Year 5.9

9.8K 445 89
                                    

Hey, so I'm already working on the next chapter, so it should be up within a couple weeks. But for now, you have this



Harry, Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron sat at the table, not speaking as they drank butterbeer. Even Harry, who had never quite liked the sweetness of the drink, was taking small sips.

A burst of fire illuminated the room and a scroll of parchment appeared on the table. George read it aloud.

"Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."

Harry avoided Fred's gaze. He couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Weasley died he would blame himself. It had felt so real... he had wanted to hurt Mr. Weasley... felt pleasure as he sank his fangs into his skin...

As time passed, Sirius halfheartedly suggested they all get some sleep. No one moved. But pretty soon, they were all drooping. Fred fell into a doze, his head resting on Harry's shoulder. Ginny curled up in her chair, but her eyes were still open. Harry couldn't tell if Ron and George were still awake; their eyes were hidden from view.

It was ten past five when Mrs. Weasley arrived. Harry jumped to his feet, momentarily forgetting Fred had been lying against him. Luckily, Fred had raised his head at the same time and avoided falling over.

"He's going to be all right," Mrs. Weasley said. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work."

Harry closed his eyes. He was okay. Everyone was okay. But guilt continued to churn in his stomach long after he went to bed.





"The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him—"

Harry snatched up the Extendable Ear, heart hammering in his chest. Voldemort possessing him? But that was impossible. Right? He turned to Ginny. "When Voldemort possessed you, how did it feel?"

Ginny blinked, looking startled. Then her eyes cleared. "Strange. There were several moments I couldn't remember what I was doing or how I got there. But I take it that's not the case with you?"

"No. Which means it can't be possession," Harry concluded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "But it still doesn't explain how I saw all that."

He was still wondering about this all the way up to Christmas, but neither Sirius nor Remus had an answer when he asked.



On the last day of the holidays, Harry was told Professor Snape was waiting for him. He headed out to the kitchen.

Sirius was there as well, and he had his feet propped up on the table in front of Snape, who already looked exasperated at being in his presence.

"Hi," Harry said.

"Harry." Snape looked faintly relieved. He pushed away Sirius' foot, which had been raised very close to his nose. "This is why I prefer Lupin."

"Doesn't everyone prefer him?" Harry said.

Sirius merely shrugged in agreement.

"Anyway, Professor Snape, what do you need?" Harry asked.

"The headmaster has sent me to tell you that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"Occlumency," Harry repeated. "Isn't that the mind arts? Why do I have to study Occlumency?"

"Because the headmaster thinks it a good idea," said Snape. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing."

Eagle's Flight // FrarryWhere stories live. Discover now