Unlikely Beginnings

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Chapter Twenty Five

Harry had made it down to the main floor, just near the Great Hall before he
heard the bell ring, meaning the end of the class. Harry sighed, feeling
much better after having stopped and had a drink. He did find a bathroom,
did some business there, and went on his way. He was glad not to have to go
back to class, and he turned around when the bell sounded, and headed back
up the stairs to go back to Gryffindor Tower.

\"Harry!\"

He turned around, by now back on the second floor, and saw Hermione jogging
to catch up with him, Ron walking quickly behind her, carrying a pile of
books and Harry\'s bag. \"Hi,\" he said, and when Ron caught up, he took his
bag from the pile and slung it over his shoulder.

\"Hi?\" Hermione questioned, wondering if Harry was alright. \"Are you okay?
You never made it back to class.\"

\"Yeah, I\'m fine, just got a bit sick. Too much going on, it sort of twisted
my stomach up, I guess.\" He shrugged, and Hermione looked sympathetic. She
knew he was going through a lot, more than she could sometimes fathom, and
supposed that she did take all that he had to do for granted, thinking he
just took it in stride with no after effects. Draco wasn\'t making things any
better, but that was Harry\'s decision.

\"You look a bit pale,\" Ron said, hoping Harry wasn\'t still going to be sick,
as he quite looked like it, in Ron\'s opinion. They didn\'t need to go find a
house elf to clean up puke from their dorms, or the carpet in the common
room, for that matter. There had been a very nasty incident with some of
Fred and George\'s Puking Pastille\'s; the Tower smelled like rotten cabbage
for a week. \"Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey,\" he said. Better in
there than in the dorms, he thought.

Hermione nodded her agreement, but she didn\'t want to pry. Harry didn\'t look
very well, but he could just need some sleep, or for a load of his stress to
be eliminated. She\'d take some of it herself in a second, but she wasn\'t
sure she could handle it. Her extra classes in Third Year were one thing,
but she honestly had no idea what Harry did when he was gone with training
cited as his excuse.

\"Yeah, good idea,\" Harry said, rubbing his hair up off his forehead. It was
a bit damp, but that could have been from the five sets of stairs he\'d
trekked up and down. \"I\'ll get something to settle my stomach, and I\'ll come
back to the Tower, unless she straps me down to a bed.\" Ron grinned and
Hermione tried not to, though didn\'t quite manage. Madam Pomfrey was one of
the best nurses in England, and she deserved respect, but maybe that was
what had made her so snitty and bossy in the first place.

Harry turned down another hall when they came to it, and waved his friends
off, who were giving him strange looks, though he was too far away by now to
hear if they tried yelling something at him. The surrounding students were
making too much noise, and Hermione sighed, shaking her head. \"What on earth
is he doing?\" she asked Ron; the infirmary was in the opposite direction he
was going.

\"Well, it is Harry, and you know he\'s got a million short cuts around the
castle. Maybe there\'s one down there, instead of walking all the way to the
west wing.\" He nudged her with his pile of his and Harry\'s books, and one of
her\'s, and she started walking again, back to the common room. When Harry
got to the end of the corridor he\'d turned down, he frowned. Had he gone the
wrong way? It didn\'t have the slowly growing sterile feeling (and smell) as
it usually did when one was on their way to the hospital wing.

Harry held onto the strap over his shoulder, other hand in his pocket, and
he turned down another hallway, the one that looked a lighter color than the
other. It had seemed like a nice orange glow from the sunset through the
windows, but it wasn\'t. It was a torch lit hall with no windows at all, just
the glow from the fire in the sconces, reflecting on the surface of a large
golden statue of a griffin, set in an alcove in the wall.

Frowning at it for a moment, Harry remembered that it was the doorway to the
Headmaster\'s chambers. Suddenly, the statue began to rotate on its base, and
Harry looked around quickly, trying to find somewhere to hide. There was
another statue of the four founders about three meters away from him, and he
just made it behind the sculpture before he saw a swirl of deep green robes,
watching as Professor McGonagall stepped from the alcove and made her way
dowe hae hall in the other direction as Harry was hiding.

Quickly, Harry ran to the griffin, and jumped up onto the spiral stair case
before it stopped moving, hidden from view until the password was spoken.
Right, the password, Harry thought. He\'d forgotten that he probably knew it,
and simply just snuck his way into this passage anyway. Well, at least he
was good at one thing. When the stairs stopped turning, he stepped from them
and they started up again, twisting until the griffin stood facing him, and
Harry wondered how it managed to sit here, facing him, when it had sat
facing him when he was in the hall way beneath the stairs.

Odd, he thought, but put that out of his mind, excusing it as simply a trick
stair case, that really wasn\'t elevated at all, but just a charm to make it
seem that way. Harry shook his head, completely not understanding the
mechanics, and it didn\'t seem like he would unless he sat and stared and
thought for a while, but that really wasn\'t what he wanted to do. While he
was here anyway, he might as well ask.

He had wanted to speak to the Headmaster, and now that he found himself
here, though, he almost didn\'t want to. He hadn\'t had any training results
from various teachers to give to Dumbledore, so he hadn\'t been in the man\'s
office for a while. He started towards the door to said office, but stopped,
frowning as his hand was poised to knock on the door. How did he manage to
find himself here? Wasn\'t he supposed to be in Charms?

Nevermind his destination was no where near his current location, Harry
knocked. It was a moment before the door creaked open of its own accord, and
Harry stepped inside, closing it behind himself. Dumbledore was sitting at
his desk, a few books open, and a long quill, suspiciously looking as if it
was recently plucked out of Fawkes\' tail, in his hand as he marked various
things down on a blank page of the book. Harry walked up to the desk, and
looked down at the page. It was still blank, despite the quill clearly being
inked, and Dumbledore\'s continued additions to the page.

With a flourish, Dumbledore seemed to place a period at the end of the page,
and set his quill down. \"Invisible to all but who wish not to view them for
unjust purposes, Harry,\" the old wizard explained, closing the book with the
blank pages. It was a huge book, filled with many pages, and Harry saw on
the spine \'Hogwarts Student Records Vol. 824\'. \"Now,\" Dumbledore said,
pushing the book to the side and recapping his ink bottle. \"How can I help
you, Harry?\"

Harry sat down in a chair in front of the Headmaster\'s desk, pulling his bag
from his shoulder and setting it on the floor beside him. He looked to
Dumbledore, who was peering at Harry over his half moon spectacles, fingers
laced as he sat his hands on top of the desk. \"Sir, s wos wondering if you
could tell me where Professor Snape went?\"

\"Severus\' current location is of no immediate concern to your studies,
Harry,\" Dumbledore said calmly, though not sounding condescending. \"Why
would you wish to know such a thing?\"

\"It\'s important that I speak to him about... something,\" Harry said, unable
to think of a better way to say... something. Why did he want to talk to
Snape? He was ready to throw a small tantrum, but for what purpose? Snape
was the only person who knew, and Draco would know what to do. They had to
talk to Snape. He shouldn\'t act childish, but he was also tired of people
keeping things from him.

Not that he absolutely needed to know this bit of information, but he could
take care of himself when it came to knowledge. He could handle things, as
he\'d proved over the years, and yet not many seemed to give him credit for
it; Dumbledore did on occasiohichhich was why Harry were ere inquiring about
Snape\'s whereabouts. \"Are you sure this isn\'t something you could talk to me
about? Or perhaps even Minerva?\"

\"No, sir. I don\'t think so.\" Oh, how embarrassed he was about to be right
now if they didn\'t change the subject. Not that he could, since this was why
he was here, not to just have idle chit chat over tea with the Headmaster,
who happens to be the greatest wizard in the world, could read your damn d, ad, and know exactly what you were up to before you had a chance to pee
your pants at the sheer overwhelming quality of the situations Harry always
seemed to find himself in.

He just had to not give Dumbledore too much of a reason to be suspicious.
Dumbledore knew very well that Professor Snape and Harry disliked each
other, and their relationship was less than positive even in the smallest
encounters. Harry hated to disappoint Dumbledore, and they both knew that.
It was good for Harry to take on things by himself, and not to rely on
people who may not always be there in his times of need, regardless of
whether they wished they could be ot. ot.

Dumbledore sat, falling silent as he gazed at Harry, a calculating look
crossing his face before he conceded. \"Very well, Harry. You may find
Professor Snape at the Castle of Durmstrang. Keep in mind that he is on a
confidential mission directly sent by myself, and it is not to be
compromised by letting that particular information out to anyone else.\"

Right, don\'t tell anyone. Harry nodded his acknowledgement at the request
and made his way to the door. \"Thank you, sir,\" he said before opening the
door and walking out, never noticing that Dumbledore was smiling at him with
a knowing expression. Dumbledore didn\'t think he should ever keep anything
from Harry, but it was continuing to be tempting, again. Even though he knew
he had potentially put Harry and Draco\'s lives in danger, if they wanted to
go, there was not much he could do to stop them, even if he told them they
were being punted crudely in the direction of the Dark Lord.

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