way to the dungeons. He flinched when he heard a familiar voice call out behind him.

"Oi mate! There you are. I been lookin' for you." Ron's grating cheerfulness washed over Harry as he turned to respond to his friend.

"Hello Ron, sorry I can't stop to natter. Got to get to my remedial potions," Harry explained with disgust. "But, if you want to join me...?"

"S'ok mate. Wouldn't want to get in your way!" Ron replied with a shudder. "Guess I'll leave you to it then. See you later in the common room?"

Harry's only answer was a brief wave over his shoulder as he disappeared down the stairs. 'Hmmm, maybe Snape does have his uses,' he thought.

~~

Later that night, Harry begged off the chess game that Ron tried to coax him to play, claiming a screaming headache. He retired to their dorm room, jumped into bed, pulled his curtains and sealed them with privacy spells. Then he drew out parchment and ink and set to work with a shaking hand.

"Dear Lord Peter,

I am happy to say I will be able to attend the meeting you have set up before the Winter hols. I look forward to finally being free of Dumbledore's manipulations.

Currently he is forcing me to take Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. Please understand, if I were actually getting lessons in the mind arts, I would not be upset. However, I am not.