The Child of the Seventh Month

11. The Dark Mark

After January comes February, then March, April, May, June, and before one notices half a year escapes. 

During the rapidly changing months, Harry immersed himself in the wizarding culture - he was no longer the clueless child brought up in a cage who had reluctantly arrived at Hogwarts in September. He knew something about the world now, as little as it was, and felt much older and wiser thanks to it.

The Dark Lord's case, Lord Voldemort's, was one of the matters he couldn't yet understand - having Hermione Granger, a bright muggleborn, as his companion, he was unable to comprehend the pureblood supremacy his Lord was so keen on preaching about. It was all confusing, but Harry decided to let that slide for now and ask the Lord about it when he saw him again in summer.

His other problem was the matter of Hogwarts and the Order. With all the mysteries and secrets, Harry didn't know what he could believe. His loyalty was with the Dark Lord, but he often found himself studying Dumbledore during the meals in the Great Hall, just as the headmaster used to study him once. After speaking to and seeing him up-close, he didn't appear so scary to Harry anymore.

As for the mirror of Erised, it was moved somewhere else as Dumbledore had said it would be. Harry was disappointed to find it gone but didn't look for it in fear of stumbling upon the headmaster again. Even if they hadn't spoken much, Dumbledore's words had taken root somewhere inside his brain, poisoning his mind. Worst of all, Harry found it difficult to hate the man as much as he had before.

Yet, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more sinister hidden underneath the old, gentle and wise-man look Dumbledore put on. He might have been playing the good guy, the hero, but the world was no fairytale, and people were not what they seemed to be. What reason was he fighting his Lord for, if not for power and influence? What reason did the Lord have for his fear of the elderly man?

Harry remembered his words and warnings back in December, and then the man's cold eyes staring straight into his soul. No, it was not his place to judge him. He wasn't smart enough to see through everything. He needed to trust the Lord's word first and foremost. All in all, the two sides didn't seem completely black or white - there was always a grey shadow creeping in between.

What Harry didn't take notice of was the fact that he was slowly changing. The boy who once wore his emotions and thoughts on his sleeve had now learned to conceal his feelings and play the role of a spectator. Instead of blindly trusting or being cautious against something or someone, he started analyzing the situation, the people, their characters and goals, and the motives behind their every move and word. This was the most important change, one he didn't pay attention to or realize.

Speaking of change, sadly, Neville hadn't switched his attitude towards his grandmother. While strongly disapproving, Harry pretended not to notice the owls landing at the Gryffindor table every other week. If the boy wanted to continue writing to this woman, then there was nothing Harry could do, apart from warning him repeatedly. But Neville had grown stubborn, and no longer listened to Harry's advice.

Meanwhile, Harry's studies progressed splendidly. The Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transmutation classes were ones he enjoyed, but he wasn't perfectly happy with his Potions grade. The teacher - Professor Snape - wasn't fond of him either, and nowadays often ignored his presence altogether. Still, Harry's dedication had paid off - he was second after Hermione in his year.

In June, just before getting his results, Harry was beyond excited. Not because of school, but because every day brought him closer to coming home. He counted the days that remained till summer, and his anticipation grew with each passing week. He couldn't wait to be back home, and to see his Lord again, hear his voice, feel his touch... It had been almost a year, and Harry had missed his Lord terribly. The glimpses he had caught of him in January had only made his longing more painful –and watching Neville write back and forth to his grandmother, no matter how much of Dumbledore's farce it all was, had made him feel even more lonely. No owl had ever brought him any news from back home.