Year Six

Author’s Note: This is, unfortunately, the last chapter with an attack sequence (I LOVE writing action
as you can tell). After this chapter I’m afraid you will have to wait awhile for this level of drama because
the students will be at Hogwarts where they are considerably safer, and the focus will shift from the
dangers of war to learning of Voldemort’s past. So prepare to slow down just a bit. For those of you who
hate reading action and think there are too many attacks in the war – er – story, you will be thrilled.

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            “When I read we were at war,” Harry heard Ron say, “I didn’t think it’d be like this.”

            “What do you mean?” Ginny said.

            “You know...us getting attacked and stuff.”

            “Don’t be stupid,” Ginny said, sounding annoyed. “That’s what war is, Ron, attacks, death, destruction. When it happens on home soil, you can’t expect to just read about it in the papers and never see it. Especially if you’ve been made a target by the enemy, like we have.”

            “You mean like Hermione has,” Ron said, sounding worried. “I can’t believe Bellatrix Lestrange came for you, Hermione, personally!”

            “No one is safe,” Luna’s voice said, “except the Blue Wopples, and other Dark creatures You-Know-Who is breeding. I’m sure he has an entire army of those just waiting to spring on the public. Right out of the ground while you walk in your garden!”

            Harry heard Hermione heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ll hate myself for asking this Luna, but, what are Blue Wopples?”

            “Blue Wopples are very cunning little creatures that live in planting soil, and they look like small blue turnips,” said Dumbledore’s aged and distinct voice. “They’re very dangerous as they feed on human bones. They have a mouthful of very sharp teeth and two tiny claws on each hand. They spring out of the soil, rip through a persons shoes and burrow into the flesh, eating only the bones and leaving the body a mass of limp and lifeless flesh.”

            “My God!” Hermione said, sounding genuinely horrified.

            “Rest assured,” Dumbledore said, and Harry had to fight down a grin at the amusement in Dumbledore’s voice, “no one has seen a Blue Wopple in over a thousand years. They’re believed to be…”

            “Mythological?” Ginny said, sounding on the verge of giggling.

            “They are not mythological!” Luna said in an excited voice, seeming to take Dumbledore’s exposition on the Blue Wopple as validation for her claims. “Even Professor Dumbledore knows of them.”

            “I was going to say extinct,” Dumbledore finished. “Now let us return our attention to more important matters, as Harry has awakened.”

“Harry?”

            Harry opened his eyes. Hermione was kneeling beside him, while Ron, Luna, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Dumbledore had taken seats around the room and were all looking at him. He was in his bed at the Burrow.

            “What happened?” He asked, taking inventory of his body. He seemed fine, if not a little tired, and a small amount of pain in his chest when he inhaled.

            “You were cursed,” Luna said matter-of-factly, as if this sort of thing were a normal part of everyday life. “But you’re all better now. Professor Dumbledore treated you.”

            “Harry?” Hermione said, squeezing his hand. “How do you feel?”

            “I’ll be alright.” The more he moved the more he realized that his chest felt sore, as though someone had kicked him there.

            “The pain will ease,” Dumbledore said. “You’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.”

            “Mr. Weasley? The Quibbler?”

            “Arthur will be fine,” Mr. Weasley said, “he’s resting in our room, but one of the press operators was killed.”

            “What about Lestrange?”

            “She escaped,” Ron said. “I’ve never seen anyone Disapparate so fast. But Professor Dumbledore captured her five mates. The Death Eaters who hadn’t come in got away.”

            They spent a few minutes talking about the attack and why Lestrange wanted to come after Hermione specifically, but no one had any answers that sounded even reasonably valid.

            “Maybe the prophecy was about Hermione?”

            “Don’t be thick, Ron,” Hermione said, frowning. “Do I have a curse scar?”

            “I just meant,” Ron said, going red in the face and his eyes getting bright. Harry groaned inwardly. He didn’t feel like listening to another row between Ron and Hermione, not with his chest aching with every breath he inhaled. “That maybe he changed his mind and wants to come after you.”

            “There’s no good reason for him to ‘change his mind’, Ron.”

            “Obviously he has, he sent that Lestrange woman to fetch you, didn’t he?”

            “You don’t change your mind about a prophecy!”

            “You would if you think you made a mistake the first time around! I mean, we don’t know what the prophecy said. Maybe he found out he made a mistake going after Harry somehow and-”

            “Of course he made a mistake, it almost got him killed. He’s never had a reason to come after me before.”

            “But he has now!” Ron said, getting to his feet, Hermione did likewise. “You’re just too scared to admit you’re a target!”

            “So what?” Hermione said, her voice dripping with disgust, “Lord Voldemort himself decided I was a threat to his plans for world domination? I’m sorry, but you’re being ridiculous. I didn’t survive the Avada Kedavra curse, Harry did. My name wasn’t on the prophecy, Harry’s was.”

           

            “But you’re obviously important to all this somehow!”

            “Ron-”

            “That is quite enough,” Dumbledore said quietly, almost conversationally. A bomb might have exploded outside for all the effect it had. The room was silent, while Ron and Hermione continued to glare at one another.

            “I think we should leave Harry to get his rest now,” Dumbledore said, and though the room quickly emptied, he remained behind. “Ron, Hermione, would you mind remaining behind?”

            “Certainly, professor,” said an agitated Hermione. Harry thought she was shaken by Ron’s words and had taken them to heart. She came back and perched at the foot of Harry’s bed; Ron leaned against the door, while Professor Dumbledore placed his elbows on his knees, looking thoughtful.

            “I ascertained from their recent…discussion…that you have not told them about the Prophecy?”

            Harry gulped guiltily. Hermione had had enough to deal with on her own, and they’d been enjoying their summer so much, he hadn’t wanted to spoil it for either her or Ron. “No, sir, I haven’t.”

            “Told us what?” Hermione asked, looking especially alarmed now. Ron’s eyes had never been so wide.

            “The Prophecy that was smashed at the Department of Mysteries. It said…” Harry began, but his voice trailed off.

            “Would you prefer that I told them?” Dumbledore asked, but Harry quickly shook his head. He’d shirked this responsibility long enough. He took a deep breath, sat up in bed, and told them what the prophecy had said. By the time he was finished Hermione was pale, Ron had his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

            “Oh, Harry,” Hermione said quietly, studying him with wide eyes. “Harry…I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

            “So much bad stuff has been going on, attacks every single day, people dying left and right. Fun has been hard to come by and I didn’t want to ruin your summer.”

            “Don’t be silly, mate!” Ron said in a high-pitched voice, still hugging himself as if he were cold. “So…so…you’re the only one who can kill him then? You-Know-Who?”

            “Yeah, it looks that way.”

            “So it’s not about Hermione after all. That’s good,” Ron said. “But it’s about you and that’s not good.”

            “You know we’re here for you, Harry” Hermione said. “We’ll stay right by your side, all the way through it.”

            “Too right we will,” Ron said fiercely. “What I don’t understand is why they’re after Hermione,” Ron said. “Harry’s the one who will have to kill him.”

            “It isn’t just Hermione they are after,” Dumbledore said. He explained to Ron and Hermione his belief that Harry’s ability to love is what will save him in the end, and those closest to Harry, the ones who’d joined the DA and especially the ones who’d joined him at the Department of Mysteries will most likely be targeted, because they are the ones he loves the most.

            Ron worked this information in his mind. “So, Harry has to fall in love to defeat Voldemort? He needs a girlfriend?”

            Dumbledore chuckled, and even Hermione managed a nervous smile, though she never took her eyes off Harry, and she laid a hand on his leg. The weight of her touch was warm and comforting.

            “There are many kinds of love, Ron,” Dumbledore said. “Romantic love is only one, though that, in itself, is very powerful indeed. It is Harry’s ability to feel love that sets him apart and above his adversary. Romantic love, the love of a brother, the love that only friendship can bring, the love of a parent for a child…Harry will need all of these various forms of love in his life if he is to overcome the great evil that is in Voldemort. You will have to work hard,” Dumbledore said, “to keep the bonds of friendship between you strong over the coming months and years, for it is love, in its many incarnations that will overcome evil in the end.”

            “There is one thing that worries me,” Harry said. “I haven’t felt anything from Voldemort through my scar. Not since the night before you fetched me from the Dursley’s.”

            “He’s keeping you out,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “I’m not surprised. He will want to make sure you do not see his plans and ruin them anymore than you already have. We will talk more of that, Harry, during our private lessons at school. As for you,” Dumbledore stood and laid a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “You will be safe at Hogwarts, Hermione.”

            “What about the ride to Hogwarts, Professor?” Harry asked. “Won’t we be vulnerable then?”

            “Yes, I’m afraid you will, but it cannot be helped. I have met with resistance from Fudge regarding the use of the Floo Network to transfer students to and from school instead of the train this year.”

“He’s still resisting your advice?” Harry said, frowning, “after all that’s happened he still refuses to listen to you?”

“That surprises you?” Ron said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in with Voldemort.

Hermione sighed but thankfully did not argue. Apparently she didn’t want any unfavorable attention from Dumbledore.

“Since the Floo Network is not available for mass transfers to the school, members of the Order of the Phoenix will be stationed on the train,” Dumbledore said. “Now, all of you should get some rest. You will have to be up early to catch the train.”

            Ron and Hermione left the room, while Dumbledore went to the window and stood looking out into the mists.

            “Sir?” Harry asked, going to stand beside him. “How…how did you know we were under attack at the Quibbler?

            Dumbledore looked down at Harry.  “I am very glad you asked me that, Harry. You’re able to remember what happened?”

            “Yes. I saw you, standing and patting Fawkes on the head. Then I was hit by a curse and you were there. How…how did I…”

            “Harry, your powers are growing at a rate unlike any I have seen before,” Dumbledore said. He sounded almost uneasy. “Outside of one other.”

            “Let me guess,” Harry said miserably. “Voldemort.” He loathed being compared to his enemy.

            “Yes,” Dumbledore said, nodding. “I was standing in my office, exactly as you saw me, and I felt your mind enter mine. I had a brief glimpse of you, standing ghost like in the center of my desk. You said ‘Help us. We’re dying.’ Then you were gone. I had no idea where you were up until I saw you.”

            “How did you know where to come?”

            “Magic leaves a trail, Harry, and the magic you’d performed was very powerful indeed. It was easy to follow it straight to you when I Apparated. You have an extraordinary mind, Harry. I hope that I will be able to help you train those powers over the coming year. There is much to learn, and little time in which to do it. Now, get some rest. Once you are back at school, we will begin your lessons, and you will learn more about yourself and your potential. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight, Professor,” Harry said. He tried to let Dumbledore’s promises of study and self-exploration soothe him, but he wasn’t able to relax that evening. He wanted to know why he was able to do the things he did, how he was able to contact Dumbledore the way he had.

That night Harry’s dreams were filled with uneasy images of his parents, his mother dying for him, Hermione in the burning house, and Professor Snape sitting in a dark room with Draco Malfoy, deep in a discussion. Though Harry couldn’t make out their words, watching them left him a chill that touched him to his soul. 

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            Torrential rain deluged the Burrow, adding to the strange mists which had returned and making it so thick that Harry couldn’t even see the cars provided by the Order of the Phoenix, even though they were only thirty or so feet from the house. The walkway had been turned into a pool and the ground was nothing but sludge.

            “Be safe,” Mrs. Weasley said, kissing Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and then Harry. “Keep your wands at the ready dears.”

Harry thought he’d never seen Mrs. Weasley look so worried, and even Mr. Weasley, who was standing in the pouring rain with a Muggle umbrella, white with cheery looking yellow rubber duckies, kept casting worried glances back at them. Harry suddenly had a sense of foreboding about this years trip to Hogwarts, and anger seethed in his gut for Fudge. How was it that fool was still in office, when he was putting children’s lives in danger? It wouldn’t be any hassle at all to allow the students to use the Floo Network to get to school.

            “Crookshanks!” Hermione said in exasperation, setting the handle of her trunk down and wrestling the animal into the carryall she’d purchased in the village over the summer. “Be good and get into the case, you stupid animal.”

            Crookshanks meowed at those words and looked wounded at Hermione, who was immediately regretful. “Oh, Crookshanks, Mum’s sorry. I didn’t mean it darling. Be a good boy, will you, and get into the case for me? Please?”

            Crookshanks gave her one last reproachful look but trotted willingly into the carryall.

            Harry and the others would have been soaked in seconds had a tearful Mrs. Weasley not put water repelling charms over them on their way out the door. Instead the water bounced off of them as if they were under an umbrella, though Harry’s feet and the bottom of his trouser legs were soaked through by the time his trunk was stowed into the car.

            The ride to King’s Cross was slightly different this year as they had to stop by Luna’s home, which was located beside the Quibbler offices, to pick her up. Ron, Harry saw, suddenly smiled brightly. Harry looked and it took all of his willpower not to laugh when Luna emerged from her house wearing a yellow raincoat and large, yellow galoshes that looked three sizes too large for her. She did a sort of wobble-walk to the car with an older gentleman who was tall with blond hair and a lanky frame. Her father, Priam, Harry assumed, since he hadn’t gotten to meet Luna’s father during that fateful visit the day before. He was speaking avidly to her. Luna nodded at everything he said, and then kissed him on the cheek before climbing into the car across from Ron while her father packed her school trunk into the rear of the car.

            “Good morning,” Luna said.

            “Morning Luna. I like your boots,” Ron said, beaming at her. Luna smiled mistily back and Hermione tapped Harry’s foot, while Ginny giggled. Ron’s face went red when he realized Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all smiling at him. Clearing his throat, he nodded at the Quibbler offices. “The damage to the office is quite bad.”

            “Oh, isn’t it?” Luna said conversationally, as if he’d commented on the beauty of a statue in a museum. “The presses have been repaired. We were able to get this morning’s edition out on time.”

            “You still printed?” Ginny asked, looking shocked. “Someone died there yesterday!”

            “The truth must be told,” Luna said, blinking at Ginny with her protuberant eyes. She seemed to be genuinely confused at Ginny’s shock. “We have a duty to the public, don’t we?”

            “I suppose,” Ginny said, frowning.

            “I think it’s admirable,” Ron said seriously, earning an eye roll from Ginny. “Well, I do! Priam can’t let the Death Eaters intimidate him.”

            “I agree,” Hermione said. “The Quibbler has proven itself to be the one true voice of reason in the Wizarding world. They must go on, at all cost.”

            Harry grinned, however, when he saw Hermione cover a snicker with her hand. Harry, like Hermione, still had a hard time believing that the Quibbler had become the voice of reason in the Wizarding world. My how things change, Harry thought.

~

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            The Hogwarts Express, Harry was relieved to see, was warm and dry. Mr. Weasley and several other members of the Order were all waiting on the platform by the time he emerged with Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny in tow.

            “Ginny! Over here!” called a familiar voice.

            “Dean!” Ginny’s face lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw him, and she rushed forward, straight into his open arms. Dean looked, Harry was relieved to see, like his old self again, showing no signs of having nearly died only a month or so before.

            “Icght,” Ron said with mild disgust, watching Ginny and Dean kissing. “Come on you two, knock it off!”

            “I think it’s sweet,” Luna said, watching them fondly, her face as dreamy as her voice. “Haven’t you ever wanted someone to run into your arms to kiss you?”

            “That is an excellent question Luna,” Hermione said with false innocence and a bright smile. “So tell us Ron, haven’t you? I mean, surely you’d like to snog someone we know.” She bumped into him hard, knocking him into Luna, who was gazing raptly at him.

            Ron’s ears, face and neck, Harry noted, were now almost as red as the Gryffindor scarf about his neck. His voice came out in a near squeak as he said “Shut up, Hermione. Let’s just get on the train.”

            He nudged Ginny in the back as he passed and she pried herself away from Dean, who went to retrieve her trunk. “I’m already settled in. I’ve got seats saved for us,” Dean said. “Er…Well, with Seamus and a few of the guys, I mean.”

            “It’s alright,” Harry said. “Luna and I will find seats. Glad to see you’re back on your feet, Dean.”

            “Thanks, mate. Glad to be back.”

            Dean and Ginny strode away arm in arm, and Harry thought he’d never seen Ginny look so happy, or her face so bright. She positively glowed. Once on the train, Hermione looked back at Harry.

            “I have to go-”

            “To the Prefect carriage, I know,” Harry said.

            “Ron and I will see you as soon as we can. Save us a seat?”

            “Of course.”

            Harry watched Hermione disappear down the center aisle, and a feeling of loss settled over him like a fog, getting heavier with every step she took away. He looked away, startled to see Luna watching him intently, as if he were a fascinating new species of bug.

            “She won’t be gone long,” Luna said.

            “I know,” Harry answered, somewhat defensively. What was Luna trying to imply? Hermione was his friend, and she was a target of Voldemort as much as he was, if not more so, now. He had every right to be concerned about her. It didn’t mean anything special. “Let’s go find seats.”

            “Hi Harry.”

            Harry was surprised when Cho Chang stepped out of a compartment in front of him.

            “Cho, hi,” he said, relieved that his stomach no longer did odd little flip flops when he saw her. It would seem he was finally over his crush on her. She looked a bit pink on the face, but there was no puffiness about her eyes and no signs she’d recently been crying. Her friend, Marietta Edgecombe, was also nowhere in sight.

            “Good to see you again,” she said.

            “Er, yeah, you too.”

            “Are we doing the DA meetings this year?”

            “I guess not. I mean, we’ll be having a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and there’s really no point.”

            Cho looked mildly disappointed, but she perked up immediately and spoke to Luna. “Hi Luna. I heard about your offices. I’m so sorry. I’m glad you’re okay though.”

            “Thank you,” Luna said. “Harry, I think I see an empty compartment ahead.”

            “Well…I’ll see you then,” Harry said.

            “I hope so,” Cho said.

            Harry was enormously relieved to have an excuse to say his good-bye’s to Cho. They hadn’t ended their relationship very well, and he found it extremely awkward to be around her now. She sank back into her own compartment where, Harry saw, Michael Corner was giving him a filthy look. Harry moved on, past a group of giggling fourth year Hufflepuff girls who were staring avidly at him and into a compartment that had only one other occupant: Neville Longbottom.

            “Hi, Harry,” Neville said happily, holding on to his toad, Neville, with one hand, while pushing his trunk into the overhead compartment with his other.

            “Neville,” Harry said, hefting his own trunk up before turning to help Luna with hers. “How is your Grandmother?”

            “She’s recovering well. She’s back home where some of my cousins have come to care for her.”

            “And you?” Luna asked, watching him unblinkingly. Neville seemed to wilt under her stare and gave a quiet “I’m okay.”

            They passed a couple of hours talking about the latest news, with Luna filling them in on some details that hadn’t been released in the papers, such as the deaths of two goblin families in Cunningham, and the arrest of the Chudley Cannon’s Seeker for being a Death Eater.

            “Ron will be terribly disappointed to hear that,” Luna said in her misty voice, shaking her head dreamily.

            The words had no sooner left her mouth when the train lurched beneath them and began to slow. In a few moments it came to a complete halt. A feeling of dread clenched Harry’s stomach as suddenly his scar burned white hot. He clapped a hand to his forehead. Trouble was coming.

            “What’s wrong with your head?” Neville asked.

            “Nothing,” Harry said, “my scar.”

            “I think, perhaps, we may be in for a spot of trouble,” Luna said almost casually, taking her wand out from behind her ear. Harry looked out of the rain streaked windows into the grayish mist and saw the tracks curve ahead. The train was stuck on a trestle, which was over a very steep drop, which meant that the student’s couldn’t be evacuated to flee on foot if they had to. Above that, glowing bright green amongst the rainy mists, was the Dark Mark.

            Not them again, Harry thought miserably.

            “Oh…,” Neville moaned. What looked like a line of black birds flew from beneath the Mark, but soon it became apparent the black spots were not birds at all. They were dementors, hundreds of them, and they were all heading straight for the train.

            “I’d say a lot more than a spot,” Harry said.

            “Stay calm,” came a vaguely familiar voice. Harry looked up as several first years began to cry in the corridor. The lights flickered and went out, but not before he saw Boris Tempton stop outside his compartment door.

            “Alright in here?” Tempton asked, lighting his wand.

            “Not really,” Neville said. He gulped audibly, “I will b-be, though.”

            “Good man,” Tempton said. “Harry, you can conjure a Patronus Charm, can you not?”

            “Yes sir,” Harry said.

            “Good. Follow me to the rear of the train please. We’ll be stepping outside shortly to-”

            Tempton was cut off by a scream. There were several loud thudding sounds as the dementors landed on the train. Harry was surprised. He’d always assumed that they had physical bodies, but they looked so willowy and light, not at all the sort of creatures who’d cause the heavy thuds that were striking the train above, as well as striking fear into the hearts of all who heard them.

“They’re coming in!” said a small, squeaky voice of a second year girl in the corridor behind Tempton.

            “Expecto Patronum!” Harry recognized Tonks’ voice. He saw a flash of light, and what was very clearly a shining silver werewolf loped quickly down the corridor and faded from sight, soon followed by a loud screech. “How many times must I say it, people?” came Tonks’ annoyed voice. “Use the Anisocius locking charm!”

            Luna, for whatever reason, bolted past Harry, Neville hot on her heels, and ran down the corridor.

            “Young lady!” Tempton said. “Where do you think you’re going?”

            “I’m in the DA!” she said, as if that should mean something to Tempton. The small smile that tugged at Harry’s lips was wiped away by a feeling of intense cold. He saw his breath fog up in the light of Temptons’ wand, and heard a loud thumping noise behind him. He turned and found three dementors gazing in the window, and his blood ran cold in his veins.

            “I want my Mum!” a frightened first year girl said, trembling and holding herself. “I want to go home! I want Mum!”

            “You’ll be alright,” Ginny said, appearing out of the darkness. She hugged the girl, who looked more like she was eight than eleven by the size of her, close. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

            “Harry, mate,” Dean said from behind her. He looked a bit gray in the face. “They’re all over the train.”

            “I know,” Harry said, “Remember what we learned last year? Use it now.”

            “Easy for you to say,” Ginny said, looking as scared as the little girl she’d sworn to protect. “You’ve fought them before. We’ve only practiced in a bright cheery room.”

            Children crying, older students shuddering in the cold, all of it conspired to transport Harry back to a time three years before when the train had been stopped and dementors had entered the Hogwarts Express to search for his godfather, Sirius Black. Only this time the dementors, Harry knew, intended to do a lot more than search.

            “Harry,” Tempton said. “We have got to hold off the dementors until the train engines can be repaired and we can get rolling again. If they get on board, they’ll feast on the souls of these innocent children.”

            “I understand sir.”

            “Good. Follow me.”

            Harry followed Tempton down the corridor toward the rear of the train, but he’d gotten no more than a few steps when his vision blurred, as it had in the hospital. An image of Luna, pressed against the wall, with a dementor’s scaly hand trying to prize open her mouth was superimposed over Tempton’s back.

            “Luna!” Harry shouted, he and bolted past Tempton despite his protests.

            “They’re coming inside!” another voice shouted. “Get the children into the compartments!”

            Harry shoved his way past several people and found Neville Longbottom aiming his wand at an approaching dementor, sweat streaming down his face despite the icy air as he did his best to ward off the dementor trying to prize open Luna’s mouth. “Expecto…Expecto…”

            Harry focused on an image of Sirius Black giving a bark-like laugh as he sang God Reste Ye Merry Hippogriff during his last Christmas, at Grimmauld Place. The joy in Sirius’ face filled him with a powerful sense of love and happiness. He aimed his wand and shouted “Expecto Patronum!”

            A silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand and rushed forward, catching the dementor attacking Luna with its antlers and knocking it away. The Patronus was so large, so bright, that several people screamed and fell away, trying to shield their eyes from the light. Dementors who’d poured in through the front of the train now retreated as the silver stag chased them down.

            Luna slid to the floor and Neville crawled over to her. Not waiting to see if she was alright, Harry turned and ran back toward Tempton. Every once in awhile he saw flashes of silver from the wands of the Order members who’d boarded the train at King’s Cross. Michael Corner, he saw, managed a Patronus that warded off two dementors attempting to enter through a broken window to his compartment.

            “Hermione, Ron!” Harry said, finding the two of them in the corridor. Ron was on the floor in a dead faint, blood trickling from his head, a frightening amount of it pooling by his temple. Hermione’s wand tip glowed golden as she knelt beside him, performing a healing charm to stop the bleeding.

            “What happened?”

            “Death Eaters,” Hermione said. “They’re on broomsticks, breaking windows, trying to get inside. I can’t believe this is happening again.”

            She was right, Harry saw. In several compartments he heard people scream as the windows broke and Death Eaters tried to crawl inside, hexing those who tried to duel with them. Hermione looked him in the eye and for some reason all the noise seemed to mute. There was only her face, and her voice. “This is…this is bad,” she said softly.

            “We’re at war,” he replied. “That’s always bad.”

            “There she is! Take her!”

            Pain suddenly filled Harry’s head as he was knocked to the floor. He heard Hermione scream and looked up to see a masked Death Eater had grabbed her about the waist and was running toward the rear of the train. She struggled uselessly in his grip, unable to fight as she had dropped her wand.

            “Hermione!”

            Harry fired off a trip jinx but it missed. He tried to get up and run after her, but a booted foot shoved him to the floor of the train. He pushed in vain against the boot and looked up to find himself staring at the business end of another Death Eater’s wand.

            “Avada Kedav-”

            His words were cut off as several deep gashes appeared across his face and chest, causing blood to spray everywhere, drenching Harry in the process. The Death Eater fell back and Tonks appeared over Harry, offering him a hand. “Harry, are you alright?”

            “They took Hermione!” Harry said. He was angry that he felt so wobbly on his own legs. His body didn’t want to respond to his commands as quickly as he needed it to. Tonks seemed to be swerving in front of him. Without question, she took off in the direction he pointed, and Harry followed after. He heard Hermione scream and Harry urged his leaden feet to pick up the pace.

            Harry shoved past a few second years and saw Hermione gripping the banister to the front entrance of the train, but her fingers were slipping. With a mighty heave the Death Eater holding her pulled her free and tried to push her onto a flying carpet where another Death Eater waited to grab her. At that exact moment, Ernie McMillan aimed over Tonks’ shoulder and shouted “Expellimelius!”

            The flying carpet caught fire and the Death Eater reaching for Hermione fell back to avoid the flames, but being close to the edge he toppled over and screamed as he fell to his death. Hermione narrowly avoided being tossed head first into the flaming carpet, and without the second Death Eater to catch her she, too, went toppling over the edge of the tracks, hanging upside down over a sheer seventy five foot drop with only the Death Eater who’d captured her to hold her by one ankle.

            “Wait!” Tonks said, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. The Death Eater holding Hermione looked young and scared from what Harry could see of his face beneath the half mask. “Stay calm.”

            “I won’t let you take me!” he said, his voice very young indeed. He’d probably graduated Hogwarts only a year or so before from the sound of him. Harry wondered if he’d recognize him without the mask. Movement caught his eye from the left and he saw the expanse of the train was swarmed with dementors, looking like overgrown bats, trying to work their way into the train to get at the students inside.

            What are we going to do? Harry wondered, extremely angry at Ernie for setting the carpet on fire at the moment he did.

            “Harry!” Hermione shouted. Harry felt he’d be sick. He was already dizzy from the blow he’d taken to the head, and he was frustrated as once again Hermione was in danger and all he could do was stand helplessly by and watch.

            “No, you won’t be taken,” Tonks said.

            “I won’t go to Azkaban!”

            “You don’t have to. We can make a deal,” Tonks said.

            “Auror’s don’t deal!”

            “This Auror does,” Tonks said. “Give me the girl, and you can ride out of here.”

            Harry hoped the boy didn’t get the bright idea to Apparate, or better still, didn’t know how to.

            “Accio broom,” the boy said. A broom floating nearby flew over to him. He climbed on while Tonks waited, still as a statue. He tried to haul Hermione up, and had her half-way when Ernie poked his head back out.

            “I’ll get her,” Ernie said, sticking his wand out between Harry and Tonks’ heads. The Death Eater holding Hermione took Ernie’s actions as a threat and to Harry’s horror, he let Hermione’s ankle go and flew off into the mists.

            “NO!” Harry shouted. Without thinking, he dove forward as Hermione screamed. Her fingers caught the edge of a railroad tie and Harry grabbed her wrist as Tonks grabbed one of his ankles with both hands. Harry looked back and saw Tonks gagging as Ernie had taken a handful of her robes about the neck trying to keep her from toppling out of the train. If Ernie or Tonks lost their grip, both he and Hermione were dead.

            Harry hooked his free foot into the track, and grabbed onto the train with his left hand. He looked into Hermione’s wide, frightened eyes. The fall was so far, and he felt her wrist slowly slipping slowly through his fingers. This was some kind of nightmare for him, his worst dream come true. He was losing her, and he could see in her eyes that she knew it.

            “Harry,” she said softly. “Harry, I wanted to tell you that I-”

            “Locomotor Hermione,” Tonks said and suddenly Hermione began to float into the air. He watched as Tonks pulled her back onto the train, and then levitated him back in with her. Tonks turned and shoved Ernie back.

            “I’ll deal with you later,” she said. “If you’re not too stupid to get yourself killed!”

            Back in the train Harry pulled Hermione to him in a tight hug, feeling nearly overwhelmed with relief. He felt her tremble in his arms. He wasn’t very steady himself, and he felt no sympathy when he looked at Ernie’s abashed face.

            “I was only trying to help,” Ernie said.

            “Do us all a favor,” Harry spat, looking over Hermione’s head at him, “and fight for the Death Eaters. You’ll be sure to help us out then.”

            Ernie looked shamed, but his eyes widened suddenly, prompting Harry to look around. Several dementors were flying for the open door. Harry moved forward just in time as the conductor slammed the door shut with his wand.

            “Can you get this train moving?” Tempton said. He was splattered with blood and a smelly phosphorescent green substance.

            “Where is my wand?” Hermione asked, her voice sounding strange. It was suddenly hard, and when she pulled away from Harry he saw her brow furrowed in a deep frown.

            “The enchantments stalling the engine have been lifted. We’ll be moving in a few moments.”

            “Summon my wand, Harry,” Hermione said.

            “Accio Hermione’s wand,” Harry said. There were several shouts of “ouch!” and “watch out!” and a few moments later Hermione’s wand came zooming into sight. She caught it but not before it poked Ernie McMillan hard in the stomach.

            “I was only trying to help,” Ernie said, rubbing his belly.

            “Do us a favor and don’t,” Harry said, following Hermione to the front of the train. Progress was slow moving back through the train. They had to poke their heads into compartments to jinx the Death Eaters that tried to come in through the windows, but Harry was pleased to see that three of the DA members were able to conjure corporeal Patronuses under pressure. Unfortunately, poor Neville wasn’t one of them.

            “Neville, stick with what you know,” Harry said, as he, Hermione , and Tempton approached. The pudgy faced boy aimed his wand at an approaching dementor and repeated Expecto Patronum several times, producing less and less vapor on each try. Neville gave up on the dementor and turned his attentions to a Death Eater fighting his way past a group of frightened students.

            “Expelliarmus!” Neville shouted angrily, clearly frustrated at his lack of performance with the Patronus charm. His Disarming spell was so powerful that the Death Eater was sent crashing into several of his companions, knocking them flat.

            “Good work,” Tempton said encouragingly from behind Hermione.

            They worked their way down the train, but the hopelessness of the situation wasn’t lost on Harry. Most of the students had never seen battle, their spellwork was shoddy at best, and most times they ended up jinxing each other instead of the Death Eaters. Harry was worried about the effects the horde of dementors attached to the train was having. Most people looked hopeless and cowered in their seats, their knees to their chests, trembling violently, freezing in the frigid air. He imagined that many of them hoped that if they posed no threat then they wouldn’t be harmed, but he knew they couldn’t be more wrong.

            His greatest fear, however, wasn’t misplaced hexes, or even the side effects of the dementors hovering outside, but the possibility that the dementors would gain full access to the train and begin feeding on the souls of the children inside. Harry’s loathing for Voldemort had never been as great as it was now. What kind of man would condone the murder of innocent children?

            He isn’t a man, Harry thought. He’s not even human anymore.

            “Harry?” Cho Chang came out of a compartment, sweat making her hair stick to the sides of her beautiful face, even though it was freezing inside and her breath issued in great frosty plumes in front of her face.

            “I’m kind of busy at the moment,” he said.

            “The last compartment…It’s swarmed with dementors. They got in.”

            “Was anyone in there?” asked Hermione, her eyes wide.

            “I don’t think so. I think that pink-haired Auror cleared everyone out.”

            “Tempton!” the Auror in question, Tonks, waved them forward. “How’s your Patronus?”

            “I don’t know if I can conjure another,” Tempton said. Harry could see he was tired. They were all tired.

            “We need help Harry,” Hermione said. “Can you…summon help? Like you did before?”

            “I’d like to, but I don’t know how I did it the first time. It was an accident.”

            “All together,” Tonks said, taking aim with her wand. “Happy thoughts, everyone.”

            Harry felt Cho staring at him. He looked over and saw her give a small smile before she leveled her wand at the door, keeping her eyes glued to him, and she yelled “Expecto Patronum!”

            Instead of the silvery swan from the previous year, a golden snidget, easily ten or fifteen times the size of its real life counterpart, emerged from Cho’s wand and flew through the steel doors, zooming around the dementors, repelling them. Tonks’ werewolf loped forward, as did a brilliantly bright Kangaroo that shot out from Tempton’s wand. Hermione tore her eyes away from Cho and said the incantation as well, but nothing happened for her.

            “Expecto Patronum!” Harry said, seeing an image in his mind of eating ice cream with Ron and Hermione in front of Florean Fortesque’s in his third year, the image of his friends smiling faces sharp in his mind. The silver stag erupted from his wand and soon there wasn’t a dementor left in the rear compartment.

            The train lurched beneath them and began moving, picking up speed, just as someone yelled “We’re saved! Aurors are coming, look!”

            Harry looked out of the window at the sound of many cracks and pops and found Aurors had arrived riding broomsticks. Soon the air around the train was glowing silver as many Patronuses converged on the train, sending the dementors fleeing in all directions. Many more pops and cracks, both inside and out of the train, signified the retreat of the dementors. Once the dementors were gone, the lights flickered back on in the train, and the air began to warm considerably.

            “Alright!” Tonks shouted, rushing away down the corridor, “Order, round up the Death Eaters. Stun them, don’t let them get away!”

            “We did it, Harry!” Cho said happily, and threw her arms around Harry’s neck with such enthusiasm he was pushed back against a compartment door. “We did it!”

            Harry moved a lock of Cho’s hair from his face just in time to see Hermione turn, her face a bright red and her eyes squinted nearly shut, and move toward Ginny and Luna, who were struggling under Ron’s weight into their empty compartment.