Chapter 36: Preparations and Plans
Harry's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest. The vivid images from his dream—no, his vision—still burned in his mind. Hogsmeade in flames, masked figures closing in on Ron and Hermione, spells flying through the air... He sat up, pushing his sweat-damp hair out of his eyes, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of his nightmare.
"This is really happening," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet dormitory. The Seer potion he had taken earlier was already 90% digested, its effects coursing through his system, sharpening his senses and his connection to future events. He was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, but also the young man who had lived another life, who carried the weight of knowledge about what was to come.
With a determined set to his jaw, Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed. The stone floor was cold beneath his feet, grounding him in the present moment. He moved quietly, careful not to wake his sleeping roommates, as he got dressed. His fingers fumbled slightly with the buttons of his shirt, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the vision.
As he made his way down the spiral staircase to the common room, Harry's thoughts raced. How much time did they have? How could he prepare his friends for what was coming without revealing too much? The responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders, a familiar but no less daunting burden.
The common room was bathed in the soft, warm glow of the dying embers in the fireplace. Harry paused at the foot of the stairs, taking in the comforting familiarity of the space. The worn armchairs, the scattered parchments left behind by studious Gryffindors, the gentle ticking of the old clock on the mantle—it all seemed so normal, so far removed from the dangers that loomed on the horizon.
He needed to act, and fast.
---
"Mate, you look like you've seen a ghost," Ron said as he descended the stairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His red hair was sticking up at odd angles, and his pajamas were rumpled. "And that's saying something, considering where we live."
Hermione, already awake and poring over a thick tome at one of the study tables, looked up with concern. Her bushy hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and there were smudges of ink on her fingers. "Harry, what's wrong? You're up awfully early."
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The sight of his two best friends, sleepy and disheveled but safe, brought a momentary sense of relief. But he knew it wouldn't last. "I need to talk to you both," he said, his voice low and urgent. "And... Ron, can you leave Scabbers in the dormitory? It's important."
Ron's brow furrowed in confusion, a flicker of worry crossing his freckled face. But he nodded, sensing the gravity in Harry's tone, and trudged back upstairs. The creaking of the old wooden steps seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet morning.
When he returned, Harry led them to a quiet corner of the common room, away from the portrait hole and any potential eavesdroppers. They settled into a cluster of squashy armchairs, the rich crimson upholstery a comforting backdrop to the serious conversation that was about to unfold.
"I had a vision," Harry began, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. "A real one, like the first Hogsmeade holiday. Hogsmeade was under attack. You two were in danger. I saw masked figures, spells flying everywhere..."
The words tumbled out, painting a vivid picture of chaos and destruction. As he spoke, Harry could see the scene playing out again in his mind's eye—the acrid smell of smoke, the cries of panicked villagers, the flashes of deadly spells illuminating the night sky.
Hermione's eyes widened, her quick mind already racing to process the implications. "Harry, are you absolutely sure it wasn't just a nightmare?" she asked, her voice gentle but probing. "With everything that's been happening, it would be understandable if your subconscious was conjuring up worst-case scenarios."
Harry shook his head emphatically, his messy black hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it back impatiently. "No, it was too real, too detailed. The emotions, the sensations—it was like I was there. And with everything that's been happening..." He trailed off, thinking of Sirius Black's attack on the tower, the lingering threat that seemed to hang over the castle like a storm cloud.
"Blimey," Ron breathed, his face pale beneath his freckles. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. "What do we do? Should we tell Dumbledore?"
Harry hesitated, weighing the options. Dumbledore was powerful, yes, but there was so much the headmaster didn't know—or wouldn't do. No, they needed to start smaller, build a foundation of trust and skill before involving the adults. "We need help," he said firmly, decision made. "I think we should talk to Fred and George. They know more about the castle's secrets than anyone. And... I have a feeling they might have some tricks up their sleeves that could be useful."
Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Fred and George? Are you sure, mate? They're not exactly known for taking things seriously."
"That's precisely why we need them," Harry countered. "They think outside the box. And when it really matters, I bet they'll step up."
Hermione nodded slowly, warming to the idea. "They are incredibly clever, even if they don't always apply themselves to their studies. And they've managed to pull off some pretty impressive magic for their pranks."
"Right then," Ron said, a hint of his usual grin returning. "Let's go wake the terrible twosome. This ought to be interesting."
---
An hour later, the five of them were huddled in an empty classroom on the fourth floor. Harry had just finished recounting his vision to the twins, watching their usually jovial faces grow more serious with each word.
The room was dimly lit by the early morning sun filtering through dusty windows. Desks had been pushed aside to create a clear space in the center, where they now stood in a tight circle. The air was thick with tension and the gravity of the situation.
"Well, well, Harrykins," Fred said, a glint in his eye that belied the seriousness of his expression. "Seems you've got more tricks than we thought. Always knew you were special, but Seer visions? That's a new one."
George nodded, his expression unusually grim. "If what you saw is true, we're going to need every advantage we can get. No more messing about—this is the real deal."
"What kind of spells do you lot know?" Fred asked, looking around the group with keen interest. "Beyond the standard curriculum, I mean. Any secret talents you've been hiding?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, silently assessing their collective magical knowledge. "Well," Hermione began, her voice taking on the tone she often used when reciting from textbooks, "we've been practicing Expelliarmus and Stupefy quite extensively. They're simple but effective in a duel. And Harry's quite good with the Patronus Charm, of course."
The twins' eyebrows shot up in perfect synchronization. "Patronus Charm?" George whistled, clearly impressed. "That's N.E.W.T. level, that is. Been holding out on us, have you, Harry?"
Harry shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and unease. Sometimes his advanced knowledge still caught him off guard, a stark reminder of the life he had lived—or would live—in another timeline. "I've been practicing," he said simply. "But what about you two? I bet you know some pretty advanced magic. You can't pull off half the pranks you do without some serious skill."
Fred and George shared a mischievous look, a silent conversation passing between them. "We might have picked up a trick or two," Fred said casually, though there was an undercurrent of excitement in his voice.
"Like a way to control small objects with precision," George added, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Useful for pranks... or for more serious situations. Imagine being able to guide a small stone to hit a specific target from a distance, or manipulate a lock without touching it."
As the twins began describing some of their more advanced spellwork, Harry felt a surge of hope rising in his chest. With their combined knowledge and skills, they might just have a chance against whatever was coming.
"There's a variation of the Levitation Charm we've been working on," Fred explained, his voice animated. "Instead of just lifting objects, you can actually guide them with incredible precision. Took us ages to get it right, but it's dead useful."
George nodded enthusiastically. "And we've been experimenting with some shield charms that can deflect minor hexes. Nothing too powerful yet, but every little bit helps, right?"
As they continued brainstorming, discussing strategies and spells, Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration. She had been unusually quiet, absorbing all the information with her typical intensity.
"Harry," she interrupted, her voice tentative but determined. "Do you think... could you teach us the Patronus Charm? If there's a chance we'll encounter Dementors... well, we should all be prepared, shouldn't we?"
Harry nodded firmly, a warmth spreading through his chest at Hermione's initiative. This was why they were such a good team—always pushing each other, always striving to be better. "Of course," he said. "We should all be prepared. It's not an easy spell, but I know you can all do it."
Ron looked both excited and nervous at the prospect. "Blimey, a Patronus? That's some serious magic, that is. You really think we can learn it?"
"I know you can," Harry said with conviction. "It takes practice and concentration, but the key is finding a powerful, happy memory to fuel the spell. We'll work on it together."
As the group continued discussing potential defensive spells and strategies, Fred and George exchanged another significant look. There was a moment of silent communication between them, years of shared secrets and adventures allowing them to convey volumes with just a glance.
"You know, Harry," Fred said slowly, a hint of hesitation in his voice, "if we're really preparing for danger, there's something we think you should have. Something that could give us a real advantage."
George reached into his robes and pulled out a worn piece of parchment. The others leaned in, curiosity piqued by the twins' sudden seriousness. "We nicked this from Filch's office in our first year," George explained, his voice low as if sharing a great secret. "It's been a right useful tool for our... extracurricular activities. But I reckon you lot might need it more than we do now."
As the twins demonstrated how to activate the Marauder's Map, Harry felt a jolt of recognition course through him. How could he have forgotten about this incredible artifact? The memory of using it in his other life came flooding back, along with a renewed appreciation for its potential.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Fred intoned, tapping the parchment with his wand. Instantly, ink began to spread across the surface, revealing the intricate layout of Hogwarts castle.
"This is brilliant," Harry breathed, watching the tiny dots representing people move about the castle. His eyes darted across the map, taking in secret passages he had forgotten about, hidden rooms he had never explored. "With this, we can keep an eye on any suspicious activity in the castle. We'll be able to see if anyone tries to sneak in."
Ron leaned in, his eyes wide with awe. "Wicked! We'll be able to see if anyone like Sirius Black tries to get in again. And look at all these secret passages! I had no idea there were so many ways in and out of the castle."
Hermione, ever practical, was already analyzing the map's strategic value. "This could be incredibly useful for setting up patrols or identifying vulnerable areas. We should make note of all these secret entrances and ensure they're properly secured."
As they pored over the map, pointing out interesting features and discussing potential weak points in the castle's defenses, Harry's mind was racing. The map was a game-changer, no doubt about it, but they still needed more help. More knowledge, more experience...
"I think," he said slowly, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind, "we need to talk to Professor Lupin."
The others looked at him in surprise, momentarily distracted from their examination of the map. "The Defense teacher?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed. "Why him specifically? I mean, he's brilliant, of course, but..."
Harry hesitated, careful not to reveal too much about Lupin's connection to the map or his own past—future?—relationship with the professor. "He seems... trustworthy," he said carefully. "And knowledgeable. If anyone can help us prepare for what's coming, it's him. Plus, he's already been teaching me the Patronus Charm. I think he'd be willing to help us learn more advanced defense spells."
As the group debated the merits of involving a teacher, weighing the need for adult guidance against the risk of being shut down or not taken seriously, Harry felt a familiar mix of determination and anxiety settling in his chest. They were taking the first steps towards preparing for the danger he knew was coming. But would it be enough?
The memory of his vision flashed through his mind again—Hogsmeade in chaos, buildings aflame, his friends in peril. He could almost smell the acrid smoke, hear the panicked screams... He pushed the image away forcefully, focusing on the here and now. One step at a time, he reminded himself. First, they'd speak to Lupin. Then, they'd start training in earnest.
"We should set up a regular training schedule," Hermione was saying, her organizational skills kicking into high gear. "But where could we practice without being discovered?"
Harry's mind raced, considering their options. Suddenly, an idea struck him—bold, perhaps a bit reckless, but potentially perfect. "The Chamber of Secrets," he said, his voice low but firm.
The others stared at him in shock.
"The Chamber?" Ron repeated, his face pale. "Mate, are you sure? That place is... well, it's not exactly cozy, is it?"
"It's perfect," Harry insisted. "It's huge, hidden, and no one else can access it. We'd have complete privacy to practice whatever spells we need."
Hermione nodded slowly, warming to the idea. "It does make sense strategically. But Harry, isn't it... well, rather filthy down there? And what about the basilisk remains?"
Harry grinned, a plan already forming. "Leave that to me. I think I know someone who can help." He closed his eyes, concentrating hard, and called out, "Dobby!"
With a loud crack, the house-elf appeared before them, his large eyes widening at the sight of Harry and his friends. "Harry Potter sir called for Dobby?" he squeaked, bouncing on his toes with excitement.
"Dobby, I need your help with something very important and very secret," Harry said, kneeling down to the elf's level. "Can you clean up the Chamber of Secrets for us? Make it safe and... well, as comfortable as possible?"
Dobby's eyes, if possible, grew even wider. "The Chamber of Secrets, sir? Dobby has heard whispers... But if Harry Potter asks, Dobby will do it! Dobby will make it shine!"
"Brilliant, Dobby. Thank you," Harry said warmly. "But remember, this has to stay absolutely secret. No one can know what you're doing or why."
Dobby nodded vigorously, his ears flapping. "Dobby understands, sir! Dobby will be silent as a shadow and quick as lightning!"
As Dobby disappeared with another crack, Fred let out a low whistle. "Well, that solves that problem. Handy little fellow, isn't he?"
George nodded, a mischievous glint returning to his eye. "And with the map to make sure we don't get caught sneaking around, this could actually work!"
As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the classroom windows, painting the stone walls with a warm, golden glow, Harry looked around at his friends—all of them now bound together by shared purpose and looming danger. Fred and George, their usual mischievous grins replaced by determined expressions. Ron, his face set with a resolve that made him look older than his years. Hermione, not her quick mind already mapping out training schedules and research plans.
A wave of affection and gratitude washed over Harry. Whatever was coming, they would face it together. They had knowledge, they had skills, and most importantly, they had each other. It wouldn't be easy, but they stood a fighting chance.
"Right," he said, rolling up the Marauder's Map and tucking it safely into his robes. The parchment felt warm against his chest, a tangible reminder of the tools and allies they had at their disposal. "Let's go find Professor Lupin. It's time to really start preparing."
As they filed out of the classroom, a new sense of purpose in their steps, Harry felt a glimmer of hope. The future was uncertain, filled with dangers he couldn't fully predict or prepare for. But he wasn't alone. And this time, armed with knowledge from another life and surrounded by friends willing to stand beside him, he was determined to change the course of events.
The corridors of Hogwarts were beginning to fill with sleepy students heading to breakfast, unaware of the plans being set in motion around them. As Harry and his friends made their way towards Lupin's office, he couldn't help but feel that this was the true beginning of their fight against the darkness that threatened their world.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would meet them head-on. Together.
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