taking control

Chapter 22: Driven to Distraction

He held no fear of death. He had danced around the spectre long enough that it held no sway over his emotions. In fact, if there was any emotion he could be said to be feeling right now, it would be relief. As much as he prided himself on the way he played this game, he was tired of playing. He supposed that was one way he could be considered the Dark Lord's superior, for death was the only fear the Dark Lord knew.

As they approached the front entrance, the Dark Lord lifted a hand, and the doors crashed open. A patter of footsteps provided a precursor to Scrimgeour's arrival, his wand already drawn as he rounded a corner and looked to their position. His eyes widened as he realised who was intruding upon his home, but, to the man's credit, he did not flee. Instead, he assumed a duelling stance and prepared to fend off their attacks.

The Dark Lord laughed, and, as Severus drew his wand, he wondered what the hell had happened to the Order.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice rang out above the bustle as the students all packed up at the end of class. "Might I have a quick word with you?"

Harry smiled at his friends. "I'll see you guys later." He stepped to the side as they all passed by, rolling his eyes at Ron's sympathetic glance and Hermione's inquisitive one. He remained behind his desk until the rows in front of him had all cleared out. When the door closed behind the last of his classmates, Harry approached the professor's desk.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked warmly.

"Fine, thanks," Harry responded automatically. A moment later he realised the reason for her question and added, "I haven't had many visions lately, so I've been sleeping fairly well."

"That's good," she said with a smile. "I must confess that it concerned me when you stumbled into Headquarters in the middle of our Order meeting a couple nights back. I feared you might still be experiencing your visions on a frequent basis."

"I tend to get them whenever Voldemort is feeling any strong emotions. It happens a lot when he's involved in an attack," Harry explained. "He enjoys them a lot." After a momentary pause, he continued, "But ever since he began worrying about a possible spy, he's been participating less."

"That must come as a relief to you," she commented.

"Yes, very much so," Harry replied. A short silence followed his statement prompting Harry to ask, "Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

She shook her head. "No, I wished to inform you of my intent to visit your classes this Sunday and wondered if you might have time for a short meeting after the latter lesson."

"Ah, yes, that would be fine," Harry stated. "Actually, that might work out well." At her curious glance, Harry explained, "I've been making plans to restructure my Intermediate class to focus more heavily on combat situations. I was a little worried about how it would work, but if you'll be there I think that will help things run more smoothly."

"What are your plans?" Minerva asked curiously.

"Well, here's what I was thinking..."

His discussion with Minerva ended up lasting all the way to the beginning of lunch. By the time he arrived, the meal was already being served. Ron, even, was finishing off his first plate and reaching for seconds.

Harry gave a tiny wave to Ginny who was sitting with her friends before settling in beside Neville and across from Hermione. "Hey guys," he greeted warmly as he began reaching for a plate of sandwiches.

"Hey Harry," Neville returned.

Ron gave an indecipherable, food-muffled reply, earning himself a short, reproachful stare from Hermione, who then turned to Harry and said, "Hello Harry. What did Professor McGonagall want to see you about?"