Chapter 230: Aurelia

"That room. . . The black corridor. . . It was the department of mysteries. . . I saw it when I was at the Ministry with Mr. Weasley," Harry said cheerfully. "I have been dreaming about a windowless corridor ending in a locked door for months, without once realizing that it was a real place. . . It was the same place I saw Mr. Weasley getting attacked. . . The Prophecy is there, isn't it?"

A stunned silence met Harry's words. Chris looked disappointed and Aurelia looked shocked. Harry wasn't expecting this reaction, his smile vanished as he realized what he just said.

"How do you know about the Prophecy?" Aurelia asked sharply.

"I — well, we —" Harry helplessly looked at Chris.

"Dumbledore told me and I told him," sighed Chris.

"But Dumbledore asked us to —" Aurelia looked more shocked.

"Maybe Dumbledore forgot to tell you?" Harry suggested.

Chris glared at Harry then turned to Aurelia.

"Actually, no one supposed to know what's in the Prophecy other than Harry. Maybe that's why Dumbledore thought it would be best if no one knows that Harry knows about it."

"That — doesn't make any sense," Aurelia said.

"Well, Dumbledore doesn't make any sense either," said Harry.

"True," Aurelia sighed. "But Prophecy apart Harry, you aren't supposed to have these dreams. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"I — I'm sorry, I'm trying — I know I've to close my mind and — I am trying,—" mumbled Harry.

Aurelia conjured two chairs out of thin air.

"Sit, Harry," she said sitting on a chair.

Still looking down Harry sat down. They were face to face. Chris tried to leave but Aurelia signed her to sit as well.

"Do you know Harry, why didn't you able to master Occlumency yet?" Aurelia asked quietly.

"Because I can't close my mind, I can't control my emotions. You asked me clear my mind every time but I just fail —"

"No Harry, you don't fail, every time I get inside your head I can feel your resistance," Aurelia squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I really do. It's true that you aren't doing great but it's not a completely bad thing. I know it's hard for you to close up your feelings, especially when so much had happened to you. Those things can traumatize anyone for life."

"But Chris is fine," Harry said with a trembling voice, without looking up.

"Chris — is a different person, Harry," said Aurelia strictly. "You both are not same. At least not entirely. Now listen here, there is nothing to be ashamed of your feelings. Always remember you are lucky to feel, you are lucky that you can be happy in your friends' happiness, you can be sad for them, that you can live for yourself and others. There are lots of people who can't do that, trust me."

"What do you mean?" Harry finally looked up and Chris was surprised to see tears in Harry's eyes.

Aurelia smiled at him.

"This year you will finish your O. W. L.s, right? So if Hermione gets better marks than you, will you be truly happy for her?"

"If? She is bound to get better numbers than me," Harry smiled. "And of course, I'll be happy for her."

"Do you think the death eaters will be happy if one of them do something better?" Aurelia asked next.

Harry thought about it for a moment then said, "No."

"Do you see what I mean? Your emotions, friendship, love, they are your strengths, Harry, not your weakness. No matter what anyone says, never forget that. Your heart makes you, who you are." Aurelia placed her hand on Harry's head. "Remember learning Occlumency doesn't mean you have to change yourself. You just have to think differently. Now on, you will close your mind before going to sleep for your friends around you. Just think you're learning this for the people you care. Alright?"

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Harry nodded.

"She is really nice, isn't she?" Harry said as he and Chris walked towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Huh?" Chris was deep in thought about the things Aurelia said.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, sorry," Chris sighed. "What were your saying?"

"I said Aurelia is really great, I like her, what do you think?"

"Yes, she is nice," Chris tried to smile but failed.

"Chris, you are not okay," Harry said.

"I was just thinking about the things Aurelia said. It's kind of weird, you know, I always thought showing your feelings makes you look weak."

"They don't, that's what Aurelia said," Harry looked surprised.

"I know that's what I'm thinking."

"Is it about Dames?" Harry asked quietly.

Chris didn't reply, she just walked looking ahead.

"I never thought you're weak, Chris," said Harry. "In fact, I always saw you giving strength to others, you can't do that if you are weak, can you?"

Chris found a smile spreading on her face.

"You should know, a lot of people look up to you but they are also your friends, so I don't think, they will find you weak if you show your feelings," Harry finished.

"Thanks, Harry," Chris smiled looking back at him. She was about to say something else when — a woman screamed from somewhere the floor below them.

"What the — ?" Chris and Harry gasped together then ran downstairs clutching their wands tightly.

There was another scream and they realised it was coming from the entrance hall. When they reached the top Chris found the entrance hall packed. Students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. She and Harry pushed through the Ravenclaws and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened.

"What's going on?" 

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the entrance hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at — Umbridge.

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To be continued. . .