Date: Tue, 17 Feb 2004 01:05:43 +0000
From: Meta4 <meta4@meta4.org>
Subject: Harry Potter and the Rising of the Dark, chapter 8

  HARRY POTTER AND THE RISING OF THE DARK
  by Meta4. Chapter 08.

  The Eleven (Elven?) Commandments
  ================================

  1.  Thou shalt bow to J.K. Rowling, creator of the Potterverse!
  2.  Thou shalt acknowledge all characters created by Her.
  3.  Thou shalt acknowledge the trademarks of Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
  4.  Thou shalt not read the story herein if Slash offendeth you.
  5.  Thou shalt not read this story if thou art not old enough so to do.
  6.  Thou shalt not pass the work herein as thine own.
  7.  Thou shalt not gain profit from distributing the work herein.
  8.  Respect thy mother and thy father - only read this work when they are out.
  9.  Thou shalt acknowledge My copyright
  10. Thou shalt contact Me if thou likest or thou detesteth this work.
  11. Thou shalt never piss off an Elf...

  HARRY POTTER AND THE RISING OF THE DARK
  by Meta4 <meta4@meta4.org>


  CHAPTER EIGHT:: My Family and Other Animals...

  Snape appeared rather preoccupied during potions that afternoon, failing
completely to deduct house points from Gryffindor for our monumental cock-up
with our soothing potion. Whilst everyone else's potions were a rather
sweet-smelling, cobalt blue, ours was more an angry red and emitted a rather
foul smell.

  Snape simply gave us an 'F' grade and left it at that, much to our relief and
Malfoy's annoyance.

  "But sir, they've completely messed it up!" he complained, outraged that his
apparently text-book-perfect example hadn't been singled out for credit.

  "Mr. Malfoy, once you are qualified to teach this class I may take your
criticisms of your fellow pupils seriously. Until that time, might I suggest
that you concentrate more on not letting your own cauldron overheat."

  Malfoy's concentration snapped back to his own cauldron and he looked on in
horror as it began to boil over. Despite his rather valiant efforts, the potion
turned a nasty green colour and started to dissolve the desk.

  Snape looked most displeased as Malfoy's entire cauldron fell through the desk
and landed with a clatter on the floor.

  "Mr. Malfoy, I wonder if I might have a word with you after this period is
finished?" asked Snape. Draco winced, but Snape continued. "I have a message
from your Father that he asked me to convey personally."

  Draco nodded in acknowledgement before trying to stem the flow of potion that
had started to traverse the dungeon's floor and dissolve the soles of various
students' shoes.

  ==========

  "I wonder what was on Snape's mind?" asked Ron as we ambled round the lake in
the low afternoon sunshine.

  "Probably the same thing that was on McGonagall's" I surmised.

  "I can't help wondering what was so important that Malfoy senior couldn't have
just sent an owl," pondered Hermione.

  "To be honest, I think I'd rather not know," smiled Harry.

  "'Arry! 'Ermione! Ron!" came a rather gruff voice from the edge of the forest.
I looked to my right to see a giant of a man waving energetically at us from the
doorway of a very quaint looking hut.

  I saw Harry smile and change course to walk over to the hut, so I followed.

  "Alrigh' there 'Arry?" he grinned from behind his huge, bristly beard. "I've
got sommat to show yeh,"

  "If it bites, breathes fire or is hairy and has too many legs we're not
interested, Hagrid," said Ron, looking rather apprehensive.

  "Oh no," he smiled back. "I think you might jus' like this little lot."

  "Hagrid this is Liam - he's a new student here." introduced Harry.

  "Oh - pleased to meet yeh," smiled Hagrid, offering me his hand that was at
least three times the size of my own - now rather delicate looking - appendage.
"Now if I wasn' teh know better, ah'd a said you was Elvish,"

  "I am," I smiled back.

  "Really?" Hagrid beamed. "I ain't never met a Woodland Elf before. Folk say
you can do some pretty amazing stuff..."

  "Well, yeah, I guess," I admitted.

  Hagrid chuckled. "C'mon - I reckon these little blighters'll get on well
enough wi' Elves too."

  "What, uh, don't they get on well with?" asked Hermione, sharing Ron's
apprehension.

  "Muggles as a rule of thumb, but this lot seem like quite a docile bunch."

  Hagrid pushed open the door to his hut and led us inside. On entering, all I
could hear was a cacophony of growling and snarling. Expecting to see a whole
herd of teeth-on-legs, I was more than pleasantly surprised to see a half-dozen
puppy-like animals. They looked almost identical to Jack Russell puppies with
the exception of a rather vicious-looking forked tail.

  Hagrid smiled down on them benevolently as he watched them rip one of his
cushions to shreds.

  "Hagrid, what are they?" asked Ron, actually smiling at them. On subsequent
enquiry, I found that Hagrid's 'pets' usually had a bad habit of wanting to
cause actual bodily harm to Ron. These in the grand scheme of things seemed very
tame for Hagrid. At least that was until Ron saw one of them bite clean through
the leg of a stool that promptly fell over with a clatter.

  "They're Crups," smiled Hagrid. "Bit like a dog but far more cleverer. Very
loyal too. They're one o' the few magical creatures the Ministry'll allow yeh to
keep as a pet. Oh - Liam, I wouldn't get too close - they can be a bit feisty
around strangers..."

  I'd knelt down and offered my hand to one of the Crups who was looking at me
with sparkly eyes. He took a tentative step forward and sniffed my hand. The
Crup then waggled its bum slightly and leaped at me, knocking me backwards more
in surprise than anything. Hagrid came bounding over to wrestle the little
critter from me, but soon started laughing as he saw him licking my face, forked
tail whipping back and forth with enjoyment.

  "Well I'll be! Looks like he's chosen you there, Liam."

  "Chosen me?" I asked, pushing myself upright and starting to fuss the little
bundle of fur that was mountaineering its way onto my shoulders and licking my
ear.

  "Crups choose their owners an' stick with 'em for life - you've got yehself a
new friend there now, lad!" smiled Hagrid, all teary-eyed...

  "What?" I asked, retrieving the Crup from between my shoulder-blades and
looking him in the eye. He wagged his tail furiously and tried to lick my nose
again. He was almost completely white except for the odd black splodge over his
head and, it had to be said, incredibly cute.

  "E's yours now, Liam. When a Crup chooses 'is new master there's nothing 'e
won't do for yeh, and you'll never be able to get rid of 'im neither."

  Harry seemed to find this intensely amusing whilst Hermione was too busy
'awwww'ing at the other pups and their mum to notice.

  I scruffed the little fluffy ball of teeth behind the ears, which he seemed to
appreciate. I'd never had a pet before - it had never even crossed my mind in
recent years - but I had to say that I quite liked the idea. The Crup also
looked cool - there were more teeth in its mouth than a great white shark yet
when he affectionately chewed my fingers he was very gentle.

  Crup it was, then.

  Ron surveyed the Crup with caution. It apparently fulfilled one of his
definitions as Something That Should Not Be Kept As A Pet as he "has far too
many teeth - what does he need them all for, anyway?"

  "What are you gonna call him?" asked Harry.

  I looked at the intensely messy hair and then looked at Harry and grinned.

  "Ohhh no..."

  "Monty," I grinned. "He's definitely a Monty. Aren't you?"

  Monty barked a bark that would've more suited a Labrador than a little
terrier, taking us all by surprise.

  Hagrid chuckled. "Thing about Crups is that their bite is usually a lot
worse'n their bark..."

  Ron pulled his feet up from the floor.

  After another few minutes of playing with Monty, Hagrid offered us all a cup
of tea from a tea set that would've looked more at home in an iron foundry than
someone's home. He took me through some of the things to know about owning a
Crup, such as not letting it chase after things as they usually bit first and
worried about what they were biting later.

  Harry and I couldn't help but laugh as every time Ron picked up a biscuit from
the plate on the table, Monty leaped vertically from where he was sat and
snapped it right out of his hand.

  After the third stolen biscuit, Ron looked at me in desperation. I whistled
and patted the bit of empty seat next to me. Monty dashed up from the floor and
crash-landed against my leg, wagging his tail excessively again.

  Harry, who was sat next to me, reached over to stroke him. Hagrid quite
visibly tensed for a moment, obviously expecting the worst again, but much to
his relief Monty simply rolled over and let him tickle his tummy.

  ==========

  Later that evening, all five of us were sat next to the fire in the common
room again. Hermione had dug out her copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find
Them' and proceeded to read the entry for Crups.

  "'The Crup originated in the southeast of England. It closely resembles a Jack
Russell terrier, except for the forked tail. The Crup is almost certainly a
wizard-created dog as it is intensely loyal towards wizards and ferocious
towards Muggles. It is a great scavenger, eating anything from gnomes to old
tyres. Crup licences may be obtained from the Department for the Control of
Magical Creatures on completion of a simple test to prove that the applicant
wizard is capable of controlling the Crup in Muggle-inhabited areas.'" [1]

  "Doesn't mention the teeth, though, does it?" said Ron, employing his earlier
idea and keeping his feet tucked under himself as he sat on the sofa.

  Monty was busy destroying an old towel that I'd given him and looked immensely
proud of the mess he'd made. Once it was 'just so', he turned round in circles a
few times to flatten it and then plonked himself down, gently snoozing in front
of the wonderful glow from the fireplace.

  Interestingly, Monty showed very little interest in Hermione's cat,
Crookshanks, when he strolled past. Crookshanks, however, ensured that he was
well out of gnashing distance at all times, but other than that the two seemed
to ignore each other.

  The dark evenings and murky corridors of Hogwarts always seemed to ensure you
felt as if it was the middle of the night when it was in fact just past seven
o'clock. As Snape had omitted to set us homework (which I was assured simply
never happened) we were all at rather a loose end, so I suggested to Harry that
we go and take a walk.

  Ron looked at Hermione, but realised she was far to engrossed in her book to
want to do the same, so he did his best to sidle up to her.

  I gave a quick whistle and Monty immediately leaped off the towel and skidded
to a halt by my side, looking up at us expectantly.

  "Bit eager isn't he?" I smiled.

  "Just like his owner," grinned Harry.

  We pulled our cloaks on and headed out of Gryffindor Tower and into the
grounds.

  We'd barely cleared the front door before I pulled Harry to me and kissed him
hard on the lips. After a brief moment, I let us part and smiled at him.

  "I've been wanting to do that all day," I admitted.

  "Me too," he smiled back. "I... I've also been thinking about what we did this
morning and... well, I'd like to... uh..."

  "Try it again?"

  "Yeah,"

  His shyness and sincere innocence turned me on like you wouldn't believe, so I
suggested we cut short our walk and beat a hasty retreat to the dorms. Harry
agreed with me whole-heartedly.

  Without further debate, Harry and I about-faced and headed directly for
Gryffindor tower once again.

  We made a suitably pathetic excuse to Ron and Hermione as to why we'd returned
so soon and ran up to the fifth form dorm. On finding the dorm empty, we set
about removing each others' clothing as quickly as we could muster. The drafts
that regularly whistled through the castle, whilst adding to the whole mystical
air of the place, also had the side effect of making most parts of it almost
unbearably cold.

  Gryffindor tower was no exception, but the huge fireplace and heavy tapestries
in the common room easily made up for it. In the very top of the tower, however,
there was but a rather insignificant iron stove to heat the room and as it
hadn't been stoked for a few hours it wasn't exactly throwing heat around the
place.

  Stood in just my boxers, I suddenly became very aware of the cold, hugging
myself and shivering. I was just about to will the room warmer when Harry asked
me to let him try. Firstly, he raised the temperature in the room a good few
degrees and then set the fire roaring up its flimsy little tin chimney to
maintain it.

  I smiled at Harry's improving command of his magical abilities and hugged him
to me.

  ==========

  Over the following week, I found myself settling in very well to school life,
which surprised me more than anyone as previously I'd managed to turn truancy
into an art form. Now, however, I was actually enjoying classes and learning
about the wizarding world.

  The weather, however, seemed to be diametrically opposed to my mood, quite
suddenly getting colder and colder, bringing with it an almost continuous
snowfall.

  Much to Harry's surprise, I elected to take History of Magic classes.
Professor Binns, the ghost who taught the classes, appeared to be quite
surprised that one of his few attendees was paying attention and initially
seemed rather disconcerted when I started to ask questions.

  Gradually, however, he broke out of his monotone and began to enthuse about
the people of which he was speaking which in turn piqued the interest of some of
the other students as well.

  Harry had been right about Snape's lack of petty vindictiveness being an
anomaly: He soon returned to berating all non-Slytherin pupils, deducting points
for things like "sneezing in a disruptive manner" and "stirring without due care
and attention", much to the amusement of Malfoy and his cronies. If the majority
of these hadn't been directed at Harry and myself I too would have probably
found the whole thing rather amusing. That not being the case, however, I simply
had to resort to gritting my teeth and willing Snape's quill nib to break
shortly after he changed to a fresh one.

  Monty too had settled into Gryffindor tower and was amiable enough to the
majority of the students, the exception inevitably being Neville. He made the
rather unfortunate mistake of thinking Monty's towel was his and tried to
wrestle it off him. Monty took offense to this and every day since has dutifully
chewed to shreds anything that smelled even vaguely of Neville.

  Aside from these little altercations twixt boy and dog, life was good. Harry
and I, apparently having overcome the initial lust-period we felt for each
other, found ourselves falling for each other more and more. At first, Harry
felt as if he had to protect me from his past and his scar, not wanting me to
share his emotional burden.

  I, however, would have none of this and the argument became quite heated at
one point.

  "But you don't deserve to have my emotional baggage hovering over you!" Harry
said, pacing up and down our dorm. When he was agitated, he ran his fingers
through his hair repeatedly, making it even more unruly than usual.

  "H, look at me."

  He stopped and turned, frustration written all over his face.

  "If I was at all worried about having to deal with your past I'd have run a
mile by now!"

  I stood up and walked over to him and rested my arms around his neck, allowing
our foreheads to touch.

  "I don't want to hurt you, Liam. I've already done that once," he said,
referring to my touching of his scar.

  "I've told you - you didn't hurt me, it just took me by surprise, that's all.
I'd feel honoured if you felt you could share this with me. You know I'll do
anything I can to help you and comfort you, Harry."

  I placed a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips and hugged him.

  When we parted, he was crying. I lifted his head and looked into his
tear-streaked eyes. I could see he was torn between trying to protect me and
letting me help him, so I took the decision on his behalf.

  I led him to the bed and lay him down. I then walked round the other side and
snuggled up close to him. Carefully - and making sure I was ready for the
torrent of feeling that was about to pour into me - I touched Harry's scar once
more. Knowing what to expect made the whole experience far more metered and
after a few seconds I found I could slow events to the rate I could fully
understand.

  For the next three hours we stayed like that, holding one another, as I
relived Harry's life.

  ==========

  I woke up on Saturday to find myself inexorably entwined with Harry, such
close proximity with him having a rather predictable effect on me.

  My stirring began to wake him and a moment later I was staring into his
wonderful emerald eyes.

  "Good morning," I whispered.

  "Mornin'," he replied, flexing his muscles around me as he woke. I also felt
him flex another 'muscle' that was exquisitely squashed against my own, and I
shivered with pleasure. We shared a kiss that lasted a whole lot longer than I
think either of us had intended, but neither party was about to complain.

  "Thank you," I smiled.

  "What for?"

  "For letting me in."

  "I should really be thanking you," he smiled shyly. "They say a trouble shared
is a trouble halved - and they're not wrong..."

  I kissed him once more.

  "So what's happening this weekend?"

  "It's a Hogsmeade weekend," he yawned after we managed to separate ourselves
from one another. "Want to go?"

  "Hogsmeade?"

  "Local village. A few shops and a pub - that's about it."

  "Not exactly SHOPPING shopping then is it?"

  "How d'you mean?"

  "We're in Scotland, right?"

  "Right."

  "A stone's throw from Loch Ness, right?"

  "Right.."

  "Now, I know I'm shit at Geography, but ain't Loch Ness right next to
Inverness?"

  "Yeah, I think it is."

  "How long have you been here?"

  "This is my fifth year..."

  "And in all that time you've never been to Inverness?"

  "Well, no..."

  "C'mon, then," I said, getting out of bed. "We're going to go to Inverness."

  "Don't you think we ought to do something about that first, though?" asked
Harry, staring intently at my midsection.

  I looked down and grinned. "I suppose you're right..."

  ==========

  "I think you'll enjoy Hogsmeade more," commented Hermione as I aired my idea.

  "Really?"

  She nodded. "There's all sorts of weird and mad stuff there - it's worth
having a look at least once. All Muggle towns and cities are the same - see one
and you've seen them all. Besides, with all this snow it'd be rather difficult
getting more than a couple of miles."

  I looked over at Harry. "We can always go to Inverness as soon as the snow
clears up," he offered. I surmised that to be perfectly true and, as I hadn't
seen a wizarding town before, decided it to be a good idea.

  We all nipped back to the Dormitories to retrieve our heavy winter cloaks as
the sky looked more than a little foreboding.A few minutes later, we were all
togged up and ready for the worst the Scottish winter could throw at us. We
pushed aside the portrait hole and began the mile-or-so walk to Hogsmeade from
Hogwarts.

  From four floors up in Gryffindor tower, the snow appeared as a light, fluffy
blanket gently covering the countryside. The reality on walking out of the front
door was somewhat different, however: The snow was nearly three feet deep in
places where Hagrid hadn't been dutifully shovelling, aided by the odd charm
here and there from any passing member of staff. It was truly awesome to behold
and, living a lot further south, I had not really experienced proper snow.

  Ron and Hermione led the way, wading rather comically through the snow with an
awful lot of giggling and falling into one another. Harry and I kept a
respectable distance behind them, whilst Monty was leaping around like he had
springs for paws, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of sinking three times his
body height into the snow.

  "So, do you reckon they've... You know," I asked Harry, nodding towards Ron
and Hermione who had ended up on top of one another in a conveniently placed
drift.

  "What, like..." he nodded his head suggestively. I nodded in affirmation. "Oh
God no. Ron'd be far to nervous and Hermione... Well, I just get the feeling
that she wouldn't anyway."

  "Bummer,"

  "Or not," smiled Harry. "Hey, see that?"

  He pointed out a building half-way up a hillside on the outskirts of
Hogsmeade. "That's the Shrieking Shack. My Dad and some of his friends used to
hide out there. One of them was a werewolf, and so every month when he
transformed, he had to leave the school. There's a secret tunnel that leads all
the way from the castle grounds into its basement."

  I was starting to get used to taking the most arbitrary, nonsensical sentences
as fact now, and I even managed to suppress the majority of my surprise and
intrigue, although deep down it did still rather amaze me.

  "Cool... Hey, perhaps we could... You know, kinda use it as our own?"

  "I don't see why not," smiled Harry. "Shame we didn't come up with that
earlier," he smiled.

  We carried on into Hogsmeade and, as Hermione had suggested I may be, found
myself rather overwhelmed by the strangeness of a Wizarding town. All of the
buildings reminded me of pictures from history books: they all seemed to be
plonked in rather arbitrary positions with little or no regard for a street
plan, whilst having roofs that started almost at ground level and swept two or
three stories high. If Sir Isaac Newton could see them he'd have torn up his
whole idea about action and reaction, such were the physical impossibilities of
some of the constructions.

  We rounded the corner into a street that tortured the very definition of a
high street. The biting wind loaded with snow whipped straight down the zig-zag
alleyway, causing us all to involuntarily shiver and pull our cloaks just a
little tighter round us. Directly opposite us was Zonko's Joke Shop. Through the
brightly decorated window, I could see Fred and George talking in an extremely
animated manner to the shopkeeper, who seemed to have a rather eclectic mix of
enthusiasm and trepidation on his face.

  A couple of doors down was a house so thin that if it wasn't supported by its
peers on either side it surely would have to have fallen down. Next to that was
what looked like an office signed "Obscurus Publishing", out of which came a
very hassled looking witch, clutching a large pile of parchment and cursing
under her breath as the wind did its best to rip the papers from her hands.

  We all followed Hermione's lead into a branch of Flourish and Blotts,
clenching our fists and blowing our fingers to try and get some feeling back
into them. As we entered, a small bell tinkled somewhere in the back of the
shop. A rather rotund, elderly witch hobbled out from the back of the shop and
greeted us all with a smile until she spotted Monty.

  "I'm sorry, dear," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm afraid we don't
allow animals in the store."

  "He won't be any problem, ma'am, I promise. I'll pay for any damage," I added,
hoping it might swing her decision. Thankfully, it did.

  "All right, but try and keep an eye on him - the last Crup we had in here
destroyed a whole shipment of Lockhart books..."

  Ron snorted. "Not a major loss, then,"

  Both the shopkeeper and Hermione looked at Ron as if he'd just crapped on the
carpet before they both wandered off in their own directions.

  "Now, you're going to be good aren't you?"

  Monty wagged his tail and shuffled a little closer to my leg.

  "Were you talking to the Crup or to Harry?" enquired Hermione as innocently as
she could from across the shop.

  We browsed round for a bit. Harry picked up a book on the Chudley Cannons and
flicked through the pages, stopping to watch some of the moving pictures in the
centre. Ron too had gravitated towards the Quidditch section and was peering
over Harry's shoulder.

  "Who're they?" I asked.

  "Who're they?!" echoed Ron incredulously. "'They' are only one of the best
Quidditch teams ever to grace the face of the planet," he continued.

  "Quidditch?"

  Ron looked at me aghast, and then looked at Harry for some support. He got
none as Harry was too busy sniggering at Ron's horror at my ignorance.

  "Harry, now don't take this the wrong way, mate, but you're really going to
have to educate your... uh..."

  "Boyfriend?" he offered.

  Ron blushed slightly. I positively beamed at Harry. We hadn't really spoken
about any kind of 'formalisation' of our relationship, such as it was at less
than a week old, but it looked as if Harry was happy to let it progress a
little.

  "Yeah, well," continued Ron, regaining his stride a little. "Whatever he is,
if he's sharing our dorm you've got to teach him Quidditch."

  Harry looked around the shelf from which he'd got the Chudley Cannons book and
pulled a green-covered volume from the shelf. "A present," he smiled. I looked
at the cover: "Quidditch through the ages?"

  "Best way of explaining the game and why it's played like it is," smiled
Harry. "Tell you what, why don't we all go and get a butterbeer from the Three
Broomsticks and I'll explain it all."

  "'K. Any chance we can swing by a cash machine?"

  "A what?" asked Ron.

  "Cash machine - allows you to get money out of a hole in the wall," I
explained none too clearly.

  "There's a branch of Gringotts round the corner from here - we'll see if they
can sort out some wizard money for you," smiled Hermione. Harry volunteered to
pay for the small assortment of books we had chosen. The shopkeeper smiled at us
and paid comment on how well I'd managed to train my Crup. She looked at Monty
thoughtfully for a moment, then bent down behind the counter and retrieved a
rather tattered copy of "Magical Me" by Gilderoy Lockhart.

  "Seeing as the poor man's lost his marbles I's don't suppose he'd mind," she
smiled, and placed the book squarely into Monty's mouth. We thanked her, turned
up our collars and trudged back out into the snow again.



  [1] Extract from "Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them" by Newt Scamander
and J.K. Rowling; Bloomsbury Children's Books; ISBN: 0747554668


  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

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