Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Light of Hope
Feasts, Schedules and Revelations
1 reviewOne word, so many consequences. One change, so many outcomes. The life of Harry Potter and his twin sister, Hope, revered by the Wizarding World as the Twins Who Lived.
1Original
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Light of Hope: Part One
Chapter Eight: Feasts, Schedules and Revelations
Hope collapsed on the bench next to Harry. Everyone was still staring at her; she could feel it. She turned her head downwards very determinedly, and popped into Harry's head to look at the Great Hall.
It was magnificent. Bright silver ghosts floated near four long tables-- \The House tables,/ Harry said-- whose ends were pointing towards another, slightly shorter table. The teachers sat there: Dumbledore with his silver beard shining even more brightly than the ghosts; an enormous man who must have been Hagrid; a plump, disheveled witch who was beaming at the table that clapped for Hufflepuff was probably Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff; a sallow man with a hooked nose and an unpleasant expression seemed to match the slippery tones of Professor Snape; and a tiny man could only have been exuberant little Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw.
\And who's the one in the turban?/
\\Professor Quirrell, I think. He didn't talk to me, really, but... I didn't like him much.//
\Why?/
\\I don't know. It just...gives me a weird feeling.//
\Like... Miss Cunningham?/ Miss Cunningham had attempted to gain the favor of the class by favoring the 'popular kids' and virtually ignoring those who weren't as well liked.
\\I... Kind of.//
\There would have to be at least one teacher like that./
Hope didn't answer. The feeling she got from Quirrell wasn't quite the same; but it was close enough. The feeling might even have been coming from another teacher, as close as they were to each other and as far as they were from Hope. She put it out of her mind and began to inspect the hall again.
There was no ceiling. The roof of the Great Hall simply opened up into the heavens.
\Hermione said it was just charmed to look like the sky./
\\Just charmed? Nothing amazing or magical, or anything like that?//
\Well, that's what she said. Are you done yet? The food's here./
\\Done.//
\How much chicken do you want?/
The conversation among the first years had turned to families. Among the boys and Hope were four half-bloods and one muggle-born. Hermione was busy talking to the eldest Weasley about classes, and the other two girls were involved in a conversation of their own that seemed to involve as much giggling as talking.
The last traces of pudding disappeared, and the headmaster stood. He had not made announcements before the meal, for which Harry was profoundly grateful.
He warned against forbidden items, the use of magic in the corridors, and that the Forbidden Forrest was, in a word, forbidden.
"I also must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly prohibited to anyone who does not wish to die a most gruesome death.
\Is he serious?/
\\I don't think he would joke about that.//
"And now," said Dumbledore, "the time has come to sing the school song!" Harry noted that most of the teachers were wearing rather forced smiles on stiff faces. "Everyone pick your favorite tune!"
Dumbledore flicked his wand as if to shoo away a cat, and the school bellowed out:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Harry noticed that Hermione was barely moving her lips, but was looking at Tair out of the corner of her eye, as if she was trying not to laugh.
Our heads could use with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
Tair was singing softly as well, but looked pained at the commotion the tuneless song made.
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Dumbledore conducted the last of the song, sung by the Weasley twins to the tune of a very slow funeral dirge. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindors followed Percy the Prefect through the halls of the school to Gryffindor Tower. Harry, warned by Hope, barely twitched as they were led through halls with portraits that whispered to doors hidden by moving panels and tapestries.
Harry was just beginning to wonder how far they had yet to go when a pile of walking sticks left their position in midair to through themselves at the group.
Percy stopped. "Peeves," he said in a soft tone. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves--show yourself!"
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head.
They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody
Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it-Neville needed a leg up-and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of the boys' spiral staircase--they were obviously in one of the towers--Harry found his bed at last: one of five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. To tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."
Hope entered her dorm room right behind Hermione. She was glad Hermione had some sense--Hermione had tugged Hope into the room when she would have gone on, and she found Hope's trunk and told her which bed was hers.
Hope opened the trunk and dug around inside, wishing she had put her nightgown on the top when she repacked. Her hand had just closed around the thin cotton when she realized that all was silent. There should have been some kind of noise to indicate the other's presence; but there wasn't.
"Well," a light voice chirruped. Hope remembered that there were three other girls in the dorm: Lavender Brown and one other. Hope knew that the other girl had a twin, but she couldn't recall her name, except that it started with a P.
"First things first," the voice continued. "Bathroom schedules."
"No, introductions come before schedules." This voice was lower than both the first girl's and Hermione's. "That way we know who we're scheduling. Parvati Patil."
"Lavender Brown."
"Hermione Granger."
All that was left now was- "Oh." Hope. "Um-" Spit it out! They won't eat you. Hope Potter. "I'm..."
"Hope Potter, of course." Lavender Brown, the one with the light voice.
"...yeah." Thank you...
"So, this is the properly-introduced Lavender Brown saying that she needs a shower to wake her up in the morning," Lavender announced.
"I prefer the night," Hermione said after a short giggle.
"Yeah, you'd need it with all of that hair." That was Parvati, the one with the twin. "I want morning. Hope?"
"Um... night's fine."
"Good! We can alternate days for who goes first. Lavender can start in the morning, and you two can flip a coin or whatever for tonight," Parvati finished triumphantly. Footsteps came from her direction, as she apparently stood and went to the bathroom.
"Do you mind if I go tonight, Hope?" Hermione asked. "I usually shower every other night, and I'm not tired yet."
"Oh, um, me too." Complete sentences, Potter! "Go ahead."
Hermione's steps went to her left, then there was a thump of knees hitting the floor and a sharp "Ow!" before the very soft squeak of a new trunk opening. Hope climbed into her bed and felt for hangings. There had been heavy ones on the bed she had slept in over the summer, and she hoped that her own bed would have them as well. They were there. She pulled the hangings, and make sure that there was no gap, then changed into her nightgown.
As she was doing this, Parvati returned from the bathroom and was talking to Hermione. "I checked the shower curtains, and you can't see anything through them. Do you mind if we get ready in there while you're in the shower? There's two sinks, so we'll be quick."
"Go ahead. My sister does it all the time at home--just wait until I'm in."
"Your sister? Is she coming to Hogwarts?"
"No, she's a muggle. Besides, she's almost thirty. Way to old to come."
The bathroom door closed as Hope remembered something that had attracted her attention on the train. Hermione's sister, Athena.
...I want both of you to grow up safe, living in Godric's Hollow with me and your mother, and having your Uncle Padfoot and Aunt Athena and Uncle Moony and Aunt Sarah and Uncle Wormtail dropping by every five minutes...Padfoot would live in your nursery if Athena would let him...I'm leaving yours to Sirius, but he'll probably give it to Athena for safe keeping...Get Padfoot and Moony and Sarah and Wormtail to cough up some stories about Hogwarts, and tell them and Athena that they were the best friends anyone could ever have.
Her dad had mentioned Athena several times, usually in connection with Athena. He had told her and Harry to ask Padfoot and Moony and Sarah and Wormtail for stories, but not Athena, perhaps because Athena hadn't gone to Hogwarts.
And that could have been because Athena was a muggle.
A muggle with a wizard husband who had been a casualty of the war, (and neither Tair nor Hermione had every said he had been killed, just that he had been a casualty), and who had a son named Altair Black...
It was a wild guess, but there were too many coincidences. She'd tell Harry in the morning, but who else could she tell? Tair wouldn't take kindly to the revelation that his father was the person everyone thought had betrayed Lily and James Potter, practically celebrities in the wizarding world, to Voldemort. Hermione wouldn't like it either.
It was to much for so late a night. Hope lay down on her be and fell into the embrace of the dreams of four boys who were sometimes four animals, interspersed with quiet realizations of hallways and classes and flying feathers and full English breakfasts...
A/N Like? Love? Loathe? Review! (Yes corny, but how else am I going to know what you think?) Constructive criticism is appreciated, praise is delightedly devoured, flames are decidedly unappreciated--for pity's sake, people, if you don't like my fic, tell me why, don't netscream it in a dialect so peppered with cursing that its hard to see the actual words. You review me; I'll review your Harry Potter fanfics.
Light of Hope: Part One
Chapter Eight: Feasts, Schedules and Revelations
Hope collapsed on the bench next to Harry. Everyone was still staring at her; she could feel it. She turned her head downwards very determinedly, and popped into Harry's head to look at the Great Hall.
It was magnificent. Bright silver ghosts floated near four long tables-- \The House tables,/ Harry said-- whose ends were pointing towards another, slightly shorter table. The teachers sat there: Dumbledore with his silver beard shining even more brightly than the ghosts; an enormous man who must have been Hagrid; a plump, disheveled witch who was beaming at the table that clapped for Hufflepuff was probably Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff; a sallow man with a hooked nose and an unpleasant expression seemed to match the slippery tones of Professor Snape; and a tiny man could only have been exuberant little Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw.
\And who's the one in the turban?/
\\Professor Quirrell, I think. He didn't talk to me, really, but... I didn't like him much.//
\Why?/
\\I don't know. It just...gives me a weird feeling.//
\Like... Miss Cunningham?/ Miss Cunningham had attempted to gain the favor of the class by favoring the 'popular kids' and virtually ignoring those who weren't as well liked.
\\I... Kind of.//
\There would have to be at least one teacher like that./
Hope didn't answer. The feeling she got from Quirrell wasn't quite the same; but it was close enough. The feeling might even have been coming from another teacher, as close as they were to each other and as far as they were from Hope. She put it out of her mind and began to inspect the hall again.
There was no ceiling. The roof of the Great Hall simply opened up into the heavens.
\Hermione said it was just charmed to look like the sky./
\\Just charmed? Nothing amazing or magical, or anything like that?//
\Well, that's what she said. Are you done yet? The food's here./
\\Done.//
\How much chicken do you want?/
The conversation among the first years had turned to families. Among the boys and Hope were four half-bloods and one muggle-born. Hermione was busy talking to the eldest Weasley about classes, and the other two girls were involved in a conversation of their own that seemed to involve as much giggling as talking.
The last traces of pudding disappeared, and the headmaster stood. He had not made announcements before the meal, for which Harry was profoundly grateful.
He warned against forbidden items, the use of magic in the corridors, and that the Forbidden Forrest was, in a word, forbidden.
"I also must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is strictly prohibited to anyone who does not wish to die a most gruesome death.
\Is he serious?/
\\I don't think he would joke about that.//
"And now," said Dumbledore, "the time has come to sing the school song!" Harry noted that most of the teachers were wearing rather forced smiles on stiff faces. "Everyone pick your favorite tune!"
Dumbledore flicked his wand as if to shoo away a cat, and the school bellowed out:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Harry noticed that Hermione was barely moving her lips, but was looking at Tair out of the corner of her eye, as if she was trying not to laugh.
Our heads could use with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
Tair was singing softly as well, but looked pained at the commotion the tuneless song made.
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Dumbledore conducted the last of the song, sung by the Weasley twins to the tune of a very slow funeral dirge. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindors followed Percy the Prefect through the halls of the school to Gryffindor Tower. Harry, warned by Hope, barely twitched as they were led through halls with portraits that whispered to doors hidden by moving panels and tapestries.
Harry was just beginning to wonder how far they had yet to go when a pile of walking sticks left their position in midair to through themselves at the group.
Percy stopped. "Peeves," he said in a soft tone. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves--show yourself!"
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head.
They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody
Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it-Neville needed a leg up-and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of the boys' spiral staircase--they were obviously in one of the towers--Harry found his bed at last: one of five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. To tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."
Hope entered her dorm room right behind Hermione. She was glad Hermione had some sense--Hermione had tugged Hope into the room when she would have gone on, and she found Hope's trunk and told her which bed was hers.
Hope opened the trunk and dug around inside, wishing she had put her nightgown on the top when she repacked. Her hand had just closed around the thin cotton when she realized that all was silent. There should have been some kind of noise to indicate the other's presence; but there wasn't.
"Well," a light voice chirruped. Hope remembered that there were three other girls in the dorm: Lavender Brown and one other. Hope knew that the other girl had a twin, but she couldn't recall her name, except that it started with a P.
"First things first," the voice continued. "Bathroom schedules."
"No, introductions come before schedules." This voice was lower than both the first girl's and Hermione's. "That way we know who we're scheduling. Parvati Patil."
"Lavender Brown."
"Hermione Granger."
All that was left now was- "Oh." Hope. "Um-" Spit it out! They won't eat you. Hope Potter. "I'm..."
"Hope Potter, of course." Lavender Brown, the one with the light voice.
"...yeah." Thank you...
"So, this is the properly-introduced Lavender Brown saying that she needs a shower to wake her up in the morning," Lavender announced.
"I prefer the night," Hermione said after a short giggle.
"Yeah, you'd need it with all of that hair." That was Parvati, the one with the twin. "I want morning. Hope?"
"Um... night's fine."
"Good! We can alternate days for who goes first. Lavender can start in the morning, and you two can flip a coin or whatever for tonight," Parvati finished triumphantly. Footsteps came from her direction, as she apparently stood and went to the bathroom.
"Do you mind if I go tonight, Hope?" Hermione asked. "I usually shower every other night, and I'm not tired yet."
"Oh, um, me too." Complete sentences, Potter! "Go ahead."
Hermione's steps went to her left, then there was a thump of knees hitting the floor and a sharp "Ow!" before the very soft squeak of a new trunk opening. Hope climbed into her bed and felt for hangings. There had been heavy ones on the bed she had slept in over the summer, and she hoped that her own bed would have them as well. They were there. She pulled the hangings, and make sure that there was no gap, then changed into her nightgown.
As she was doing this, Parvati returned from the bathroom and was talking to Hermione. "I checked the shower curtains, and you can't see anything through them. Do you mind if we get ready in there while you're in the shower? There's two sinks, so we'll be quick."
"Go ahead. My sister does it all the time at home--just wait until I'm in."
"Your sister? Is she coming to Hogwarts?"
"No, she's a muggle. Besides, she's almost thirty. Way to old to come."
The bathroom door closed as Hope remembered something that had attracted her attention on the train. Hermione's sister, Athena.
...I want both of you to grow up safe, living in Godric's Hollow with me and your mother, and having your Uncle Padfoot and Aunt Athena and Uncle Moony and Aunt Sarah and Uncle Wormtail dropping by every five minutes...Padfoot would live in your nursery if Athena would let him...I'm leaving yours to Sirius, but he'll probably give it to Athena for safe keeping...Get Padfoot and Moony and Sarah and Wormtail to cough up some stories about Hogwarts, and tell them and Athena that they were the best friends anyone could ever have.
Her dad had mentioned Athena several times, usually in connection with Athena. He had told her and Harry to ask Padfoot and Moony and Sarah and Wormtail for stories, but not Athena, perhaps because Athena hadn't gone to Hogwarts.
And that could have been because Athena was a muggle.
A muggle with a wizard husband who had been a casualty of the war, (and neither Tair nor Hermione had every said he had been killed, just that he had been a casualty), and who had a son named Altair Black...
It was a wild guess, but there were too many coincidences. She'd tell Harry in the morning, but who else could she tell? Tair wouldn't take kindly to the revelation that his father was the person everyone thought had betrayed Lily and James Potter, practically celebrities in the wizarding world, to Voldemort. Hermione wouldn't like it either.
It was to much for so late a night. Hope lay down on her be and fell into the embrace of the dreams of four boys who were sometimes four animals, interspersed with quiet realizations of hallways and classes and flying feathers and full English breakfasts...
A/N Like? Love? Loathe? Review! (Yes corny, but how else am I going to know what you think?) Constructive criticism is appreciated, praise is delightedly devoured, flames are decidedly unappreciated--for pity's sake, people, if you don't like my fic, tell me why, don't netscream it in a dialect so peppered with cursing that its hard to see the actual words. You review me; I'll review your Harry Potter fanfics.
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