Harry Potter and the Eye of Knowledge
A/N: ahh how terrifying it is to write HP FF. Please enjoy.
Reviewers: THANK YOU. In future I'll give indvidual thank you's but for now thank you very much for reviewing!
Chapter one: OWL'ing
'Ancestral voices prophesying war...'
The early morning sunshine was watery and weak, unusually so for late June but Harry couldn't have cared less if there was full blown snow storm raging outside. Hedwig hooted mournfully at him from her cage atop his closet. Slowly he got out of bed and dressed before releasing her from her cage. With a frenzy of white wings and an excited twitter she disappeared outside his window. Slowly he turned away and made his way downstairs. In the kitchen the atmosphere was just as icy as any snowstorm.
Somehow Dudley hadmanaged to gain even more muscular weight during the School Terms, even though he was on a strict diet to keep him in his preffered 'class' for boxing. And he hadbeen so angry after losing a boxing match that he had broken several chairs at Smeltings school, resulting in a stern letter from the school principal to Uncle Vernon and another frm the school nurse to Aunt Petunia. So once again the Smeltings school nurse's diet plan was taped to the fridge and on this particular morning slices of watermelon were being served to the family at large.
Harry sat down and looked glumly down at his piece of watermelon. It was more like a sliver than a quarter, and Harry could see who had benefited from his tiny piece. Dudley's was more like half a watermelon than a quarter. But even this unfairness didn't bother him this summer.
He just felt numb. And personally he felt better being numb than the raging anger he had felt for so much of the year before.
He ate his quarter without much thought or care, his eyes fixed out the window over his cousins left shoulder.
He stared as an Owl approached flew over the opposing house's roof and approached the window. His insides seemed to have gone hollow and ice seemed to be rapidly replacing them. The owl pecked impatiently at the window, as though in a hurry t be off.
In a sort of daze Harry walked over and released the latch, barely registering his Aunt and Uncle's cries of horror and dislike. Instantly the Owl flew inside, he was a handsome brown barn owl with a fierce face. He landed on the breakfast table, much to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's horror, by the time Harry had returned to the table Dudley was waddling out the doorway, his hands firmly clutching his bottom, as though he feared that Hagrid might appear at any moment. Aunt Petunia was leaning as far back from the table as she possibly could, though he noticed she didn't seem afraid or particularly horrified but rather apprehensive.
It struck him that she may knew what this particular letter contained, her sister, and consequently his mother must surely have been apprehensive about her OWL's just as Harry was about his. He paused before taking the letter from the proffered leg. The envelope was addressed to him in the usual neat writing though the letter seemed rather unusually fat. The Owl hooted rather self-importantly and puffed its self up slightly before disappearing with a whooshing of wings.
Harry continued to look down at the letter curiously, he didn't particularly feel like opening the letter here and now, but neither did he want to g to his room, because after all once there he would have to open it.
'Well boy?' barked uncle Vernon savagely as Harry continued to stare at his letter. He looked up, slightly surprised to find himself looking at his purple faced Uncle. He took a Glance at his Uncle's mottled face and angry glare and decided he should probably leave sooner rather than later.
With a glance at Aunt Petunia who was staring at the letter in his hands he began slowly to walk out of the room, leaving his fuming Uncle behind. Slowly he walked upstairs, he paused at the top still looking at his letter quizzically, he was aware his hands and face were sweating such was his apprehension.
He sat down on his bed sort of mechanically. Still staring as though uncomprehending at his letter. Slowly he began to open it but stopped. He didn't want to pen it, if he opened it he would know what he had gotten for his OWL's and in this case he was firmly of the opinion that not knowing was far better than knowing.
Yet still he found himself opening the envelope and pulling the parchment out.
Dear Mr Potter,
The new school year will begin on September the second, the Hogwarts train will leave King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock.
Enclosed are your OWL results, a list of possible subjects based on your results and your book list for the coming year.
Professor M. McGonagall
With a not inconsiderable amount of trepidation and rather shaking fingers Harry placed the top piece of parchment beside him on the bed. He looked back down at the OWL paper. It was embossed with an intricate gold frame and the words were beautifully written in green ink.
Ordinary Wizarding Levels
Harry James Potter
Care of Magical Creatures- Outstanding
Defense Against the Dark Arts- Outstanding
Herbology- Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic- Poor
Tranfiguration- Exceeds Expectations
Harry sighed in relief. He re-read his results several times, seven OWL's was far from bad, he knew that he had done perhaps slightly better in Charms and Tranfiguaration than he had expected, but that was alright. Not to mention the two fails were a long time in coming. He almost laughed at the thought of not receiving a 'Troll', for the first time in weeks perhaps months he began to laugh, it seemed a strange thing too hear in his tiny bedroom, but there it was.
He put down his results to look at the next piece of paper, it was another piece of Professor McGonagal's writing.
According to your OWL results you are able to take the following subjects:
Care of Magical Creatures
Defense Against the Dark Arts
Harry did a double take, he'd thought Snape only allowed those with 'Outstanding' to enter his NEWT potion class. Shaking off his amazement he moved on and read the rest of his letter.-Due to your chosen career path you are advised to take all of the above classes. Please inform me by return owl as to your choices. Though I do stress that you should take all the above classes.
Harry quickly grabbed a piece of parchment from his trunk as well as a quill and ink bottle. He looked over the letter once more and frowned. As much as he detested Potions and the Potions master he remembered McGonagal's advice from the year before, and her impassioned statement that he would become an Auror and she would do all that was within her power to help him. He guessed his being allowed into Snape's class was a direct result of this. With that in mind he scribbled a quick note for Professor McGonagal.
I will be doing as you advise and will take all the subjects being offered to me.
Harry PotterThat done he took another piece of Parchment and penned two quick notes to Ron and Hermione telling them he'd gotten his results and adding he thought he'd done alright and inquiring after their results. He didn't tell Hermione he had received a D for divination and hoped she would just assume he had gotten a P.
He put the letters together in a small stack and pulled out his list of spellbooks. He glanced over the titles.
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, by Miranda Goshawk
Defense and the Dark Arts, by Wilbert Martosh
Magical Beasts, by Martich Griff
Advanced Transfigaration, Tempera Trantion
Magical Plants and their Properties, Matichi Verdi
Potions of Importance, by Magda MigeliSuddenly he realised that Hedwig was back, she was sitting on the ledge of his window, he smiled and stood. He reached out his arm, his bird fluttered over onto his arm, nipping at his ear affectionately. He took her over to the desk and gave her the three letters.
'The Professor, Ron and Hermione.' He told her quietly, Hedwig gave him a soft hoot and gave him a look that suggested he should know better than that. He then took her over to the window, she slipped out the window and away into the gloomy morning. It seemed the sun had disappeared and a storm was coming in from the north.
Rain now fell in a constant torrent against Harry's window as true night fell.
It matched his mood as he simply lay there, his eyes looking at the ceiling in a dim state of unawareness as he replayed the events of weeks before again and again. His Godfathers smiling face, the veil, Sirius' smiling face, falling backwards...
A soft knock startled him upright. He quickly wiped away the tears that had gathered in his eyes and straightened his glasses as the door opened slowly. His aunt's pursed face appeared around the corner.
'Harry?' her voice quavered as her sharp eyes flickered over his tear stained face. She took a miniscule step into the room. She had been doing this more and more frequently over the holidays. Slipping into his room, bringing him food, making him eat. 'Dinner's served Harry.' She told him, with the slightest hint of an encouraging smile before turning away, leaving him alone once more. He felt just the tiniest uplifting at the thought she now treated him as a nephew rather than a slave, but not even her new way of treating him could stop his downward spiral over the holidays.
He had often over the last few weeks wondered why she had changed, what could have caused her change of heart. He had decided ultimately that whatever the reason, and he personally couldn't fathom one, it was obviously private, as neither Dudley or Uncle Vernon knew of her change of heart and in front of them she had not changed a bit.
Harry looked up at the closed door she had left behind and swallowed. He looked around the room as though he could find the strength to leave his room. He could almost if he tried hard think it was last year, last summer, before the terrible events of the last school year. He shivered.
The constant sound of rain interrupted his dream and it vanished like smoke in a strong wind. Outside the wind howled violently. It sounded like a dg crying out in anguish. He turned away, fleeing through his door and downstairs, he leaned against the wall in the corridor outside the kitchen, his heart pounding and tears managing to leak from his sore, itchy eyes. And no matter how hard he tried he could not stop the shaking that plagued him through dinner and even as he lay in bed that night, with the wind howling sadly past his window.
Carefully he concentrated on clearing his mind, until he had emptied it of thoughts. He was calm, and the world seemed to fade as he slowly drifted away into sleep, carefully he put his glasses n the side table. Then as he lay back onto the harsh pillow he drifted off into the blackness.
Slowly the darkness began to draw back, the terrible images that had burnt so clear -the screams of pain and pools of blood, the lifeless eyes, and eyes far too alive- faded back and hid once more in the locked box where she kept those memories.
The memories that woke her in the night. She shook her head slightly, as though to ward off those images as she opened her eyes. The vauleted ceiling above her was elaborate and hung with chandelier's laden with candle's that burned brightly. Too brightly. She blinked away her dizziness until the light did not pierce so painfully, all the while struggling to remember... Cold and screaming... Dementors. She had been caught by the Dementors!
But she also remembered faces above her, faces she knew. She trusted. She pulled herself upwards on the opulent red lounge she had been laid out upon, an equally luxurious ruilt had been wrapped around her, she shrugged off the fringed velvet and blinked dizzily at her surroundings. Around her the walls were hung with many witches and Wizards, all ancient and many snoozing in their frames.
'Amba?' a soft voice called. She stood to face he who had spoken and found the room swaying before her eyes. Slowly she sat back down, her eyes not straying from the tall and elderly figure who watched her steadily from over his half-moon spectacles. He slowly came down the stone staircase, his blue eyes appraising her thoughtfully. She held her head up firmly, proudly, refusing to allow her weakness to show.
'You seem very pale still, perhaps you should have some more chocolate.' He motioned at the plate upon the table before him. She looked down in surprise at pieces of Honeyduke's famous chocolate. She could have sworn neither table nor plate nor chocolate had been there only moments before. Never the less she reached out to take some of the chocolate and paused. Her hand was shaking, it was shaking violently, as though taken by some spasm. She reached further and took up a piece of chocolate, forcing her hand to steady she bit into the chocolate and was swiftly rewarded by waves of tingling warmth spreading throughout her body.
When she felt able she stood again and faced Dumbledore. He sat behind his desk, eyes watching her still. She walked over towards him slowly.
'Sir.' She said politely with a small bow, he nodded and motioned with ne hand for her to sit in one of the armchair's before his desk. She sat there and relaxed momentarily.
'We have your OWL results if you wish to see them.' He said quietly. Amba smiled for the first time in days.
'No, but thank you.' She whispered softly. He watched a moment longer his gaze cryptic.
'I am-' he began but broke off. 'sorry.' He added finally. She shook her head as the smile slipped away.
'It is what it is, we can't change that.' The words were just as soft.
'Everything has been arranged, you may go down now.' She nodded and stood, as she walked slowly out the door Dumbledore felt a great weight seem to settle in his stomach, a terrible premonition as her dark hair disappeared out the door. Only once she was gone did Dumbledore lower his weary face into his hands. He was too worn and tired to follow after her. Too afraid of all that might happen.
To be continued....