Shadow of the Dark Fortress (Part 2)

Triggy

Rating: PG13
Genres: Action & Adventure, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/07/2004
Last Updated: 24/12/2004
Status: completed

Voldemort builds a terrible fortress christened the "Xanthius" to project more terror to the Wizard World. ACT 2: "The Xanthius" -Lucius hatches a plan to retake Harry back to Xanthius for Voldemort using an mysterious asset at Hogwarts. Who or what could it be? Adding to Harry's worries is helping Hermione with her different troubles while dealing with the invasion of wizards in Hogwarts suspected to be Death Eaters and part of the plot to capture him again for Voldemort.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. The Looming Storm

3. Carpe Retractim

4. Ears and Fears

5. Mounting Problems

6. Kill the Mudblood

7. Curious Disappearances

8. Death Eaters Attack

9. Duo or Trio

10. Course of Action

11. Death Eaters at Hogwarts Again

12. State of Emergency

13. Recurring Lapses

14. The Stray Snitch

15. Reunion of Friends

16. Dumbledore's Departure

17. Date at Hogsmeade

18. The Fortress of Shadows

19. The Underground

20. Hallen Rodd

21. Scissors Against Rocks

22. The Twin Pendants of Omerta

23. Epilogue

1. Prologue

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Shadow of the Dark Fortress Part 2: The Xanthius

By Triggy

March 2004

Prologue

Voldemort's newly built fortress was called the “Xanthius”. Like Hogwarts, it was unplottable. It stood on a mountainous rocky island in the middle of a large lake, near one of the wizard world's dragon reservations deep in Scotland. It was also sometimes referred to as the Dark Fortress by Voldemort's followers due to its dark blue walls and the very powerful dark magic that protects the place, marked by a constant gloomy, cloudy, and lightning-filled sky. It was here the Dark Lord planned to rule the wizard world with an iron fist, and it was expected among his inner circle that soon, wizards who opposed Voldemort shall also fear the name of the fortress alongside his name.

Aside from his servants, Death Eaters, and minions, no one had ever seen Xanthius and lived to tell the tale. Except for the most unlikely of all survivors Harry Potter and three of his friends: Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They have been here just days before, face to face with the Dark Lord himself. Despite being boasted as impenetrable and inescapable, Harry and his friends miraculously escaped, returned to Hogwarts, and warned the wizard world of its existence. This was not supposed to happen and this in itself angered Voldemort immensely. Fortunately most of the wizard world seemed to be unbelieving that Xanthius really existed, but this didn't make Voldemort feel any better - his secret had been revealed prematurely.

The old clock chimed twelve midnight in a very lonely section of this seemingly centuries old castle. Had it not for the panicked screams echoing around its walls, it would have been the only sound present in the still night. A flurry of activity had suddenly taken place at this usually quiet time of the night: running footsteps, doors banging, shrieks of terror and pain, and eerie growling and mirthless laughter. Something dreadful was happening.

Owls perched on the large foyer's horizontal flagpoles were startled as the 20-foot silver doors separating it from the receiving room opened with a loud bang. A man, draped in white robes drenched in fresh blood and his mask askew, limped away from a towering figure following him closely with a wand. He fell over painfully to the cold stone floor, gasping for breath, and crawled further away from his attacker. A group of similarly dressed men cautiously followed the figure that had a face with a frightening likeness of a snake, and a set of glowing eyes that provided a dim red light in the fire-lit foyer.

“CRUCIO!” yelled the figure, and the man screamed in intense pain. The spell lasted for only a few seconds, but he might as well have been brought to the brink of death. He panted, feeling relieved although the deep pain inside him lingered. “M-My Lord…” he gasped.

“You have failed me for the last time, Daedelus!” growled Lord Voldemort. “Harry Potter has escaped me again! The plans that I have painstakingly conceived for months to kill him inside this castle was all for naught!!! This worthless build of yours is supposed to be impenetrable and inescapable as you have boasted…”

Some Death Eaters smirked behind their masks as they gleefully watched Daedalus being tortured. Voldemort had sensed this and turned his furious stares towards them, and their smiles faded at once.

“M-my Lord,” Daedelus repeated, clutching his broken rib. Voldemort slowly gazed upon him.

“The dragon came from nowhere… it-it blanketed my imps with fire that was unsurvivable… and the boy and his friends rode off with it…”

“CRUCIO!” Voldemort commanded, and Daedelus' speech turned back into screams. “You naive fool! You are ever so arrogant to think that nothing from the air will ever try to attack Xanthius!!! I do not tolerate such shortsightedness from my own Death Eaters!”

“P-Please forgive me, My Lord! Please!” Daedelus pleaded. “I-it will never happen again!”

“Yes, it won't happen again…because you won't live another day!” Voldemort shouted. Daedelus shook his head, realizing that he was done for, and no words came out from his mouth.

Voldemort returned his gaze to the Death Eaters standing behind him. “My Deatheaters,” he addressed while his red eyes looked at them one by one. “I will show you what I, Lord Voldemort, will do to those who fail me! Your greatest feats will never be good enough to lessen my wrath!”

“Yes, my Lord,” muttered the Death Eaters in unison while Daedelus whimpered on the floor.

“Lucius! Knott! Bring this worthless fool with me to the Pit!”

“No, no, please my Lord, have mercy!” Daedelus cried. “Not the PIT!!!” He was however bodily carried out of the foyer and deeper inside the castle. He was too weak and in too much pain to fight back.

The journey to the center of Xanthius, the fortress Death Eater and Ministry of Magic official Daedelus Lowrie planned and helped build for Voldemort, took more than ten minutes through seemingly endless corridors. Anyone who was not familiar with the fortress' layout would surely be lost in a matter of seconds. For Daedelus, who knew what he was in for, it was a torturous eternity.

When they arrived all the Death Eaters present were already positioned at their designated places in the amphitheatre, looking down at a central stage made of stone and a steel platform. Deadelus was thrown painfully atop the platform - Lucius and Knott got up to their places beside Voldemort, who was the only one sitting down on a large throne. Besides the crackling of the torches, Deadelus' heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the whole chamber.

“My Lord…” he weakly said, attempting to take a few steps back to try to get off the platform, but more than one Death Eater raised their wands and pushed him right back to the center.

“Thank you, my servants,” said Voldemort.

“It is our duty, my Lord,” said the Death Eaters that made the spells with a hint of satisfaction in their voices.

“Any final words before you die, Deadelus?” said Voldemort coldly.

Knowing he now didn't have a chance in the world to survive this, Deadelus' emotions had suddenly changed. For a fleeting moment, he didn't feel afraid anymore -rage and true contempt towards Voldemort coursed through him this time. Racking up all the courage Dealelus could muster, he took the opportunity to spit what he had to say to his now former master. This was his only chance for repentance, though no one would ever know that he had.

“You were never a good master, V-vvvvvv…” he said, struggling and failing to say the name. “I regret all the things that I have done for you! I rebuke you, you evil TYRANT!” A majority of the Death Eaters around him swayed, not believing anyone could say that to what they consider as the most powerful and terrible wizard of all.

“That is enough!” Voldemort said, and with a wave of his wand, the platform on which Daedelus stood fell open in half, revealing another dark chamber below, and the man plunged unto it. As he stood up to regain his footing on the sandy ground below, Nagini (Voldemort's faithful pet snake), came out from its sleeping niche towered and over him. Void of a wand Daedalus was now defenseless against this powerful creature. He backed off against the chamber's walls, hoping to at least gain some distance away from the menacing snake, but he knew this was all an act in futility, as he had absolutely nowhere to go.

In a split second Nagini struck him. Deadalus Lowrie, with a promising career as senior Auror and double agent to the Dark Lord, was dead. Nagini swallowed Deadalus whole, and he was now seen from outside as a lump slowly going deeper down along the length of Nagini's body. Moments passed in eerie silence for there were no cheers among the Death Eaters who witnessed this. The sight was so disturbing from above, and they were not sure if they would meet the same fate as Deadalus' in their own future.

“You all have been warned, my servants,” Voldemort said as the platform closed. “Fail me and you will suffer the same terrible fate. Now, everyone leave the chamber - except you, Lucius.” All the Death Eaters obeyed without any word and left, closing the huge silver doors behind them.

Lucius Malfoy, who was very apprehensive all night to begin with, was now alone with Voldemort. He moved in front of him slowly, dreading to be the next one in line for punishment from his master that might or might not come.

“How can I serve you, my Lord?” Lucius said, managing to maintain a steady voice.

“Are you still my faithful servant, Lucius?” said Voldemort calmly, slowly lifting his head toward the elder Malfoy. Those red glowing eyes didn't make anybody feel good.

“Ever since - and forevermore, my Lord.” Lucius looked up again to see his master, who then seemed to have deep thoughts.

“That will do,” Voldemort said shortly. He stood up and lifted Lucius chin with his cold, long fingers. “I have another task for you - I want nothing less than Harry Potter on that platform and into that pit, do I make myself I plain?”

“I understand my Lord,” Lucius said, feeling relieved of being important once again to the Dark Lord. “Any means necessary, my Lord?”

“Yes…Yes, any means necessary,” said Voldemort tentatively, nodding his head slowly. “Do what you have to do, as quickly as you can. He has evaded me so many times. I cannot tolerate this travesty any longer, Lucius. No fully-grown wizard has survived my death sentence and yet I can't kill a puny 15-year old wizard-to-be?” He paused and breathed deeply as he sat back on his throne to say something difficult.

“I should have killed him on the spot when he was here last, my faithful servant,” he continued, gripping the arms of his throne tightly with his scaly hands. “Yet I was so optimistic he could not get away, and the prospect of having him as an unwavering servant and the dire effect it would have caused against those who oppose me clouded my judgment. So… uncharacteristic and foolish of me.”

Voldemort sighed. “I believe Potter must die so I may live and reign forever - yet he had slipped away again…Yes, this time he must die for sure, and my Nagini will kill him for me this time. He deserves to feast on the flesh of my mortal enemy.”

Lucius did not dare to comment.

“Go, and fulfill my wish,” Voldemort said finally, standing up. “Report back to me with your plan at noon tomorrow.”

“Your wish is my command, my Lord,” replied Lucius solemnly, and bowed off. He strode out of the room, opened the tall silver doors, and closed them behind him. There were several Death Eaters outside the chamber looking at him expectantly, hoping to be told what the Dark Lord was thinking, but Lucius ignored them all and walked all the way to his personal quarters to start planning a new plot.

Not until he locked the doors to his quarters did he take off his mask to wipe his heavily sweating face and breathe deeply. He was quite certain back there he was the next in line for punishment from Lord Voldemort, but he felt quite fortunate that the Dark Lord still had faith in him despite the failure of his recent action. When was that, just seven days ago? he asked himself.

It seemed incredible for him to have plotted a plan just a few days before with similar objectives like he's about to design after this - his old plan ultimately failed because of the incompetence of a wet-nosed candidate for Death-Eatership. Still, it was the Dark Lord himself who called off the plan in the most inconvenient time in the middle of the operation and therefore he was not responsible for whatever happened afterwards, he thought. He did bring Harry Potter as ordered, albeit indirectly. Lord Voldemort punished him for his “failure”, but he knew very well that's how his master worked - blame everything on somebody else and nobody ever dares to complain. Perhaps Daedalus was right.

It has also been one hell of week for Lucius. Just two days ago the Ministry of Magic summoned him to a highly publicized hearing about his alleged plot to kill Dumbledore. He was suspected as the writer of the mission order found in his late beneficiary's (Jack Chadron) possession, but that was just about it. He was only a suspect. In the end he was cleared of all charges due to lack of more solid evidence, and no less the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge quickly approached him to apologize as if the Ministry couldn't stand on its own without the Malfoy's financial backing. Such wonders how regular contributions of gold could do, and Fudge dreaded to give it all up. The conditions will still be right to hatch a new plot. To have the most chances of success this time, however, Lucius had to be less visible. Even though it was inconceivable for him what the Dark Lord will do if he fails, he also couldn't afford to have his noble family's name tarnished again in the wizarding world just in case he survives this war, and Voldemort perishes.

His thoughts then came back to the nosy old Auror named Olga Gargarin. She, along with some veteran and green-horned Aurors in the London bureau, were the reason he had been investigated with only a letter to Jack Chadron as proof. It seemed to him that this Auror was bent on at least smearing his name if he couldn't land in Azkaban, and he made a mental note to deal with her sooner or later.

From what he heard from his own mole in Ministry of Magic, Gargarin was also hot on Cassius Wallace's trail. Wallace was a Ministry Auror now suspected as a Death Eater after that debacle in Hogwarts. Of course, he really was a Death Eater, and Lucius thought it was imperative to contact him before he got caught. Right now he had serious planning as expected by the Dark Lord, and he was determined not to be unsuccessful it this time. All he needed was just a few key people to do his work for him, and this time he knew very well who they exactly were.

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A/N Hello, I'm back in Fanfic mode!

First of all I wish to thank my good friend Belinda for giving me permission to adopt a key point of the plot from her fanfic published years ago in Mugglenet!

Also thanks to all who have read and reviewed “Fugitives or the Ministry”, well after the last day of updates, especially to the reviewer who gave me a little lesson in present, future, and past tenses (yeah!). I hope you all like this new fic, though criticism is welcome. I'm following my own storyline for the characters therefore some points may not correspond to what is written in the real books. Thanks to the most recent reviewer the month of June, 2004!

Author's note to new readers: if the story does not make sense this early, it's because this is the sequel for my other two action-adventure fanfics “The Auror and the Oarling” and “Fugitives of the Ministry”. I hope you could take the time to read these fanfics (okay, I know this is a shameless plug, but how can I resist?) “Auror” was my very first complete fic so it's a little rough around the edges. Please read and review these stories if you have time. Thanks!

I'll be back soon with an update!!!

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2. The Looming Storm

Chapter 1

The Looming Storm

Harry Potter sprang awake on top of his homework at his study table in the Gryffindor Common Room - he hadn't realized it but he had dozed off for a few minutes just after he decided to start doing his homework in earnest. Just across the table was his best friend Ron Weasley, who still had detention to serve after homework (because of his recent work in disguising Neville Longbottom's toad Trevor into a chocolate frog). He muttered something indistinguishable under his breath while writing a thirteen-inch essay on Animorphus Squibs; his quill seemed to be at the breaking point and would give in at any moment.

“Ron, I think you need to take it easy there,” said Harry, yawning. He dipped his quill and started writing his essay. “You're practically writing your essay on the desk surface.”

Ron banged his own quill in the inkbottle, splattering some blue liquid on the desktop and smearing his parchment. “I don't believe them - I just don't believe them!”

“Who?”

“The professors!” said Ron, tearing up the parchment with gritted teeth. “We've almost been murdered by You-Know-Who just a week ago and they give us a whole two week's of missed homework like we were just out strolling around the park or something…” He threw all the bits and pieces of parchment everywhere in disgust.

“That's why they're giving us so much work - we got to catch up with the rest of our classmates,” said Harry's other best friend Hermione Granger, who had just returned from her Arithmancy class. She sat down beside Ron. “They kept classes going while we were out there…”

“They've got no consideration whatsoever!” interrupted Ron.

Hermione paused for a moment and then stared at Ron. “Why, what did you think they'd do for us when got back, roll us a red carpet?” she said.

“Yeah, that's right, something like that,” replied Ron, looking away dreamily. “It would be cool to have some time away from schoolwork…a real long time away, huh?” Hermione made a face not like hers out of sheer revulsion.

“Elves feeding us with grapes sounds good,” added Harry, but he abruptly stopped grinning upon seeing Hermione throw her sharp stare at him.

“Yeah, cool!” seconded Ron. “While we're asleep.”

“You two are so full of it!” Hermione said in disbelief, but she could not hide her bemusement from her two best friends, who at the moment had wild fantasies about being revered by the whole school as heroes. Hogwarts had celebrated for their victory at least once, of course, when they had returned to the Great Hall for the first time since they made an unscheduled excursion into the unknown. Harry and Ron liked it and kept looking for some more! Hermione found that enormously nauseating.

Regaining her self-control Hermione then said “Have you ever thought what happened to us back there was nothing compared to what other wizards had probably experienced against Voldemort?”

“No, it's because they're dead,” said Harry just as Ron took his fingers off his ears. Ron had recently developed a good sense to avoid hearing Voldemort's name just in time.

Hermione paused for moment after realizing that. “Well, I admit we're lucky - I mean you're lucky because I wasn't there - but that doesn't make us any more special, you know?”

“Correction! That makes us even more special!” said Ron, his eyes brightening. He pushed a new sheet of parchment in front of Hermione.

“What's this for?” said Hermione. “Oh no…”

Ron did his darndest to look cute in front of Hermione. “Just twelve inches, please? I'll do the last inch - for real!”

“After arguing with me? Uh-huh, no way! You got to be taught a lesson - you do your own essay, Ron!” said Hermione irritably, pulling out her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 from her bag and hiding her face from Ron's sight. Ron returned to mumbling under his breath while rewriting his essay.

Harry smiled, shook his head and returned to his homework. He was actually glad that things were slowly returning to normal after their last terrible encounter with Voldemort in Xanthius. Well, for him, Ron and Hermione arguing and bickering all the time were considered normal. He didn't like it before but strangely he had thought of it now as a blessing. He couldn't imagine life without two of his best friends, and it got to a point where he believed they had already lost Hermione forever, which would have been devastating for them. Fortunately lady luck seemed to smile at them all day in that fateful episode in Voldemort's fortress, and the dragon that took her away was none other than Hagrid's former pet, Norbert. Similarly, both Ron and Ginny's courage also helped saved their lives that day in Xanthius.

The whole thing didn't come as an accident, and it was the result of a well-plotted conspiracy to kill Dumbledore, bring disgrace to the Weasley family, and deliver Harry to Voldemort at the same time. Harry and his friends were quite certain beyond any form of doubt that Draco Malfoy's father, Lucius, had been the mastermind of it all under orders from Voldemort. His beneficiary, Jack Chadron, the recent and now deceased Head Boy was the main instrument to put that plan into motion. He was killed when he tried to redeem himself for giving lots of injustice to the people he respected too many times. Harry and his friends still bore the inner scars of their encounters with the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but those have not dampened their determination and their hope to live on with a relatively normal life. The whole affair also strengthened their already strong bond, but sometimes old habits die hard, as Harry saw in front of him in the form of his two best friends back into their usual love-hate relationship.

Ron suddenly gathered up his things and stood up.

“Where're you going?” said Hermione, frowning. “You've not even started your essay yet…”

“Detention, remember?” Ron groaned. “I'm expected to serve detention in Dumbledore's office in a few minutes. I'm helping him re-catalogue his books. He says it was a good thing most of them fell off from the shelves - he was looking for a real good reason to do that for fifty years - can you believe that?”

“Oh, that's great,” said Harry absently; Hermione looked away with a wide grin. (She had caused those books to fall off on the late Head Boy and his Death Eater accomplice in order to escape them.) “I mean, that's too bad, Ron… but great. I'm sure it won't be bad doing detentions for Dumbledore, and it was supposed to be Filch giving you the dirty work, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Ron uncertainly. “But no matter how you look at it, it's still detention. See you guys later.” He slouched off towards the portrait hole and got out of sight.

“Classic Ron,” Harry said closely to Hermione. “I suppose he expects us to cry buckets for him in sympathy every time.”

Knowing Ron, Hermione laughed. Later she stood up after returning all her books in her bag. It was now Harry's turn to ask, “Hey, and where're you going?” He was kind of enjoying being alone with her.

“Prefect duty, Harry, and a meeting tonight to help the faculty select a new Head Boy,” she replied brightly. “The first years are little monsters, but they seem to behave while I'm around…”

“Planning something what to pelt at you, more like it,” said Harry, wearing a mischievous look on his face.

“Let them try,” she said naughtily. “Look, I wish I could visit Hagrid with you later - we haven't met ever since before I slipped away to Hogsmeade - could you say hi to him for me and ask if he really caught all those galloping unicorns at all?”

“Sure,” said Harry, remembering his meeting with Hagrid. “He'd be disappointed without you two, I wager.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione said, with extreme disappointment. “I wish I could see the look on his face after he learns about what Norbert did…”

And later, if she had indeed been around, Hermione would have become busy mopping Hagrid's floor. After Harry told Hagrid the story in his hut, he drenched his gigantic hanky with happy tears, squeezing it occasionally to take the excess off. “Oh, Norbert, he makes me so proud…imagine helping Hermione find yeh and bring yeh all to safety,” Hagrid sniffed. He ran over to his closet and took out a whole blanket expecting to cry the whole night. “Oh, my very own Norbert!!!”

“And he has a new girlfriend - we named her Sarah,” said Harry happily, setting his rock cake aside. He knew better than to try every little condiment Hagrid offered him. The last time he accepted one, his jaw ached for a week.

Hagrid again howled with delight. “Norbert's a teenager now, too! Bless him! If he'd ask to raise his family here in me hut soon, I'd agree in an instant.”

Harry slightly choked drinking his tea. If ever that would have happened, he didn't have a clue how to keep two fully grown dragons away from being noticed by the whole school. Norbert as a baby was big trouble enough aside from it being illegal to keep as a pet.

“Uh, can dragons do that, too?” Harry asked, looking up at Hagrid hoping that he was only making it all up. Hagrid really believed all monsters could be human if they wanted to.

“Well, er, no, but it's Norbert…” Hagrid shrugged. “Harry, I'm happiest to see yeh here back alive an' well, y'know. I've got te see Hermione `n Ron sometime, too.” Hagrid patted Harry gently on the head, which caused the chair he sat on to collapse, and Hagrid apologized profusely.

“It's nice to hear the whole story of wha' happened the last week from yeh, because Dumbledore told me I was subjected to a memory charm an' I cudern't remember anything for the last week,” Hagrid said while Harry massaged his own aching head and repairing the broken chair with magic. “I din' believe it at first but it was Dumbledore telling me it happened…”

“How much don't you remember, Hagrid?”

“The whole affair, unfortunately,” Hagrid sighed. “And you said I warned yeh abou' Jack Chadron, right?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Then suppose' I did - not like me not to tell yeh abou' what I thought about him…”

“He turned out the way like you suspected.”

“Har, I've got in me a nose of a niffler, eh?” Hagrid said proudly. He blew his nose in his blanket with a deafening snort. He got up from his chair and poured Harry's cup with some more steaming tea.

“Yeah, I think you do. Oh, before I forget, Hermione's asking how the unicorns are doing, Hagrid,” Harry said next. “She wants to know if you really succeeded rounding them all up back in the paddock.” Just then, something white passed by Hagrid's window.

“So it's true I had my own unicorns then? That'd be great if it were…” Hagrid said distractedly, snatching glances at a window and moved over toward it.

“Yep, Hermione said you did. Jack let them loose to distract you from helping her find out about why Dumbledore wrote to you like she said.”

“Oh, so that's why there'd been unicorns comin' and goin' from the forest…” Hagrid said as it dawned upon him, now looking out the window. Harry laughed thinking at how off Hagrid was with the current events. “Anyway, I'm goin' to catch `em all soon, if I really were herding them up fer lessons. Blimey, I got a lot to catch up…” Hagrid returned to his seat and rubbed his forehead with his hand.

“And have you heard about Xanthius, Hagrid?” asked Harry carefully. “You know, You-Know-Who's new fortress?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Hagrid, noticeably shuddering. “Dumbledore also told me about You-Know-What yesterday. He was grim about it.”

“You-Know-What?” Harry repeated.

“Yeah, unfortunately I can' say the name, too, like anybody else,” said Hagrid, shrugging again.

“Then I suppose this is what the rest of the wizarding world calls it now, huh?” Harry said, torn between humor and disbelief.

“Well, sort of…” said Hagrid.

“What does that mean, sort of?”

“That's the problem, Harry,” said Hagrid gravely, shifting on his seat. “Dumbledore noticed everybody else seems to want to deny it ever exists - people are tired of being scared of You-Know-Who for years, y'know, and here now comes of another reason to be afraid of - You-Know-Who's next terror weapon, a dark fortress of all things! You- Know-Who apparently hasn't done anything with it yet but look how it causes quite a big impact now, if yeh look closely. Wha's more, nobody even wants te call it You-Know-What as a matter of fact.”

“But I've seen it!” said Harry severely. “Ask Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. We were in and out there… you believe us, don't you?”

“If you say yeh'd seen it, I believe yeh without question,” said Hagrid, smiling broadly. “But the other problem is, is that only you lot had seen it, nobody else had, ar?”

”I see,” Harry said. This reminded him of his current situation where practically no one also believed Voldemort's back. It seemed to make sense, he admitted to himself, because how would anyone believe Voldemort could have built his own fortress if he wasn't back in the first place? “Do you suppose Dumbledore warned the Ministry about it already?”

“Yeh, he might've,” replied Hagrid. “I'm not sure if Fudge is ready te accept that, if yeh know wha' I mean. But if yeh ask me, I'd be a little happier ter know that You-Know-Who had built You-Know-What at all.”

“Why's that?” asked Harry, baffled.

“Yeh see, Harry, the way I look at it, it's like a war between two camps: Hogwarts here an' You-Know-What right there,” Hagrid said, dropping the idea of pointing the location of Xanthius with his finger because, like everybody else, he didn't have a clue where it was. “An imaginary line drawn somewhere, so to speak…”

“But Hagrid, look, we still don't know where to find Xanth - I mean, You-Know-What. How could that be a good thing? Anybody could find Hogwarts - it's no secret if you know how to get here - but Xanthius, it's a different story…”

“Well at least we know You-Know-Who could just stay in one place rather than moving about from one unknown location ter another. S'Better that way, I guess. I know it's frustrating all the same, but it seems that's all we have best at this time…”

“I guess that's right…” said Harry. He thought about Hagrid's point very deeply. It seemed encouraging, but no matter how anybody would look at it, it didn't make the wizard world's stand against Voldemort even much better. Voldemort roaming around without an address causing mayhem was bad enough to start with, but with a secret fortress - it was unthinkable. “But You-Know-Who could still go to other secret places where and when he wants to…”

Hagrid grunted, knowing that Harry was correct. “But I bet me hut Dumbledore's doing all he can to find You Know What, at least…” he said, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Have you heard of any new attacks yet now that You-Know-Who's back?” asked Harry after a few seconds of silence.

“Aside from killin' Cedric Diggory last year and the `mysterious' deaths of those Death Eaters yeh faced off with, Harry, not yet,” said Hagrid with unease. “But now that You-Know-Who has some fancy place ter hide in, I `spect we'll hear about new ones soon. I don' imagine him fightin' the urge much longer to kill someone or create chaos…”

“If it isn't terrible to say this, I wish he'd do so very soon,” said Harry darkly; Hagrid dropped his breath in surprise that Harry could say such a thing. “At least it'll be a good excuse to slap Fudge and all other wizards who don't want to believe me back into reality.”

“I think that's kind of drastic,” said Hagrid slowly, getting Harry's point, “but we can' have it both ways, y'know.”

“I know, Hagrid,” Harry said, sighing, and standing up to leave. “I know…I'm sorry for ever thinking that way. Well, I think it's time for dinner at the Great Hall so thanks for the tea and rock cake.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks fer visitin', ar? If somethin's botherin' yeh three just holler all the way teh my hut - yeh know you're always welcome here.” Hagrid beamed and attempted to pat Harry once more on the head, which he fortunately dodged in the nick of time.

“I know you love me, Hagrid, but I'd rather not have another severe headache tonight,” Harry said, laughing.

-o0o-

As Harry walked back halfway toward the castle he felt a light piece of pebble bounce off his already aching head. Looking around to see who made it, his eyes caught Draco Malfoy and his goons Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle following him from behind. Harry felt the usual surge of hatred rise up from inside him each time he saw that pale and pointy face with the greasy white hair of Malfoy. He has had too many encounters with him since their first year that he had made it a habit to place his hands inside his robe pocket where his wand was, just in case.

“Oh, it's you,” Harry grunted, and kept on walking. “What do you want this time, Snapperhead?”

“I'd be careful where I want to go from now on if I were you, Potter,” Malfoy sniggered, shadowing Harry a few feet away.

“I'm so scared!” Harry mocked. “You've been saying that to me for, what - five years now? And nothing happens, so shut up or put up, Malfoy.” He tried to pick up speed ahead before he'd do something he'd probably regret later on.

“Now that the Dark Lord is truly back, and nobody believes you,” Malfoy pressed on as if Harry hadn't talked back, “you'd only want to be with the people who you're sure to trust.”

“Yeah, and I suppose it took you five years to figure out I had real friends, not baboons like you got there,” retorted Harry. Crabbe and Goyle blinked stupidly upon hearing this and then proceeded to brandish their fists in the air, trying to look menacing. “Ha, five seconds, that's an improvement…” Harry muttered, walking his fastest to end his unpleasant meeting with Draco. Malfoy always looked for ways to torment him, Ron, and Hermione even if he was making no real sense at all.

“Have it your way then, Potter,” guffawed Draco. “Mark my words, trust no one, woooo!” Crabbe and Goyle quickly returned to laughing beside Malfoy as if what he said was the funniest joke in the world, though it was obvious they had not an idea in the world what that was all about.

It was little miracle for Harry that he had not lost his temper back there; he had a special sensitivity on how people regarded his friends - Draco knew this was one of his weaknesses that he always liked to take advantage of. Harry and his friends had been together through thick and thin all these years. Who was Malfoy to lecture him about his choice of people? He was sure Malfoy referred to anyone besides Ron and Hermione, whom he had been through thick in thin, and he had trusted so much. Additionally, Harry had always felt he was blessed for being close to some of the coolest people in the wizarding world: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, his friends in Gryffindor, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and some Aurors particularly Olga Gargarin (the Bulgarian Auror who helped him save Hermione's life from being consumed by an evil creature called an Oarling). Though he accepted that it was a mixed bunch with some having blemished histories behind them, but for him, they were the best people in the planet. He could not imagine any of them to be untrustworthy.

“Draco was just pulling your leg, Harry, don't let him get to you,” said a voice inside him with a striking resemblance to Hermione's, and he readily agreed it wasn't worth fuming about further.

“Harry, what's the matter,” said Hermione, catching up from behind him inside the castle. “You look furious about something - ”

“I had a little run in with Malfoy on the way here,” said Harry, exhaling deeply to release his anger.

“Oh,” Hermione said anxiously, raising her eyebrows. “You didn't curse him, I hope…”

“Then, you can turn me in, prefect,” Harry joked as they both turned around a corner. “No, he was just trying to make me think you're not to be trusted along with Ron, and everyone else - he didn't say who exactly. Knowing that's how Malfoy works all the time, it's nothing, really.” Harry then told Hermione about the rest of what Malfoy had said to him.

Hermione snorted. “As usual, he's not making any sense again, is he? Besides, what does he know about friendship anyway? Like he's lucky he has pug-faced Pansy, big deal!”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Look, forget about it, Malfoy was just pulling your leg, Harry, don't let him get to you,” advised Hermione.

“Funny, that's exactly what my mind's been telling me not a long time ago,” Harry laughed. “And it sounds just like you, y'know!”

Hermione then playfully pinched and twisted a huge chunk of skin from Harry's back, making him whimper in pain all the way to the Great Hall as she pushed him all the way there. Ron was already eating his supper when they both arrived at their places.

“Sorry, I'm so hungry I couldn't wait for you two,” said Ron stuffily, with large chunks of chicken flying off from his mouth.

“I thought you had detention,” said Hermione, revolted, and placing mashed potatoes and corn on her plate. “And, Ron, when can you ever start learning good table manners?”

“This is probably the best detention anyone could have!” said Ron, ignoring Hermione. “I can have breaks, can you believe that? What's better, I can do my work at my own pace. I've been rearranging the same ten books for an hour and Dumbledore didn't seem to mind at all.” Ron sat upright and acted out a good impression of Hagrid saying, “Great man, Dumbledore…”

“Then that defeats the purpose of detentions - he's being too lenient!” Hermione protested passionately. “You're supposed to be punished, Ron! Puh-nished! How would that teach you not to disguise Trevor as a chocolate frog anymore?”

In a split second, Hermione stood up.

“What, now going on a hunger strike, are you Hermione?” said Ron, sniggering.

“For you? No way, I'm hungry - but I'm going to talk to Dumbledore first about you. He's here.” Then she walked away towards Dumbledore, who was selecting what to eat for supper at his chair.

Ron's snigger vanished instantly. He looked at Hermione - open mouthed - as she walked away and then to Harry, who was equally astonished how Hermione could be so sensitive again with the rules. Ron glared at her darkly while she conversed with Dumbledore at the teachers' table. He literally snorted hot steam out his nostrils when he saw the Headmaster pat her on the shoulder.

“I'm going break her neck…” growled Ron as Hermione walked back to her seat. “Ohhhh, she's got the nerve to…”

Hermione sat down with seemingly forced dignity; Harry noticed she looked slightly disappointed.

“I bet you'll have a good gloat tonight,” said Ron indignantly without looking at her. “50 points to Gryffindor for making my life difficult; Fifty books a minute…”

Hermione seemed to be struggling with herself and said “Dumbledore says that not only you could arrange ten books an hour, you could also do it with magic…”

Ron and Harry made loud whooping sounds while Hermione managed to give a little smile for them amid her disastrous defeat and returned to eating her potatoes in silence.

“Thanks for the trouble, Hermione,” said Ron triumphantly. “I could even give you a kiss…” Ron mocked bending closer to Hermione and she jerked back abruptly to avoid him, splashing Neville Longbottom with the whole contents of his goblet.

“Yuck!” shrieked Hermione. “Ron!”

“Are you really going to stay in Hogwarts at Christmas, Harry?” asked Ginny Weasley, who was helping wipe Neville's wet face with Hermione, just as Draco and his cronies went past them. “I've been helping Professor McGonagall go around getting names of anyone going home and I haven't seen your name in the list up to now. I mean, just about everybody's going home this year despite…you know… ”

Harry almost completely forgot it was only few days before the start of Christmas vacation. It was the first time he had not been looking forward to Christmas, because he had found out just lately that Ron and Hermione planned to spend theirs out of Hogwarts. Privet Drive was out of the question - he would rather be alone in Hogwarts for more than two weeks than languishing in his own room with nowhere to go but the toilet. He had not asked Dumbledore if he could spend Christmas in other places other than Hogwarts or Privet drive because he expected all along that Ron would be staying with him like he had for the last four years. He felt slightly hurt that he and Hermione had not told him about their plans.

“You could come to the Burrow with us, mate,” said Ron slowly. “Mum's going to be glad you'd come…”

“Okay, that would be cool,” said Harry, now excited. “Let's talk about those later - there's McGonagall - I'll let her know I'm leaving first.” Harry stood up from his stool and walked over quickly to Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, who was already sitting on her chair for breakfast at the teachers' table.

“Good morning, Professor,” said Harry merrily. “I just wanted to let you know I already decided to spend Christmas with my friends and I'd like to be on the list, too.”

McGonagall smiled at first but turned serious when she said, “Potter, before I would allow you to be included in the list, you need to talk to the Headmaster first. He personally instructed me to tell you to talk to him when you volunteered to go home.”

Harry's smile flickered. It seemed to him at the moment that Dumbledore might be preventing him from leaving Hogwarts this year for reasons he could not think of. “Professor, did he give a reason why?”

“I'm in no position to demand any explanation from the Headmaster his simple instruction, Potter,” said McGonagall sternly. However, she loosened up and moved closer to Harry and whisper sympathetically “But I suspect it's about what happened last week and You-Know-Who. I want to know what transpired with your meeting. Tell me as soon as you can, okay?”

“Do you think he'd allow me to go?”

“I have no idea, Potter,” said McGonagall. “I don't even know what he wants to talk to you about, but if that's the case, it's up to the Headmaster to decide. Off you go now.”

Harry walked back to his seat robotically. He thought he had a Dementor at his side he would never feel happy again in the next few weeks. The thought that everyone enjoying their holidays while he'd be all alone with no one to talk to for weeks was unbearable as it was already. He never felt so pessimistic in his whole life.

“Harry, what's wrong?” said Hermione, very concerned, as Harry sat back down on his stool. “What did McGonagall say?”

Harry told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what McGonagall said to him at the teachers' table. Hermione looked compassionately at him, while Ron snatched furitive looks at McGonagall, and cowered when the teacher seemed to look at their direction.

“That sounds like he doesn't want you to go,” said Ginny.

“Yeah, it does, isn't it?” said Harry miserably. “D'you think he'd allow me to go? I mean, I really want to already.”

“Why not?” said Ron. “I see no reason he wouldn't.”

Harry bent over closer to Ron, Hermione and Ginny to say at an undertone, “Well, McGonagall said because Voldemort's out there…” With the sound of Voldemort's name Ron coughed and Ginny cringed.

“You're right, it might the reason why he wants to talk to you about it,” said Hermione seriously. “If you ask me, he couldn't force you to stay here if you didn't want to - he'd just ask you to, but if you don't want to, he probably can't stop you.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” said Harry, nodding and thinking deeply. He now had a new sense of hope he could get out for Christmas after all.

Shortly, however, after thinking about it even more carefully, Hermione had a sudden change of heart. “But knowing that, please don't be difficult for him at the same time, Harry,” she said, with a slight pleading look now drawn on her face. “If he really asks you to stay, I hope you won't argue with him. He might have very good reasons to keep you at Hogwarts. I mean, he's just protecting you, isn't he?”

“Thanks, but I think you know we're old enough to take care of ourselves now, we're already fifteen, aren't we?” Harry reasoned, readily preferring the other option that was available for him just to escape two weeks of loneliness. “We're not babies anymore, right?”

“That's right, but neither are we legally adults,” said Hermione wisely.

Harry sighed. Hermione was right but he knew what he wanted. “Well, I'm no more different than everyone else here. Voldemort's back, and everyone else is fair game if he chooses to murder anybody like me. I won't let Voldemort ruin my choice to have a good Christmas - I'm going whether Dumbledore likes it or not.”

“Hear, hear!” said Ron. Hermione, however, didn't seem to be showing any signs of gladness.

“Well, okay,” Hermione said slowly, looking worried. “If no one wants to listen to me for reason anymore around here, I'm off to bed,” She got up and walked out of the Great Hall, obviously hurt, leaving Harry stunned.

“What'd I say?” Harry asked Ron, who appeared to be indifferent to Hermione as usual.

“Don't mind her, you said nothing wrong…”

“Oh, you boys are so thick sometimes,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“How can you say that?” Ron snapped at his sister. “You're the one who brought this up…” Ginny just rolled her eyes once more, shook her head, and took a bite off her apple.

“I'm sure Dumbledore isn't thinking what you're thinking,” Ron said optimistically, turning to Harry. “You're just making up your own problems, mate. Besides, you've stayed at Hogwarts every Christmas for the last four years - it's ripe for change, eh?”

With Ron's words, Harry felt new hope he could avoid loneliness during the holidays and continued on with his dinner slightly happier.

After stuffing every air space their stomachs had with chow, Harry and Ron walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room feeling rather sleepy. Seeing Hermoine walk off very sadly away like that had a striking effect on Harry. He hoped to see Hermione at her usual place of study so that he could apologize to her for reasons unknown to him before they'd turn in for the night. He thought he should have not brought the subject about Dumbledore at dinner, and he felt deeply disappointed that she wasn't there.

“You could still talk to her tomorrow if it's still bothering you,” Ron told Harry, after sensing his troubled mind. “As for me, I don't have to put up with her each time she has a fit. She'll get over it by tomorrow morning, I promise you.”

Harry walked up to his dormitory and changed to pajamas, and opened the daily planner (a birthday gift from Hermione this year) to write down what he had to do immediately the next day. “Do what you write, or you won't rest the next night…” the quote of the day said. He ignored it, but wrote something that oddly rhymed:

“Talk to Dumbledore/Talk to Hermione - they may be right.”

-o0o-

“Sir Lucius, I have the latest report from your men, specifically from the first Group,” said the visiting Death Eater in Lucius' study at the Malfoy Manor later that same night.

“Well, let's hear it, then” said Lucius, looking at him, expecting some progress to his plans. He had been waiting for some concrete news like what the enemy might be planning to do, even as the most trivial of plans that they might be doing for the next vacation was important.

“They're on the move as we speak. We'll have the third subject you want very soon.”

“Good. How about the other tasks?

“The persons you've identified have been pinpointed. The other groups will do their work at the right moment. We shall know how everything went in a matter of days.”

“Thank you, Campion, you're dismissed if you have no other news to report,” Lucius said in an expressionless face, and the Death Eater did not say anything more and left the study. Lucius leaned back on his chair, smirking in an extremely satisfied way.

He was particularly proud of the fact that he had successfully gathered all the people he needed for the job, amazingly on short notice. The plan was top secret and is privy only to him, the Dark Lord, and people he had employed. The success of ultimately snatching the boy directly from Hogwarts for dead would be a marvelous feat and a heavy blow to those who opposed the Dark Lord. At least, this was the next best thing after Potter slipped away from their full grasp the last time. The snatching would not happen this Christmas, though, but in due time in the middle of the term using his mole at Hogwarts.

On top of the Death Eater's report, Draco had notified him a few minutes earlier that Harry Potter will be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. He was expecting Dumbledore would not let Potter out of the safety of Hogwarts, and he wasn't disappointed with Dumbledore's predictability. In fact, Potter's holiday in Hogwarts set the conditions right for his plan to work, which was scheduled to commence shortly after the Hogwarts' students Christmas vacation started. He had made plans to ascertain that Potter would stay back at Hogwarts, or if that can't be done, to be away from his targets. Lucius had a surprise of his own, which he expected some Death Eaters to perform at the dead of the night.

“Dead of the night,” he laughed, “quite fitting.”

Of course, the Dark Lord had approved mostly Lucius had proposed, including the tasks he committed for the next few nights. What a terrible surprise the Wizard world will have in the morning, a taste of what's to come. His Death Eaters have been chomping at the bit for this kind of action, which they missed doing ever since Voldemort disappeared during that fateful encounter with the Potters at Godric's Hollow. Oh, the joy it would bring back to the Death Eater ranks. Muggle torture, Muggle slaughter! Thankfully, the Dark Lord thought that being secretive have outlived its uses since he had built back his small army of Death Eaters in just a short period of time, and this magnificent new Fortress that the Wizard World will learn to fear.

However, wonderful the feeling of being back as it was more than a decade ago, this time it was slightly different for Lucius.

Lucius had already given up with his personal vendetta against the Weasleys, as the last fiasco had caused him great pain. The only thing that was important to him now was to keep himself alive by not failing the Dark Lord's every command from now on. Nothing was now precious but his very own life, praises from the Dark Lord be damned. He had been blundering ever since, and the Dark Lord had not failed to punish him for every disappointment he had brought him, but he was considered a statistical anomaly among his fellow Death Eaters. He had been spared from death so many times when most other Death Eaters had not been lucky to have lived after more than one failure in their record. He was a dead man walking. Such was the terror of serving and defying Voldemort, and Lucius felt that his luck was quickly running out. It was only logical that he'll do everything what Voldemort asks him to do - for Lucius.

Finally, he stood up from his chair, took his white robe from the closet, donned his grey mask, and disapparated to Xanthius to inform Voldemort of the news. It was all systems go and no turning back for Lucius Malfoy. After all, he was left with no choice but to do it.

-->

3. Carpe Retractim

Chapter 2

Carpe Retractum

Harry didn't need to check his daily planner soon after he woke up because he'd been firm about what he needed to do today. He couldn't quite understand at first why he felt so strongly taken aback with what Hermione said the last time they were together. He had remembered, after an hour of thinking before falling to sleep, the reason was perhaps it was only recently that he had almost caused the death of Hermione because he refused to listen to what she tried to point out to him then. Harry had then felt as guilty as when Voldemort took advantage of that and brought him to the brink of joining up with him to escape responsibility. How stupid of him how quickly he'd take Hermione again for granted after the costly lesson he learned, he thought.

He hoped he'd meet her when he went down to the Common Room, but most of the students had already left to have breakfast at the Great Hall. Only Lavender Brown was around organizing her books for the day near the Fireplace.

“Lavender, has Hermione left already?” he asked her as soon as he landed on the Common Room floor.

“Good morning to you, too,” replied Lavender, smiling. “Yeah, she went out pretty early this morning. Why, did you two have another fight or something?”

“Not really - why?” Harry said, surprised. “What happened?”

Lavender hesitated. “Well, she was mess. She kept on crying last night - wanted us to leave her alone. Poor Hermione…” Lavender shook her head and looked sincerely concerned. “I'm beginning to get worried about her…er, sanity. I couldn't forget the look on her face more than a week ago - but this time she's letting off some steam by crying it out. I guess that's a tad better than bottling it all in…”

“I thought she was hurt about something I said, but I didn't realize then until now it was that bad…” Harry said, but Lavender only shrugged. “What do you think should I do?”

Lavender stared, and rolled her eyes. “What else but the obvious…talk to her!”

“Oh, right,” Harry said, feeling stupid. “Thanks.”

He got out of the common room and walked toward the first place he thought he had the best chance of finding Hermione: the Library. Unfortunately, she wasn't there at all after he scoured every aisle and table. Harry then looked around for any signs of bushy brown hair outside the corridors but then Angelina Johnson, the new Quidditch captain, happened to pass by. “Great, I've been looking all over for you!” she said.

“Huh?” Harry muttered.

“Yes, you!” Angelina shot back. “I hope there are no more excuses from you, and just in case you haven't noticed, our first Quidditch match of the year was a week ago. I hadn't had time to look for a substitute Seeker and we were doomed to lose the game with the Slytherins!”

Harry wanted to point out to Angelina that it wasn't his fault the former Head Boy caused him to miss just about every class and event for the last two weeks. Angelina cut him off the moment he opened his mouth to talk.

“Yeah, I know! I know You-Know-Who captured you along with the Weasleys - I know the story quite so well I don't have time to hear the same old story all over again!” Harry was beginning to dislike Angelina quickly because at this point she seemed to be beyond reason.

“Then what do you suppose I had to do back in Xanthius?” said Harry heatedly, making Angelina jerk back a step. “Ask Voldemort” - she jumped again - “for a break from prison because I had to play Quidditch back at Hogwarts because if I didn't, you'd bite my head off? He wouldn't have wanted to get beaten up to it, I wager.”

“Yes!” she said, moving back closer to Harry with her eyes widening. “Now you're thinking! You had the Weasleys with you, didn't you? You could have told You-Know-Who not to worry because you'd come back for them!”

Harry hung his mouth open in disbelief in front of Angelina - he couldn't fathom why someone as intelligent as her could ever think that anyone could hope to get a two-day pass from Voldemort using his friends as insurance.

“Angelina, what have you been eating or drinking lately?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“It's none of your business what I've been taking, Potter!” she spat, getting more irritable. “I want you to report for practice Friday night. The whole Gryffindor team will be there. If you won't, you're out of the team!”

Without waiting for a reply, she stormed through the corridor and bumped every student aside who happened to be in her way. Halfway through disappearing from sight, though, she stopped abruptly and turned back to stare again at Harry.

“No…not that. Just be there or you'll be sorry,” she added and then went on her way.

Harry turned to the opposite direction quickly, placed both of his hands in his robe pockets, and kicked a leg on thin air.

“Pssst, Harry,” said a voice from inside the nearest classroom that sounded like Fred or George's. “Is she gone?”

“If you're talking about Angelina, I don't care!” Harry grumbled, facing the twins.

“Yeah, me too,” said George, dodging Harry's foot as he had taken another swing. “She's become so unbearable since our loss with Slytherin - can't take excuses from anyone!”

“Don't worry about it, mate,” Fred said, grinning. “She doesn't have the will to boot you out…”

“That's encouraging,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Friday is one day before everybody goes for the Holidays for cryin' out loud! And we're gonna have Quidditch practice? What good's it going to do? We'll all be taking on extra weight when get back from the holidays anyway. She's losing it…”

“The reason why we had to risk bumping with Angelina again to find you, Harry,” George said, ignoring Harry's tirade, “is that you have something that we're both really interested on,” George said.

Harry looked at both of them guardedly. “Yeah? What's it that you want?”

George cleared his throat. “It has come to our attention that you possess a pretty rare and slightly used Pocket Portkey.”

“Uh, yeah,” Harry, remembering the little gadget he got from Willard, the former stranger who accommodated and helped him return to the Burrow with Ron. “I bet Ron told you all about that, huh? Can't shut up about anything, he does…”

“It hurts us a great deal when we hear someone talking ill about our favorite brother,” said Fred, mocking faint while George coughed. “His big mouth's proving to be very useful for the business, you know.”

“And you two want it, right?” Harry asked, knowing what was coming. Fred and George said nothing but tap danced in unison in front of Harry, making him laugh at last. “Okay, just remind me before bed to give it you - it's yours! I don't need it anymore.”

“Oh, thanks!” said George excitedly. “But we'll just borrow it; you never know when you'd need it again.”

“Nah…” Harry started, but Fred stopped him.

“We'll return it in due time, sport.”

“We never talked to you…” added George. “You never talked to us about this…”

“Huh?” said Harry.

“Lest you could be in trouble with us for industrial espionage…”

“But we'll roll out our own version for it, don't you worry.”

“You're going to reverse engineer it?” Harry said with genuine interest.

“No way, that's disgraceful!” said Fred, looking scandalized but winked soon after.

“Okay,” said Harry shortly. “I just want to know - have you seen Hermione anywhere?”

The twins sniggered and poked each other with their elbows. “Where else? Library…”

As soon as he heard that, Harry was already on his way back from whence he came, ignoring Malfoy who seemed to have thought of another way to ruin his day. Harry saw Hermione later on walking out of the Library door and ran towards her.

“Hermione!”

Hermione took a couple of seconds to look at Harry, but whipped around to march away from him. She was obviously avoiding him; Harry had been expecting this so he wasn't surprised. He picked up speed, overtook her, and blocked her way in the gentlest way he could possibly do.

“Hermione, please, why are you mad at me?” Harry said pleadingly, opposing her every move to bypass him. “Lavender told me you were crying the whole night. You know it breaks my heart…” At last she gave up and spoke for the first time today.

“Oh, that's nice,” she said sadly, without looking Harry in the eyes. “But you don't seem to want to listen to what I say anymore.”

“But I do…”

“No you don't…you're just saying that to make me feel better. Just so you know it's been getting worse every year. I can't help but think you're gradually shutting me out.”

“No, that's not true, not true at all,” said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing. “You've been my special friend ever since…always.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said, her voice quivering. “Then why is you aren't heeding what I say? Is it because you think I'm a killjoy? Nerdy? Uncool? Miss know-it-all? Afraid I'm going to weed out the thrill out of your plans? It hurts me to think of this but you don't seem to appreciate all the effort I do all these years to make you see sense to every hasty decision you make. Because it always boils down to one thing - I don't want you hurt. I care very much for your safety, Harry…I really do!” Tears started to stream down her cheeks again.

Harry didn't know what to say yet. He knew that Hermione meant well of being against having him out of the protective walls of Hogwarts especially now they knew that Voldemort's may be really out to get him. He had him once; who said he won't do it again? However, he was not that prepared to concede since this would mean giving up on his wish to keep away from total loneliness. Harry thought the only other way to convince him to stay at Hogwarts was that Hermione or Ron would at least decide canceling their plans to go home this Christmas, but he knew it was wrong - he'd surely feel guilty about depriving his friends of a well-deserved holiday with their families. That was already out of the question.

“I've really been dreading this,” Hermione went on, now staring at Harry's eyes though she was blinded with tears. “We've known each other for five years but I've been dreading the time would come I'd ask myself what am I to you.” She took a deep breath and sobbed.

“No…”

“Just recently I've started to ask myself, `am I just a friend for convenience?' Or…”

“No, you're not!” Harry said hotly, so strongly that Hermione stopped talking, stared her tearful eyes at Harry with a hint of fear for a moment, and buried her face in her hands. Harry immediately regretted his sudden outburst and put an arm around her shoulder. She didn't resist, and leaned her whole weight unto Harry.

Harry let out a soft gasp that only he could hear - he felt something different for the first time ever. It was as if he wanted to press Hermione much closer to him than what was possible in the first time. They had hugged before, back at the lake days ago when they talked about Hermione's problems. It was the longest hug that Harry had ever gotten from Hermione, but it didn't strike him then. But this one was different - Harry felt he was now beginning to enjoy it. The feeling of Hermione so close to him was getting wonderful as it was getting scary. A typical boy Harry was, he struggled to act normal as if this hug was like nothing - he almost made it.

Hermione had removed her hands from her face and proceeded to wrap her arms around Harry's waist and rested her head on his chest tightly as she sobbed continuously.

Harry gasped again in surprise. Another emotion came after this second shock. He felt even more care and concern to Hermione than what we had if she hadn't hugged him. He had felt his love for his best friend slightly grow…

Hermione, meanwhile, firmly believed it was perfectly possible that Harry might die soon after he stepped out of Hogwarts; she was torn between her determination to protect him at all cost because she secretly loved him and her wish that he'd have a pretty normal and happy life (she knew how deprived Harry was of that in all of his fifteen years).

Harry, on the other hand, could not then make up his mind aside from dealing with his fresh emotions for Hermione. He hated the mere thought of spending three lonely weeks in Hogwarts all by himself, and he didn't want to give Voldemort the chance to assassinate him outside of Hogwarts either.

They had quite a big difference in sentiments at the moment!

“Oh, Harry, I-I'm so sorry…” she wept. “I'm really, really sorry…”

“It's all right, Hermione,” he said, sighing and patting her back with his hand. “It's me who should be sorry…” He had just noticed that several students have passed them, and some girls were talking excitedly at a corner in hushed tones; they obviously had found a new subject for gossip.

“I came looking for you because I realized last night you meant well,” Harry said. “I couldn't stand leaving you alone hurt by what I've done - whatever I did to hurt you. And…I never knew you to be this emotional…”

“Neither I was so full of myself,” croaked Hermione. “It just dawned unto me. I've been so hurt and thinking about my own feelings I forgot about what you've been through all your life - and the last five years.”

“Yeah, it's been a rocky ride, all right.”

“I want you to be happy - you deserve to be happy. But with him out there, I-I'm so afraid you won't be allowed that, and to lose you…”

Harry took a deep long breath. Hermione really cared for him. He didn't have to use his brains to realize that, of course. Ever since they all became established friends Hermione had shown real concern to him, and at the same time Ron, but this was the very first time she ever admitted her real fears and concerns for him. Only that he'd been stupid as not to notice that every time she tells them off for just about every mischief they made - he didn't know how many times already. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be insufferably indifferent to her, but he knew Ron had a very soft spot for Hermione, too. However, Harry knew Ron as a person who'd rather serve detention all his life rather than admit it openly.

“Voldemort's still scaring you, isn't he?” said Harry softly.

“Who doesn't?”

“Well, true,” said Harry, patting her again on her back and tightening his embrace. “Dumbledore, probably. Do you want to pour out your soul on me now, I'll be all ears,” he added, laughing a little to lighten her up.

Hermione took a while to decide what to answer Harry.

“I want to,” she said, “but probably not for now. Can we keep this aside for a while? Maybe some other time.” Hermione broke away from Harry and she wiped her wet face of tears with her hands. Harry offered her a fresh hanky and she gratefully accepted it.

“Well, if you say so… I'd yet to talk with Dumbledore about the holidays - maybe later. I'll tell you what happened then.” Harry gave Hermione a tentative smile.

“Thanks, Harry,” she said, blowing her nose loudly. “Whatever happens, I guess I'll just think of a way to help you through it…Oh, darn! Sorry, you're missing breakfast because of me…” she sniffed.

Just then Ron appeared around the corner and approached them. “There you are,” he said, panting. “I've been looking all day for you! It's been ten minutes through breakfast and - what happened here?”

“Meet you two in the Great Hall,” she said to Harry. “I'll just fix myself up at the girls' bathroom - I look so silly. I am so silly…” Harry gave her a quick grin and waved at her.

“Harry, what - “

Harry chose to avoid answering Ron directly. He still felt the tension of his embrace with Hermione coursing throughout his whole body and he needed to recover.

“Tell you all about it later,” he said shakily. “C'mon, Ron, let's eat breakfast. I just heard my stomach growling.”

“Have you talked to Dumbledore yet?” asked Ron while he and Harry walked briskly towards the Great Hall.

“Not yet, but I really hope he allows me to stay at the Burrow this Christmas.”

“I'm sure he will, Harry,” said Ron very confidently. “I still don't see any real reason why he won't. And don't let Hermione stop you…”

“Yeah, but she seems okay about it right now. I'm beginning to dread staying here this Christmas all alone with each passing minute.”

As soon as they reached their seats, Harry and Ron wolfed down their eggs, bacon, and toast. Hermione arrived a little later, her eyes still red, but significantly calmer than she was minutes ago. Harry then seemed to be joyful each time he saw her and she smiled back feeling rather embarrassed.

If we're going to hug again, I won't say no, Harry thought dreamily.

At the teachers' table, Dumbledore and the entire faculty were also eating breakfast. This year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Rowel Russelpunk, talked animatedly with Professor Snape (who looked extremely annoyed with him). Professor Flitwick used his fork not as an eating utensil, but a makeshift wand as if he was practicing charms. Madam Hooch didn't seem to mind her breakfast; her eyes were busy scanning the ceiling as if she was expecting something until her face erupted into a big smile when the first wooshing sound reverberated in the Great Hall.

Owl post arrived at the usual time; the owls swooped down on top of their recipients to deliver their packages and mail. It never failed to generate excited talk from the students each time. As Harry had expected, he didn't see Hedwig among the flock of owls. Ron had a small package, apparently from his mother; Hermione had a few letters and a rolled parchment, which Harry recognized as the usual morning edition of the Daily Prophet. He continued eating his breakfast while the Great Hall was full of the sound of paper being ripped and parchment being unrolled, expecting nothing new from the daily ritual.

There was a moment of murmuring of letters being read, and oddly a gasp somewhere, and soon Harry was startled when he heard a scream coming from the direction of the Hufflepuff table, that was followed by a thudding sound from Ravenclaw (the recipient fainted), and weeping from the Gryffindor seventh years.

“Hermione, what's happening?” he said to her, being the first one his eyes caught, but she was looking around as bewildered as everyone else. He looked around, too, hoping someone could talk and make sense of what was happening, but nobody did; the whole Great Hall was filled with anxious and confused talk.

Professor McGonagall came walking down clumsily from the teachers' table towards the Hufflepuff girl, who was hysterically crying and was being comforted by her classmates around her. Dumbledore took off his half-moon specs and rubbed his eyes, reading something and he seemed to look very serious. Hermione had already scanned the Daily Prophet as fast as her still-red eyes could do.

“Hey, what does it say?” Ron asked anxiously. “Quick!”

Hermione turned every page of the issue.

“Nothing,” she said, frowning. “Just reports of cauldrons being stolen, cooking recipes, just nothing!” She sniffed her nose.

“Then what's the meaning of all this?” said Harry, looking around still confused. “I got to know what's happening here - hang on.” He stood up and walked over to Fred and George Weasley, who were part of the Gryffindor seventh years. The looks on their faces as he approached them didn't make Harry feel comfortable.

“Suzy O'Brien's parents have been murdered, I hear,” said George gloomily while he watched Suzy grieving with a friend.

“By who?” said Harry, expecting the worst. Ron and Hermione had followed behind him.

“The Dark Mark was found over their house last night,” added Fred, shamelessly reading Suzy's letter from the Ministry of Magic without her permission. “First time it's happened this kind in fifteen years, this is.”

“Oh, my gosh!” exclaimed Hermione, both her hands on her face. “It's starting to happen again! Isn't it?!?”

“I knew it would so soon,” said Lee Jordan miserably, shaking his head, “after Harry said You-Know-Who's back. We just didn't know exactly when.”

Fred handed Harry the letter and he then read it. It was signed by a Ramius Palkov of the Ministry of Magic.

“Nobody believed what Harry was trying to tell us for months, and that included me,” said Seamus gravely from behind George. “Here's the proof staring at us.” He grabbed the letter and waved it around the Hall for everyone to see. “Potter was right all along! We've been too afraid to believe him…and Dumbledore! You Know Who's back!!!” He looked at Harry again and said, “Sorry for ever doubting you, Harry!”

Harry did his best not to show any visible signs of pleasure of being vindicated. The temptation to say “See, I told you” to everyone was simply overwhelming and he had to control himself. Thanks to Seamus, his words made a big impact on everyone within earshot, like a painful knock in their noggin, and it was good enough for him. For Harry it looked like he got the wish he made in Hagrid's hut yesterday, but instead of making him feel satisfied about it, he felt quite queasy around the stomach.

There were muttering sounds made by the students that suggested they concurred with Seamus, although there were others who vehemently disagreed with everything and dismissed the news entirely. Malfoy and his friends, on the other hand, were the only ones who seemed to be happy with the news. “Told you you'll be next, Mudbloods!” said Malfoy around gleefully.

Ignoring Malfoy, Harry looked around the Great Hall again. It was surreal seeing around him worried-looking faces from all the students - history was now repeating itself. Voldemort was truly back and was starting to do what he did more than 15 years ago; the deaths had heralded his second reign of terror. He couldn't know how it felt then, but this early the tension and the uncertainty for the future was indescribable. The only question was, was the wizarding world ready? What will the Ministry of Magic do for them this time? Would they still deny Voldemort has returned once more now that the Dark Mark was seen hovering over the house of at least three wizard families, who have just been found dead and were apparently murdered?

Amid Malfoy's chuckling, everybody looked at Dumbledore and waited for what he had to say. He was now their ray of hope, as he was before their birth when Voldemort terrorized the wizarding world. He was the one in charge. Sensing most eyes were now looking at him from around the Great Hall, he stood up and looked around. The noise in the Great Hall gradually died down, and all ears were ready and eager to hear his (hopefully) ever-encouraging words. The only sound being heard left where from the orphans, who were still sobbing.

“All `affected' students are excused for the hospital wing for the day and as long as necessary,” he started. “All other students, please proceed to your scheduled classes - you will hear from me again, hopefully. Good day to you all.”

There were voices of protest and incredulity made by students who demanded explanation of what's happened. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't believe they were left hanging by Dumbledore though they thought he was also caught in complete surprise like the rest of them. Some students have already started standing up and walk slowly out of the Great Hall with excited talk but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of the Gryffindors chose to be the last ones out.

Harry couldn't look at Hermione's eyes. He knew what this meant: he was certain what was happening outside of Hogwarts were good enough reasons to have him grounded in Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. How could he now justify to Dumbledore that he had to spend Christmas outside the school now that is was obviously risky to do so?

With all his might, like his eyes weighed a ton, he steered his gaze towards her. She was also looking back at him, but not with her usual “See I told you so” stare, but her face was drawn with sadness and worry - and unspoken pleading for him to think things over very carefully now.

“C'mon, we're gonna be late for class,” said Ron, nudging Harry. “I can't believe we're still having classes after all this!” They were among the last to leave the Great Hall, including Hermione, who fretted along with the whole school.

-o0o-

“It hasn't really started yet,” said Hermione slowly as they walked together along the corridors towards their next class for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“What do you mean?” said Ron, but he suddenly shuddered. “Oh, I get it. We'll see more of this in the coming days…is that it?”

“Not only more of it, Ron,” Hermione replied as they rounded up the corner leading to a very long hall towards their classroom. “I've read about in the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts that V-Voldemort didn't just solely murder anybody in his last reign of terror. He used to kidnap wizards to force them to do something for him, and worse these wizards never knew they were actually working for Voldemort. These wizards served as his secret servants also reporting to him those who might have been planning to oppose him.”

“And?”

“Don't you see? That's why Voldemort was very difficult to defeat. Aside from his vast knowledge and gift of the magical arts, he had his own machinery - and the secret servants. Almost all of these wizards were never known. Rumor has it they have been fed to werewolves or banished to some phantom zone forever after they served their purpose, or just maybe they just ceased to function as servants when Voldemort disappeared. There could still be some remnants today who can be called back to serve again - without their knowledge.

“No real group had ever succeeded in banding up to fight Voldemort - if there was one, some of its members were murdered and the survivors scattered before they could've become a very potent force. That's why the wizard world was so weak against him because it was fractious. Except for one group…”

“What was it called?” asked Harry.

“Legend has it that there was an Order that managed to stand up to the Death Eaters, but it had no name. I couldn't find any other reference to it.”

“Probably because it was so secret,” Harry thought aloud. “They might have done well to choose their members carefully - I wonder what it was called. Say, I'd love to start my own club against him, too.”

“Hey, that's a cool idea, Harry,” said Ron, looking excited. “Count me in…er, maybe next year.”

“I guess from what Hermione's saying,” Harry continued, “forming groups like these would be a big feat because Voldemort got to us first. I bet the Wizard World'll be having another tough time ahead.”

“That doesn't sound very encouraging at all,” Ron said gloomily.

“Yes, that's the problem,” Hermione said, stopping near the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom door. “So knowing Voldemort's back, it's only logical that he might be repeating his strategy. So we must be careful who we talk to when discussing about these `clubs' if we ever hear about them or joining up any. We and our families could be targets for retribution.”

“I think that's not necessary, Hermione, for us at least,” said Ron. “Just about everybody knows we're against You Know Who.”

“Hmmm, that's right,” Hermione said, tapping her chin with a finger, “but we might be endangering others who might want to join up an anti-Voldemort group.”

“Malfoy's got to know something,” Harry muttered.

“What's that?” said Hermione. “Don't forget he loves to think he knows more about something than we do.”

“Remember the brief encounter I had with him yesterday? He said `trust no one', didn't he?”

“Oh, Merlin's beard!” exclaimed Hermione. “His father is a known Death Eater, Harry. Of course he knows about it! Lucius Malfoy surely would've bragged how evil he was as a Death Eater to his own son.”

“Draco was even having fun back in the Great Hall when the bad news broke,” said Ron, his face livid. “He's such a humongous dung pile.”

“And the Ministry of Magic almost had his father…” said Harry. “I could've thrown everyone a party when he would've been locked up in Azkaban.” He sighed.

“It's a shame he got off scot-free,” replied Hermione. “Seems to me it gave even more reason for Malfoy to become cockier. I mean, he now thinks they could get away with just about everything. What do you suppose would happen next?”

“Speaking of Azkaban, I expect we'll see the Dementors joining up with Voldemort soon,” said Harry gravely, eliciting shocked expressions from Ron and Hermione's.

“Why did you ever think of that, Harry?” asked Hermione. “That's terrible!”

“When I met Voldemort at a graveyard last year, I heard him say the Dementors will want to join him. They've become so impatient with the Ministry of Magic for restricting their use of the kiss.”

“Then that means, whenever that happens, they will leave Azkaban and all of the convicted Death Eaters can escape!” theorized Hermione, almost feeling faint.

“Di-arrhea!” exclaimed Ron. He leaned on a wall of the corridor and wiped his sweaty brow with his hand. “Hermione was right, we've seen nothing yet!”

“Does Fudge know about this?” said Hermione with a new sense of urgency. “We must tell him!”

“He knows about it already, Hermione,” said Harry, “at the hospital wing last year. Dumbledore told him that was the first thing to do but he refused to listen, remember? Remember at how relaxed he was when we were called into that little ceremony in Dumbledore's office earlier this term.”

“To tell you the truth, I thought Dumbledore was nuts to suggest that, but now I know…”

Their conversation was cut immaturely when Professor Russelpunk came striding towards them for his Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Russelpunk didn't fail to astonish them every time they saw him in the morning.

“What now?” said Ron under his breath as he goggled at their teacher, along with Hermione and Harry.

Russelpunk wore a very colorful costume today (like he did with his costumes almost everyday) - one with pearly white loose baggy pants, a pink shirt, a black cameraman's vest, dark sunglasses, and blue sneakers with brown socks. He walked like a peacock, in a hip-hop fashion, and carried a whole stack of books. It was a completely different set of clothes he had worn for breakfast. He had obviously gotten back to his quarters to change, thus he was a little late.

Professor Rowwel Russelpunk was about forty, born from Muggle parents, had fair skin and wavy brown hair, and was a tad taller than Harry. Dumblodore had realized too late after hiring him for the year (and after hoping he could stay on for the next several years), that despite the fact got out of Hogwarts in the mid-80's with high marks, he wasn't at all interested in mingling with his fellow teachers. He preferred to hang out with the students - teenagers - trying to fit in with them, and often bragged about how cool he was when he was their age. (This, Dumbledore had surmised, was the reason he was so absent minded and was out of focus about teaching and always came in to class virtually unprepared).

Of course, most of the students found him very annoying and avoided him at all cost. At least the students who took Muggle Studies seemed not to mind being seen hanging out with him, which he found fun, but only to treat him like a specimen; a good source for research. Nothing else!

“Ah, ready for another interesting round of lessons, lion-hearted lads and lovely miss?” he said jovially. “Oh, don't you worry about these books, do you really think we'll finish all of these in an hour?” he joked but Harry, Ron, and Hermione failed to respond immediately; they entered the classroom quickly ahead of him.

“Oh for…here comes the worst Mudblood,” Draco said loudly inside the classroom just as when the whole class gasped after seeing Russelpunk. Hermione, thinking it was her that Draco was referring to, shot him a sharp stare.

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown both giggled at the back of the room, extremely amused with Russelpunk's costume today. “Ooooh, what colorful getup you have today, Professor!” said Lavender. Ron surveyed Russelpunk's clothes with deep interest.

“Thank you very much, Miss Brown,” said the pleased professor. “You know, back in the 80's when you were all little tykes, I was one of the most envied Breakdancers in America when I studied advanced Magic there after Hogwarts, and this was my winning costume!” He raised his hand halfway through the air and spun around for everyone to see. He ended his show by slapping his bulging belly with both hands.

Dean Thomas leaned over to Harry and whispered, “The other day he said he was once a matinee idol.”

“D'you happen to know which movie he appeared in?” said Harry, who knew about movies because he was raised by Muggle foster parents.

“He was one of a thousand zombies in a single scene of the Night of the Terrible Dead. It bombed.”

“Yesterday he wore king's robes,” said Hermione, facing Dean. “He didn't say why. What was he trying to tell us?”

“Go figure,” Dean chuckled.

“Who in his right mind would do a dance and breaking their bones?” said Ron, looking disturbed.

“Good Morning, Fifth years,” said Russelpunk, transferring his hands on his waist and walking deeper to the rows of seats. “Now, as you have known just this morning, the Dark Lord apparently is on a new rampage with the unfortunate news of murders. This would make our lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts more interesting and important, don't you agree?”

Instead of getting sounds of interested talk, the whole class moaned with Russelpunk's statement.

“What's the matter, class?”

“Do you ever need to remind us You Know Who's back, sir?” groaned Seamus. “We were starting to enjoy your - little diversion - we kind of forgot about him for a moment.”

“Now, now, class, don't you despair!” he said with an encouraging voice. “Professor Rowwel Russelpunk is here to teach you the fine art of Defensive Magic, as I have been doing since the start of term. Let's not waste anymore precious time! The Dark Forces are on the move whilst we go idle. Take your wands out, please!”

The whole class obliged. Some students placed theirs on top of their desks, but some like Neville, who was directly in front of Russelpunk, held on to his.

“Good, I shall teach you one of the most important spells you need to know to protect yourself. I'm quite sure you haven't heard of this one. Crucial this one is and you must add it in your personal arsenal of fighting magic - The Disarmament Spell!”

“Expelliarmus!” he bellowed after designating Neville's wand as his target.

The spell worked perfectly as it should, but Neville's wand sped straight towards Hannah Abbot's forehead and knocked her down off her seat. Quite a few students screamed.

“Oh, got carried away there, sorry,” said an embarrassed Russelpunk. “Are you all right, there, Miss Abbot?” he called, sounding worried.

Hannah, with a darkening spot on her central forehead, nodded groggily as she attempted to get back up on her seat. Ernie McMillan, who gone over to help her up said, “Sir, but we already had that during Second Year.”

“Oh,” said Russelpunk, his face reddening. “Oh, I see. Then I guess that one's off the list for today.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged; Russelpunk strode towards his desk to cross something out on a long parchment. “Professor Snape was very gracious to help me come up with the rest of the year's lesson plan,” he explained, laughing nervously.

For the next half hour Russelpunk proposed from what was written on his list a few “new” lessons for the class to teach, but each time some students informed him on what year they had already learned the subject. First, Russelpunk introduced a lesson about the Flipendo Spell, but Ron pointed out Professor Quirrel had already taught them that during their first year.

Halfway through it was Diffindo (the spell that repulses violent plants, second year) until they jumped to Dark Creatures (which they studied in their third year) and the Unforgivable Curses (Fourth Year). Giving up, Russelpunk folded his parchment with extreme disappointment. “Does anybody know of a spell you haven't learned yet?” he sighed.

“Oh, Please! You're supposed to know more about us - you're the teacher!” said Draco insolently. Russelpunk heard him, but said nothing in return, and gazed down on the floor disenchanted. The Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors felt growing sympathy for him, while the Slytherins cheered and jeered. Draco bent towards Harry and said something only he could hear.

“He doesn't know anything because he's a Mudblood,” Draco said, with extreme pleasure. Harry threw a scathing look at Malfoy, who was so pleased with himself.

Ron looked for help and bent over to Hermione, who had also heard Draco's remarks. “Quick! Think of something for Russelpunk!” Hermione then raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” said Russelpunk, looking up slowly.

“There's one thing, sir, that we're so interested in learning,” she said. “It's perfect for our O.W.L. exams this year - the Carpe Retractum Spell.”

Russelpunk's gloomy face quickly changed into a big smile, and the whole class except the Slytherins began to stir with interest.

“Why…yes, yes!” said Russelpunk happily, looking thankful. “How could I forget about that one? Silly me. Thank you, Miss Granger! Uh, take ten points for Gryffindor!” The class clapped their hands in relief and the professor walked away from his seat with fresh confidence.

“But, Hermione, that one's for Charms,” hissed Ron. Hermione, however, waved an impatient hand at him and told him to shut up.

“Right, then, the Carpe Retractum Spell,” said Russelpunk taking out his wand. (Neville and some students sat lower on their seats.) “Who can tell me the applications of Carpe Retractum? Yes, Ms. Granger!”

“It causes the spellcaster to grapple permanently seated objects with his wand to cross over some obstacles like deep chasms, and the like,” recited Hermione. “You could hang on and swing it like a vine until you release the spell.”

“Cool! Like Tarzan!” exclaimed Dean.

“Who?” Ron said.

“Couldn't have said it better myself, Ms. Granger,” said Russelpunk. “Take two points for Gryffindor. Additionally, it's also used for pulling objects up to ten times heavier than the spellcaster for a few feet. The difference of a fairly similar spell to this one is that Accio is used to summon for light objects from farther distances, but Carpe Retractum is the logical choice of a spell to apply if you want to pull boulders, tree trunks, and other heavy things.

“The only disadvantage for using this spell is that it drains a significant amount of mana, the wizard's magical strength. So you need to use this spell sparingly. Otherwise, you'd drop exhausted. The incantation for this spell is the same as its name. Carpe Retractum. Who wants to try it first?”

More than half of the class raised their hands, but Russelpunk seemed to treat Hermione with more attention now. It may have only been out of appreciation that she rescued him out of extreme embarrassment.

“Ah, Miss Granger, of course, would you like to try the spell for the class to see?”

Hermione popped out of her seat excitedly and leaped to the front of class in a single bound.

“Hold on while I'll conjure a heavy boulder for you to practice on, Miss Granger,” said Russelpunk. “How heavy - I mean - light are you?”

“About ninety five pounds, sir,” Hermione replied.

“Okay, that means I'd make a rock up to ten times your weight - I'll shave it to half since this is your first time.” Hermione winked at Harry, who grinned back; the majority of the class looked on at her expectantly.

Whump! Crash!

“There we go! A nice round little four hundred pound boulder,” said Russelpunk in front of the shiny grey rock, seated on a freshly damaged hole on the crumbling wooden floor. “Get ready now, Miss Granger! This spell has the range of a hundred feet, class. Say the word…and pull.”

Hermione happily obliged and simply pointed her wand at the small. “Carpe Rectractum!”

BOOM!

However, something went wrong with her spell! Hermione's wand created a strong invisible explosion causing all students to be thrown off their seats; its shockwave collapsed part of the brick-stone wall and shattered glass from the window panes. Students screamed and ran out in panic as part of the classroom ceiling came crashing down on everyone, covering the whole room with a blanket of thick dust. After Harry felt a few pairs of feet stepping on him on the floor, he frantically felt for Ron, who was also on the floor beside him, but unhurt.

“Bloody hell! What was that?” Ron said, coughing and gasping for air.

“Hermione's spell backfired!” Harry said painfully. “Big time!”

“Backfired?!? B-but that's impossible…”

“C'mon, I think the room's clear - let's check on her and the professor!”

Harry and Ron blindly felt towards the spot where they last saw the professor and Hermione, shoving loose wood fragments aside as they went. When they reached the area, the dust was already thinning and they could see partly ahead of them.

“Blimey - this is déjà vu all over again…” said Ron, referring to their recent experience in Xanthius when the former Head Boy Jack Chadron caused the fortress' ceiling to collapse that killed himself.

“Hermione! Professor Russelpunk!” called Harry, coughing, but he could only hear Russelpunk's painful moaning. He had been thrown straight into the rock he had conjured and he hit his shin; he was holding his bleeding leg very painfully. “Are you okay, sir?”

“Oh, I feel marvelous,” said Russelpunk, wincing. “I'm no good…please look around for others who might be hurt, will you?”

They had found Hermione within a second. She, however, laid down on the floor, apparently out cold, and piece of wood from the ceiling had pinned her body on to the floor. Harry let out a dry sob.

“Oh, my god,” said Ron. “Let's take that thing off her!”

“W-we'll do it very slowly,” Harry said. They both held the piece of ceiling and heaved, then threw it aside. Ron knelt beside Hermione and rested her head on his lap. There was no sign of blood on her aside from small bruises on her face, and Ron felt initially relieved.

“Thank goodness she's still breathing,” Ron said, and Harry nodded.

Madam Pomfrey had appeared at the doorway, heavily panting.“I heard there was a magical accident here! What happened? My goodness!”

Harry knew that Madam Pomfrey thought it was completely unlikely that the brightest witch of the school could cause this mishap, but he didn't care at all. He knew he had to bring her up to the hospital wing at that instant. The only thing stopping him was he wasn't sure if it was safe to do so then; she might have injured her spine. Thus, he hesitated to lift her.

After checking on Hermione, Madam Pomfrey declared it was okay for her to be transported up to the hospital wing - she had no broken bones. Harry and Ron wanted to go with her, too, but they were still covered with white dust from head to toe.

“Don't you dare come into my hospital wing in that state, boys!” warned Madam Pomfrey as she carried Hermione off in a conjured hovering stretcher. “You clean up first!”

“No, she can't tell us that!” said Ron angrily to Harry, dancing uncertainly on the spot and shedding loose bits of dust. “This is an emergency!”

“I'll go with them, Ron!” Ginny said, running and passing them from behind. She, too, had heard about the accident and got there to see for herself. “See you there later!”

Harry had managed to hold on to Ron to calm him down, although he also needed someone to do the same to him. Amid the sounds of choking and gasping for breath by their other classmates, and the mumur of other students who went to the scene out of curiosity, Harry and Ron just stood still in the middle of the long corridor looking at the direction Madam Pomfrey had disappeared with Hermione and Ginny, hearing nothing else but the heavy pounding of their hearts.

For Harry, it wasn't only pounding. It was crying.

-->

4. Ears and Fears

Chapter 3

Ears and Fears

“Is she going to be allright?” asked Harry very anxiously to Madam Pomfrey an hour later in the hospital wing. Harry and Ron took long to rid themselves of sticky dust back in Gryffindor tower, as requisite to be allowed inside. Ginny had already left the hospital wing for her next class.

“She's still unconscious,” replied Madam Pomfrey as she looked at her patient, “but the good news is that I found no real lasting damage to her, initially. What only concerns me is what her condition could be when she comes to.”

“What does that mean?” said Ron.

“Well, she had one real big knock on her head when she hit the floor; she could be confused for a while just after she wakes up. Then we'll see how her mind does for a few days and we then we can know she's fully okay.”

“That sounds like she might crack up?” Harry said, getting more worried. “How can you tell?”

“I've experienced many cases similar to this,” said Madam Pomfrey, choosing to ignore Ron's whimpering. “It's not just about the knock of her head to the floor - the accident was magical. Every spell, every wand - it's different. The effect can cause worse cases, like what Mr. Weasley's wand did to Gilderoy Lockhart years ago, but in some cases they turn out to be nothing. And you said she was complaining about her wand not working the way it should, haven't you?”

“Yes, but I don't' really know for sure. She might have been not concentrating enough and thought it was defective.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded and bit her lower lip. She knew very well that having a magical accident caused by a perfectly functioning wand was trouble enough, but with broken wands, anything could happen terribly out of sync. Harry's statement did not make things clear to her at all; unless she got all the facts right about the true nature of the accident, she would not know the full extent of the effects it has caused on Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey could only sum up the best answer she can give Harry at that moment, since he was the one who seemed to be the most worried, doing her best not to make him troubled even more and not to sound too optimistic about something that was still unknown. Nevertheless she prayed Hermione would be spared from deeper danger - she had grown to really like this student. She didn't deserve to be disabled for the rest of her life. She looked again at Harry and Ron, who with the looks on their faces, appeared to be in the brink of faint from extreme anxiety.

“That makes me unsure of her future state - a bit,” she said broodingly, the best she could explain to them. “There are so many variables to deal with when it comes to magical accidents. A Healer like me doesn't have the magic answer to everything, Harry. We have our own limitations, but I might just only be scaring you the way I talk - I'm not really sure. That's the problem - no one's real sure. I always don't say everything's okay until I'm quite sure about it - we work from the worst case to the best. Look, I'll stay on to her constantly, Harry, and I will do the best that I can to heal her, okay?”

Madam Pomfrey's voice had become soft to the end, and she patted a hand on Harry's shoulder and excused herself so that she could attend to her other patients.

Harry and Ron nodded uncertainly, and decided by themselves they'll just have to wait for anything that may arise with Hermione's condition. For how long, they didn't have a clue. She looked very peaceful as she lay there in one of the hospital beds, like she was just taking a nap. Her bed was adorned with the best looking flowers students and teachers could conjure (like they had when news of Hermione's fit in front of Snape weeks ago spread like wildfire). The three students who had their relatives murdered were also admitted to the hospital wing to be given forced sleep. Harry and Ron took chairs and sat down miserably at Hermione's bedside.

“Poor Hermione,” said Ron…

“Yeah.”

“No, I really mean, poor Hermione.”

Harry stared at Ron. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ever since this year's start of term she's been through a lot of trouble. Let me refresh your mind: she became the favorite choice of an obsessed Oarling, then there's her lone run-in with Death Eaters just to prove I hadn't tried to kill Dumbledore. Next she was almost eaten by an angry dragon, then this! What next?”

“Oh, I never thought that, collectively at least, but I think the Dragon thing doesn't count because it turned out to be Norbert.”

“Luckily! But I bet she was so scared when she thought it was just another Dragon,” Ron pointed out. “That was awfully traumatic, you know.”

“I suppose so, and add the fact that she's become very emotional - and sensitive - with just about everything. She used to be so cool and always in charge.”

“I'm scared, Harry,” Ron said slowly. “I'm so scared for her. I'm beginning to regret I've been so mean to her with all the great things she done for me? I never got to thank her for it.”

“Ron, you sound like she's dying,” Harry said, getting a little annoyed. “Stop talking like that.”

“Yeah…sorry,” replied Ron guiltily. A short bell rang from outside, which signalled 20 minutes have already gone through classes, the limit of being considered late. “We've just missed double Potions.”

“Just about the subject we're always willing to skive off…”

“And you're excused, Mr. Potter and Weasley,” said Professor McGonagall from behind them. Harry and Ron jumped; she had just come in the hospital wing to look at her students. “Professor Snape was furious you'd be absent today, but I took care of that. How is Miss Granger doing?”

“Still - sleeping, Professor,” said Harry. “But we'll stay with her until she comes to.”

McGonagall looked at Harry and Ron with admiration for a moment, having witnessed their special bond for years, but being a strict mentor got back to her again. “You know the rules, boys; miss two consecutive classes a day unexcused - that's Transfiguration for you, and I'll have you both suspended!”

Harry and Ron groaned. They had been hoping to be excused with just about every subject for the rest of day because of what happened to Hermione, but they quickly took that desire off after realizing that was being cruel to a friend who had just been brought in for injuries to use her as an excuse. Professor McGonagall, however, softened up again and patted Harry on his back gently.

“Don't worry about her, Potter,” she said delicately, “I know she's very strong. I have every confidence with Madam Pomfrey's abilities.” Harry nodded with appreciation.

“Professor,” said Ron tentatively, “Professor, we've been kept in the dark about what's happening outside the school because of classes - any more news of what's happening around?”

“None, fortunately. But as you have known, Mr. Weasley, for this morning alone, about five wizards and witches have been murdered apparently by Death Eaters. After fifteen years of calm, it looks like You-Know-Who's usual activities are beginning to make a comeback - this has been the most significant murders with the Dark Mark ever committed since the last one, which was the murder of your parents, Harry.”

“It's bad that the wizards they killed just now were all related to Hogwarts students, right?” said Harry. “What do you think this means, Professor?”

“Coincidence, perhaps,” said McGonagall, as she glanced towards the other beds containing the students who just had their parents murdered, feeling genuinely uncomfortable. “We won't know for sure until we see more of these murders and disappearances like we had experienced before. Oh, Merlin! You don't know how it felt to live in those days - it's happening all over again. You boys better be careful from now own. Don't you go into stupid little adventures, will you? Heaven forbid, you'll know for sure how it felt like then - very, very soon, I expect.”

“There was an Order once who stood up against You-Know-Who,” said Harry after remembering what Hermione shared to them earlier. “I'd like to know more about them, though,” he said determinedly.

“What are you talking about, Potter?” McGonagall said, looking surprised. “Where did you hear that rubbish?”

Harry and Ron were taken aback for a moment. For them any group who formed against Voldemort could not have been referred to as nonsense. “Hermione told us she read about it in a book, Professor,” said Ron unhurriedly. “Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.”

McGonagall breathed deeply for a moment and she went into a hasty smile. “Oh, of course, of course,” she said with an uneasy laugh. “Quite a girl, she is, isn't she?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other with puzzled faces. Harry, however, had ideas coming to his mind, like finding out what this so-called Order was.

“Well, I almost forgot why I came here in the first place,” McGonagall said with a significantly regained composure. “I have to know what really happened in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. You two were closest to the accident so, please, I'd appreciate it if you could fill me in.”

Harry did most of the talking; he reconstructed everything from Professor Russelpunk's entrance until the fateful accident while McGonagall took notes.

“Do you have Miss Granger's wand, Harry?” she said, and Harry took Hermione's wand out from his pocket and gave it to McGonagall. She examined it and murmured a few words while she did so, until, “Her wand looks fine to me, but it's best if she complains about this to Mr. Ollivander - he's the expert - he may just replace it with a much more effective one. Our wands have a lifetime guarantee though there's always another waiting to choose us if needed.”

Just then, they whipped their attention to Hermione, because they had felt she had moved.

“She's back, Harry, she's back!” said Ron happily though with some apprehension. Hermione indeed had moved, and she turned her head over her pillow slowly to her right. She gradually opened her eyes. She looked unaware as to her whereabouts; her eyes tried to focus on Harry for a few moments and then she breathed deeply.

“Hermione, can you hear me?” Harry said carefully. However she didn't respond thru words, but stared at him and Ron and back slowly, as if she didn't know who they were. This scared Harry and Ron even more.

“Why isn't she responding?”

“Don't worry about that,” said Madam Pomfrey, walking over towards Hermione's bed and feeling her pulse, feeling excited that she now at least had shown signs of activity. “She just had a strong accident so she's a little confused - she won't know where she is or who's talking to her but it's natural - very temporary. The good news for the meantime is that my latest test results indicate no apparent damage on her brain or any part of the body, but she'll have a real nasty headache until tomorrow, at least.”

“No apparent damage?” Harry repeated. “That means she's not out of the woods yet?”

“That's right,” Madam Pomfrey nodded. “I won't truly know after we can both have a nice little conversation, Potter. By then you can be sure you'll be the next to know. Please come back on your next free time besides lunch. I need to attend to her - alone.” Madam Pomfrey didn't wait for any more words from Harry and Ron. She shooed them away and quickly hid herself and Hermione behind the curtains surrounding the bed, which closed out their view of her completely.

Harry felt even more anxious for any definite news was still left hanging. Ron shook Harry's arm and gently jerked his head towards the exit sympathetically; Professor McGonagall patted Harry and Ron's shoulders as she steered them both gently out of the hospital wing.

-o0o-

It seemed to be the longest one and a half hours of doing nothing off classes for Harry and Ron. They kept on looking at the clock, wishing it would go faster until the next break time that afternoon so that they could see how Hermione was again.

Harry was the most affected of the two with Hermione's accident. He couldn't believe something terrible as this could happen so suddenly, threatening to change everything. He remembered it was only this morning that he had been with Hermione soothing her to stop her from crying, and then for what seemed as an instant she was now lying on a hospital bed. Harry couldn't take off the persisting memory imprinted in his mind of Hermione looking up at him and not knowing who he was - it was just too painful to bear.

Harry had thought of writing to Sirius to at least take some of his awful feelings off his chest, but no words came into his mind to put into parchment. He later only settled for a few words, though, and his letter read:

Padfoot,

New murders. Hermione seriously hurt in class. Fortress out there. Everything's getting crazy before Christmas. We need to talk. Don't know how.

Harry.

“Are you done with that yet?” said Ron, his head slumped on his desk, holding his own letter to his parents. “C'mon, let's send these before lunch.”

Harry and Ron had walked to the Owlery and were met with a long queue of anxious students braving the snow outside leading towards it. For them they have never seen such a sight before in their lifetime at Hogwarts.

“What the…” said Harry, dazed at the amazing sight.

“All of the school owls have left,” Neville told him. He stood and waited along the line holding a rolled piece of parchment. “Everybody's scared. Seems to me everyone's trying to write to their families to ask about how they are. I'm asking Grandma how we could slip out off King's Cross without stumbling into Death Eaters.”

Luckily for Harry and Ron they didn't have to wait in line for the next available owl. All they had to do was call down Hedwig (and Pig for Ron) from her perch. When Harry's snowy owl had landed on his forearm, quite a few students had spotted that and they ran towards Harry begging to have their letters sent, too, using Hedwig. Fearing of being swamped, Harry and Ron ran out of the Owlery and as far away from it as they could. While they ran, they hastily instructed their owls what to do and let them fly off very quickly, leaving some exasperated students standing in the middle of the field away from the queue.

“That would have been a crazy mob, that was,” said Ron, catching his breath along with Harry at the castle side entrance. Their unexpected exercise did something good, at least, because they both finally felt genuinely hungry and decided they really needed to eat lunch.

The Great Hall was always filled with hungry students during lunchtime everyday, but today was different for it was only half-filled (half of the student body was still out at the Owlery). At least Harry and Ron didn't feel it to be overcrowded while they ate their lunch in silence. It was still only Day One of Voldemort's new terror campaign and Harry already saw the abrupt change of life in Hogwarts that he had known and gotten used to for more than four years. How much more if this could he see if it was drawn out, he thought. He didn't want to think about it, and hoped much like the others this new war of wizards would end quickly on his side's favor.

Fred and George transferred their plates from their places to the front of Harry and Ron. “I heard Fudge's going to Hogwarts tonight to make a personal announcement at dinner, Harry,” said Fred quietly.

Harry and Ron looked up at Fred and George, puzzled. This was highly unusual. The Ministry of Magic was going out of his way of work to address a school? He could have just sent an emissary in his behalf.

“Any idea why he has to do it himself?” asked Ron.

“Get real, Ron!” said George. “If we did, then everybody would already know about it and he'd be canceling travel plans.”

“It could be important to him,” considered Harry. “Maybe we'd get answers soon, or he'll be giving us instructions how to band together and fight You-Know-Who.”

“That's a little bit dangerous, if you ask me,” said George grimly. “One, we're still toddlers on what we know about magic compared to You-Know-Who; two, there are dung piles in Hogwarts like Malfoy who'd be happy to report to their Death Eater parents everyone signing in to fight You-Know-Who; and three, Fudge still refuses to believe You-Know-Who's back, remember?”

“Then what's the reason he'd be coming here then?” said Ron.

Fred and George just stared at Ron, rolled their eyes, and walked off.

“To make an announcement, Ron,” hissed Harry.

Ron looked at Harry shamefacedly.

“Look, Harry, we could probably stand up against You-Know-Who if the whole of Hogwarts joined forces,” said Ron as they walked to Transfiguration. “And then with graduates, some.”

“I don't really know why I'm not so sure about that,” Harry said. “I mean, look at what Pettigrew did - he killed a dozen Muggles with just one spell once, and he's a blundering bloke compared to You-Know-Who. I bet You-Know-Who can wipe out every student in Hogwarts in a heartbeat, a thousand to one.”

“I think you're overrating You-Know-Who already, Harry, you now seem to be pessimistic anyone could really beat him,” Ron said, with a hint of gloominess in his voice. “You've faced him quite a few times, right? And the last time we faced him we survived, didn't we?”

“We escaped without giving him a scratch, Ron,” Harry corrected. “On the contrary we were literally beat up. We got lucky.”

“Oh, okay,” said Ron slowly. “But maybe the next time he won't be as lucky.”

“We'll have the chance, Ron,” said Harry encouragingly, stopping at the middle of the corridor. “It's probably not the time yet, but we'll ultimately kick his arse, I'm sure of it. We're always one against him, aren't we? Stay strong together?” Harry held out a hand for Ron to shake. Ron looked at it for a while, and broke into a big smile.

“No need to say it, Harry, but what the hell…stay strong together, we do!” He took Harry's hand, shook it, and they both pounded their chests with each other's fists. Ron's was a little strong for Harry, though, causing Harry to miss a lot of air and Ron apologized all the way to Transfiguration.

-o0o-

About a quarter hour into Transfiguration with the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs, Professor McGonagall noticed her class didn't pay her full attention to follow through her lessons. Just about everyone looked pensive.

“Remember, class, your O.W.L. tests are coming,” she said irritably with her hands on her hips. “I don't really like the learning attitude you're showing to me right now. Keep on with it, and you'll have less O.W.L.s than you thought you could get.”

“Please, Professor, we're still in a bit of a shock after this morning's news,” said Justin Flinch-Fletchly timidly. “We still don't know what to expect what would happen now that You-Know-Who's back - we were still babies then when he was on his peak.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” said a male Hufflepuff student loudly at the back of the class. “Do you really think the murders were the work of You-Know-Who, Justin?” He then stood up from his seat and shouted to the whole class, “Do you really believe he's back because of some random killings out there? It could have been the handiwork of a copy-cat to throw the Ministry of Magic off…”

“Yes, in fact he does,” interrupted Hannah Abbot angrily (she had a new strip of band-aid on her forehead). “Me…just about everyone does. The signs are there, Zach! What more do you really want for proof?”

“Quiet, please,” said McGonagall calmly.

“What signs, Hannah?” said Zach, ignoring McGonagall. “They're just deaths, mysterious deaths! Nothing's happening out of the ordinary!”

“What about the week before last - the Death Eaters at Hogwarts rounding us up in the Great Hall?!?” reminded Hannah, her voice even more rising. “Don't tell me you think it was nothing out of the ordinary! I colorfully remember you wet your pants!”

Most of the class broke into laughter.

“They weren't Death Eaters - they were bad Ministry Wizards!” Zach pressed to escape embarrassment. “And, oh! You're trying tell me you also believe Potter's stories about meeting You-Know-Who face to face, this year and last, in a rinky-dink fortress in the middle of nowhere?”

Harry could not take it any longer. One more such rebuttal was enough after so many. He stood up and made a furious move towards Zach.

“If you have a problem with that, Zach, I don't care! Just shut up! Just shut up! I was there - Ron, Ginny, Hermione - we were there! We were lucky to get out alive!”

“That's rubbish!” Zach yelled. “And you know it!”

“That's enough!” roared McGonagall. Harry and Zach still looked at each other in daggers while the whole class watched them in silence. “Back to your seat, Potter. I said back!” she said, pointing him to his seat.

Harry angrily went back to his desk and kicked it out of alignment.

“One more of that and I'll have you sent to the Headmaster, Potter,” warned McGonagall. “Mr. Smith, I don't want any more unwarranted outbursts in my class, do you understand?” she then said, her face red with rage. Zacharias Smith slumped back on his seat with his arms across his chest, looking cheeky.

“Then what do you think, Professor?” Zach asked forcefully after a few seconds of silence.

“What do I think of what, Mr. Smith?” said McGonagall, looking back at him with her nose flaring and her lip thinning like a strand of thread. Sensing the professor would snap his head off the next time he did that again, he repeated his question, but this time significantly milder.

“What do you think about You-Know-Who? Is he really back on a rampage like everybody seems to be stupid to believe?”

McGonagall stared at Zacharias Smith for a long time, and that effectively calmed the boy down fully, satisfying Ron.

“The news we heard today from are still under investigation and it is for the Ministry of Magic to decide if it is truly the work of You-Know-Who,” McGonagall said, walking around slowly in the room and looking at all of her students.

Harry heard someone say “Ha!” and he bet his glasses it was Zach, and he didn't want to know further lest he'd turn him into a baboon.

McGonagall ignored Zach, and talked on.

“The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has notified Professor Dumbledore this morning he will be personally making an announcement to the student body and faculty at dinner, but the subject of the announcement is still unknown up to this time until we hear it.”

There was excited talk among the rest of the class, but Harry and Ron didn't already find that as a surprise.

“But take this from me,” continued McGonagall, now facing the whole class, “that I truly believe You-Know-Who, a.k.a. He-Who-Must-Be-Named, is again making his presence felt, and we will see more terrible things to happen in the near future as it was before you were born.” Virtually the whole class moaned and groaned with increasing fear; though McGonagall had said her credible piece, there were still some remnants of unbelievers left in the ranks.

“His fortress - You-Know-What - what does it look like, Harry?” asked Seamus, who was seated a couple rows behind him.

Harry regarded him for a moment then looked around the class. He saw all eyes and ears were upon him, then he turned his gaze towards McGonagall as if to ask her if it was okay to answer Seamus, and he got a curt nod from her. He sighed.

“It was bigger than Hogwarts,” Harry said initially. “It was of dark blue-grey color, made of stone, mossy - very gloomy - storm clouds, lighting everywhere, dark skies…it had a very high tower reaching up to the clouds…”

“And dungeons…” added Ron slowly.

“And Dungeons,” repeated Harry. “Lord Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who had a throne room as vast as the Great Hall, and he was flanked by Death Eaters wearing masks and white robes. They laughed with glee while we stood up in front of You-Know-Who in the middle of the throne room. Mirthless laughter all around. Hermione was screaming in my mind, accusing me of causing her death. He almost had me - if not for Ron.

“Then I heard You-Know-Who say from this fortress he'd rule the wizard world this time with an iron fist, and those who opposed him will suffer no less than death…Muggles will learn of him but they will be too late to react. He will commit genocide - Muggles, and Muggleborns will be either turned into slaves…or killed whatever he fancied…”

Some of his classmates gasped and cried in horror upon hearing this. Harry told his story while he stared vacantly at a spot on the floor. His memories in the Dark Fortress came crashing in his mind, enveloping his thoughts as if it was happening all over again for real. He had learned how to forget them, but once he'd remember it again out of the blue, the whole experience would take over his mind again like a dark cloud. He could not understand why fear had always accompanied this certain memory even though he didn't fear saying Voldemort's name, and that it was strange his recollection of his first encounter with Voldemort in the graveyard was not as profoundly terrible as this.

But still he kept talking about it.

“Monkey-like creatures called Imps,” he continued, “they populated the fortress; they were scary, had very sharp claws and teeth. They were fast - thousands of them - really fast…surrounded us…b-bored down on us when we ran for our lives. W-when we tried to escape up the tallest tower, and we could only see endless ocean all around - but earlier we stood on dry grassy ground going in to the castle. It seems once you got in, you can never get out. If we weren't rescued by Hermione with a dragon she knew, we would have been eaten by the Imps raw…Dementors would then suck our soul…and…and…”

Harry felt a hand gently clasp and squeeze his shoulder. It was Professor McGonagall gesturing him that he had told his story enough - he then heard the air around him return. It seemed while he relived his terrible experiences in Xanthius, sound had completely vanished. He looked around, and he saw his classmates stare at him with frightened faces having heard his story: Susan Bones' lower lip was quivering, Hannah Abbot was whimpering. Dean Thomas looked pale despite his dark skin, and Neville, well, he had fainted. Fear had won over the whole classroom. Harry had been talking for only a minute, but to everyone it felt like time had stood still.

Shortly there was a knock on the door. Madam Pomfrey had gotten in the classroom without anyone noticing her. “Excuse me, Professor McGonagall,” she said. “Hermione has fully regained consciousness - she's all right, and she pleaded to see Harry and Ron as soon as possible.”

Without ever looking at McGonagall anymore, Harry and Ron quickly passed Madam Pomfrey and ran as fast as they could towards the hospital wing.

-o0o-

Harry could have embraced Hermione on the spot with extreme happiness of seeing her sit up on her bed, but he had to take hold of himself fearing he might hurt her even more.

“I'm so glad you're all right, Hermione!” said Harry breathlessly, holding a stitch on his side. “I thought I'd really lose you!”

“Oh, Harry, it was just a little accident, but thanks,” Hermione giggled. She straightened upright with difficulty; Ron helped her up and turned the bed crank to give her the right amount of recline.

“A little accident?” said Ron as he returned to her bedside. “Madam Pomfrey even looked so unsure over you.”

“Madam Pomfrey said I was lucky though,” she said, feeling tired of her exertion. “I don't know why, perhaps the spell was pretty powerful enough to knock me out cold.”

“And the whole classroom,” Ron reminded Hermione. “What did she say about you after you came to?”

“She said I'll live, of course, but she warned me to watch out - after she gave me more tests she said I might get occasionally confused at times in the coming weeks - it goes with such accidents, according to her.”

“Did she say for how long?” said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing with new concern.

“For a few minutes at times; but a couple of months or so it will just go away, definitely. Ow!” Hermione grimaced in pain and pressed her hand over her forehead, having another extreme headache.

“And a few big headaches the coming days to boot…” she added. She closed and opened her eyes, and panted slightly.

“And no more permanent damage, I hope,” Harry said, fighting the urge to hold Hermione's head for her for a while or not.

“No…No permanent damage, Harry, she promised me,” Hermione said with slight difficulty, closing her eyes again and laying back on her bed to help take away the pain off her head.

Harry looked on at Hermione sadly. Despite Hermione's assurances about what Madam Pomfrey told her, he still felt she still was not all right and she would still have loads of problems ahead of her caused by her accident.

“I think you need to get more rest - we must go…” he said slowly.

Hermione's eyes snapped open. “Go? Rest?” she said, sitting upright again. “Don't be silly. I want to talk - I'm bored to death here…what's happening around here? What was it I wanted to ask you…oh, have you already talked to Dumbledore, Harry?”

Harry dropped his breath and laughed softly. “Oh, that. The Christmas holiday thing…forgot about that after what happened…no, not yet. Later, I guess. Or tomorrow - when I'm ready.”

“It's Thursday, Harry, you need to talk to him today or tomorrow,” reminded Ron. “He probably just wants to ask you to bring him something back from vacation.”

“Another one of your brilliant theories, eh, Ron?” said Harry, finally laughing for real. With Hermione's insistence, Harry and Ron filled her in with the events that she missed today, including Fudge's plan to come over to Hogwarts the following night. Hermione found that the most intriguing.

“Hmmm, I wonder what he'll say tonight, but I bet it's about the murders and probably some words of comfort,” she theorized. “I really, really need to listen to him tonight…”

“Oh, no you're not, Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said severely as she entered the hospital wing. “You're not going anywhere until I say so.”

“Please, Madam Pomfrey, please?” pleaded Hermione. “I got to hear everything he has to say - it might become a historical speech especially with what's happening lately and I want to be part in it.”

Madam Pomfrey snorted. “Historical? Hmmphh. I find his speeches pretty dull if you ask me. Fudge is no Dumbledore, Hermione, you stay. End of discussion,” she said with finality and she walked off to a faraway potions cabinet. Hermione sunk deeper under her blanket in disappointment and closed her eyes again.

“We'll just repeat everything he said for you, Hermione…” said Harry, though he was not really sure if he could ever recall everything Fudge might have said tonight because his speech would probably drone on for hours. Hermione's face had screwed up again with pain on her head, and what Harry could only do was look on at her helplessly. He started to fix her bed spread so that she could lie down more snugly; Ron had noticed that, too, and he walked over to the other side of the bed to do the same thing. Hermione had opened her eyes again and noticed what they had done, and she beamed at them in appreciation.

Madam Pomfrey had returned with a steaming goblet of liquid with the color of vomit (Ron suddenly turned nauseous when he saw it).

“Hermione, you have to take this,” she said gently, handing Hermione the goblet, “and I have to ask Harry and Ron to leave you again to rest for an hour - by then you'll be awake again in time for afternoon break when they could visit you again…”

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron apologetically.

Ron said, “Don't worry, Hermione, we'll be back at break time. Sleep well, sport, okay?” They wouldn't leave her at all until she had drunk her potion and she had sunk into a deep sleep - it took a slightly long time because she seemed to refuse to take Harry and Ron off her sight, but soon the effect was so powerful she had to give way at last.

-o0o-

Harry and Ron walked out of the hospital wing pensively towards Divination despite the huge relief they felt after talking to Hermione again. After seeing what she had gone through today, Harry thought he wasn't doing something enough to help make her recovery come quicker. There could be something at least he could do, he thought, to make her happy once more, the usual path to healing.

He pondered hard as he walked along with Ron (who was also walking silently like him); Hermione pleading to Madam Pomfrey to hear Cornelius Fudge's droning speech tonight was his strongest memory. If only he could think of something to help her get what she wanted…the most obvious idea for him was to spirit Hermione off to the Great Hall, but he knew very well that not only Madam Pomfrey will roar like a lion and hang them by their pinkies under the sun when she'll discover Hermione's empty bed, further activity on the part of Hermione was obviously detrimental to her health. With no more wild ideas to consider, Harry hoped Ron had something good in mind.

“You know I think Hermione really wanted to hear what Fudge would talk about tonight,” said Harry, “but, you know, I wish there is something we could do to make her happy for a while.”

Ron didn't answer at once, because he, too, was thinking of the very same thing. Harry thought he was at a loss like him, but soon he had a passing memory of some gadgets his twin brothers had been working on that could prove to be of real use.

“Harry, tell you what, let's look for Fred and George - they could have something that might solve our little problem.” Harry nodded excitedly upon Ron's words, and they hurriedly combed the grounds for any sign of Fred and George.

Finally, they spotted two identical heads of hair in a thick crowd of students at a long hallway and fought their way through it. Upon reaching them, Harry did the talking and he explained their own little problem and asked if they had anything to help them out of it. They got their answer in an instant. After happily rummaging inside their bag full of experiments, Fred fished out a pair of ears that looked made of rubber.

“Erghhh! Whose head did those come from?” said Ron, looking disgusted with the objects that looked like severed ears to him.

“You could've seen the blood and tissue on them before I washed them, bro,” said George in satisfaction of seeing Ron's face. “They're called Extended Ears, beta models.”

“Oh, good, what does it do?” Harry said, genuinely interested.

“What it does is it lets you hear every spoken word at a remote location from a distance,” explained George quietly. “It's simple, just stick this ear like a bug, and place the other ear on your, er, ear, and voila! Instant eavesdropping! Perfect for Unspeakables and Aurors. Range is a thousand yards even through the thickest of walls; price to be announced very soon.”

“You two seem to have a very good sense of timing,” said Fred next, looking around, “because we were about to get rid of everything you see in this bag minutes from now - Filch's got word of new “Illegal objects” that wasn't even on his current list of illegals. We don't want him getting his hands with our prototypes; we have everything in our heads anyway.”

“Oh, this is really great, guys!” said Harry very cheerfully. “They're perfect! Hermione will be happy with this - she won't have to miss Fudge's speech…”

“What, you mean you went out of your way to hear a real dreary speech?” said Fred, looking astounded, but in true Fred and George fashion they broke into a huge smile again.

“When do you need them back?” said Harry.

“No need, it's yours!” Fred said. “And don't start on me,” he said again after seeing Harry open his mouth to say something, “because this is absolutely nothing compared to learning the secret of the Pocket Portkey, and we still have to repay you for your huge favor.”

Harry grinned broadly, because he didn't know what to say.

“Don't you worry about it, we're serious, but we require you to fill in these survey forms after trying them out,” George said, giving him and Ron each a questionnaire about Extended Ears.

“Oh, great, more work to do!” moaned Ron, dropping his breath in disappointment.

Harry nudged his side with his elbow and Ron quickly said, “Oh, it's a great deal, guys! Thanks.”

The twins then walked off with extreme sense of fulfillment, happy they had helped Harry, Ron, and Hermione in a “very difficult” situation.

“They're so cool, aren't they?” said Harry, looking behind Fred and George warmly as they walked further away. Ron examined the Extended Ears very closely and wondered where his brothers could have gotten the money to develop these.

“Harry gives them a Portkey and they give us homework…” grumbled Ron under his breath.

-o0o-

The class bell rang at the hall and Harry and Ron rushed for Divination, now with something to look forward on to surprise Hermione later. Their lessons had advanced to the art of card reading, depending on how anyone would look at that as progress. Professor Trelawny, as usual, kept on interpreting death for Harry in his own stack of cards. Though she always sounded very credible because of the way she talked, Harry chose not to listen at all, having known Trelawney to predict his weekly deaths for more than two years that she had used up every word combination that they became very repetitious. Except, of course, his classmates - because of the recent murders, they now seemed to be paying attention to her and almost believed every prediction thought of, which worried him a bit.

After what seemed like hours again of anticipation for Harry and Ron, break time had arrived. They hurried back to the hospital wing and were glad to see Hermione had woken up again, looking refreshed. In addition, Fred and George's Extended Ears really made Hermione's day.

“Testing, testing,” said Ron's voice on the Ear piece Hermione held.

“It's working perfectly,” she said happily. “Thanks a lot guys, did you really do this for me? You both are so sweet.”

“Actually,” said Harry awkwardly, “Fred and George did, but without Ron here, we would have never thought they had something as great as this.”

Hermione kept on listening to Ron, who went inside another room in the wing and spoke on the other piece he had. Whatever Ron said through the Extended Ears made Hermione roll about on her bed with laughter. It was a real big help because, for Harry, seeing laughter come back to Hermione again was a joy to behold.

Harry believed the return of the horror that was Voldemort would be nothing as long as his special bond and friendship with Ron and Hermione would not be broken. He actually thought that this friendship had slipped away from him again (because of Hermione's accident which might have caused something so terrible that he was powerless to do anything about it), but he was again feeling very fortunate this wasn't the case. For Harry, the loss of Hermione would be too devastating - a disaster for him that was almost impossible to comprehend.

When he thought of the possibility, he felt tears drop out of his eyes and he wiped them off quickly before Hermione could notice.

-->

5. Mounting Problems

***Chapter 4: “Mounting Problems” ***

Dinner was now almost over at the Great Hall that night and Harry saw Fudge had indeed traveled to Hogwarts as expected. Harry and Ron had promised to Hermione back at the hospital wing to turn on the other end of the Extendable Ears in the Great Hall in order for her to hear Cornelius Fudge’s speech after dinner.

The Minister of Magic sat beside Dumbledore at the teachers’ table and they seemed to talk at each other in a businesslike manner from afar. Harry remembered that the last time he had seen Fudge and Dumbledore together in the exact state was in the hospital wing just after his brief but terrible encounter with Voldemort. They weren’t talking so friendly during that time. On the other hand, they both had been cordial when he, Ron, and Hermione was presented with an award earlier in the term when they destroyed the Oarling, but for tonight it was totally different because Harry had not seen them smile at each other the whole night. Fudge might have just felt obliged to come over to Hogwarts because of something important to him.

“Dumbledore and Fudge don’t look friendly at each other much,” said Ron, who was also observing them. “I wonder why?”

“I guess we’ll find out real soon,” said Harry darkly. “Everyone’s finishing up dessert.”

Sure enough, the moment they have anxiously awaited all afternoon came at last. Harry took out his piece of Fred and George’s Extended Ears from his pocket – the other half was back in the hospital wing where Hermione was definitely holding it up over her real ears at the very moment.

Dumbledore stood up on his chair and everybody stopped talking.

“Now that we have finished our wondrous feast for tonight,” he said, “I’m sure you are all anxious to hear what the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, will be saying.” (Fudge had suddenly stopped smiling and threw a look at Dumbledore)

“So I won’t keep you hanging on to suspense much longer – ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome Minister Fudge…” he extended a courteous hand to Fudge, giving him the floor. Fudge, however, still looked affronted about something, which the students would’ve mistaken him as just being grim, but not Harry. Notwithstanding, the whole school greeted the Minister of Magic with a big round of applause.

“Good evening, young witches and wizards of Hogwarts,” said Fudge, again switching to a festive smile. “My, oh, my, it’s been a while since I last stepped on the grounds of this very, very prestigious institution and it is always a pleasure to be here. I never tire of reminiscing my time here as a student like you sitting there in one of those stools, listening in to the Minister of Magic making his speech. Ah, yes, I would have never dreamed I’d be addressing the whole faculty and student body as the Minister of Magic, yes, and I’m quite sure one of you young lads and lasses will become one just like me in the future, in the same situation, and you will understand how it is to feel this grand, significant moment.”

There was scattered applause from the students and it died down fairly quickly. Ron hissed to Harry, “What I now understand is what Madam Pomfrey meant about his speeches.”

“I know you are all befuddled by my sudden visit here,” Fudge continued his speech, “and I offer you my sincerest apologies for not telling you sooner why I had to be here, but there’s something that I believe I need to do personally. It is crucial in order to maintain unity among ourselves, and the peace and order of the wizarding world in these seemingly difficult times.

“You’ll be soon going home for an enjoyable Christmas in a couple of days and I must ask you to listen closely and then make it a point tell your relatives – I urge you - friends, and anyone you know within the wizarding world what I will say tonight – because this is very, very important and you need to do your part to help the Ministry with its noble work. I have been very busy going around meeting authorities, the press, and flooing around to various capitals in the wizarding world to disseminate information about the current events including the recently reported unfortunate deaths of some wizards and witches this morning…”

“Get on to the point,” muttered Ron impatiently, and Harry nodded.

“…and it is now become very popular belief that the deaths have been caused by murderous Death Eaters in the service to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It has been reported that at the places of the untimely death of these people, the Dark Mark, which has not been seen for 15 years (except the one made by a misguided house elf last year at the Quidditch World Cup), has been spotted. I am quite aware that this information was released by no less by official messages from the Ministry of Magic to their next of kin. It is now believed that these letters have become the basis - a sign that He-Who-Must-Be-Named has returned.

“Nevertheless, I feel obligated to personally inform you, and this is why I am here, to tell you that the information fed to you was a lie.”

The whole of the Great Hall then reverberated with mixed talk mostly with expressions of relief, and others with added bewilderment. Harry and Ron looked at each other knowingly, because they both believed that it was Cornelius Fudge himself who was lying. Dumbledore’s face was expressionless as he sat calmly on his chair. Hagrid, McGonagall, and all faculty members on the other hand looked at Fudge darkly except Russelpunk, who was wiping his sweaty face, obviously relieved.

Fudge raised his hands to ask everyone in the Hall to return their attention to him. As the talk died down again, he went on with his address.

“Yes, I know it is confusing, to say the least, because the so-called ‘official letters’ were sent by Ramius Palkov, one of the disgruntled employees in the Ministry of Magic who have had wild fantasies that You-Know-Who is truly back, which is very deceiving as I can attest to you the wizard world is as peaceful and safe as it was after You-Know-Who disappeared forever, thanks to one of your classmates, Harry Potter, who is with us right now.”

Fudge clapped with a few students at Harry’s direction, and even though Harry heard him mention his name, he wasn’t at all delighted about it. In fact, it even made him much angrier with Fudge for using him in his lies.

“These disgruntled employees, including Palkov, have since been sacked, and I promise you, they will never again sow confusion and tell falsehoods under the flag of the Ministry. They have escaped and gone into hiding and they are now wanted by the Ministry of Magic. Furthermore, his accomplices have been identified as the suspects who conjured the Dark Mark to confuse the public, which is instantly punishable by our laws. They will also be investigated in connection to the recent murders. Tomorrow, in the Daily Prophet, their faces will appear to help track down their whereabouts and they will be slapped with appropriate charges. We need your cooperation with this matter and any information leading to their arrest will be rewarded handsomely.

“I know today’s events have brought untold stress to everybody here, and I apologize in behalf of the Ministry of Magic for the actions of our employees. I hope you will have a very wonderful vacation ahead knowing that there is nothing to be afraid of. Live on normally as if nothing has happened, and a happy Christmas to all of you.”

All of the students who were convinced of Fudge’s speech broke into wild applause and didn’t hide their relief by going into hugs and handshakes. Those, however, who were still confused at least and weren’t still certain about everything just didn’t make any show of emotion. Dumbledore, for one, just clapped his hands together slowly out of courtesy, but looked enraged. Harry felt the same way as he did; the Weasleys didn’t buy it at all, especially Ron and Ginny who had seen Voldemort for real.

Harry caught a glimpse of Zacharias Smith, who wore a face that was drawn with vindication, strutting past his house mates who opposed his views earlier in the day. Hannah Abbot looked darkly at Zach from behind and had to be restrained by Justin Fletchly because she looked determined to hurt him real bad. Next he saw Fudge go over to Dumbledore and they both walked together out of the Great Hall at the teacher’s access way, apparently towards the Headmaster’s office for a possible conference.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Ron. “I don’t believe this is happening! I can’t wait to hear what Hermione has to say about this…”

“Hermione…hear…” Harry thought, and looked at the Extended Ear he was holding.

Then it struck him. He bent over to Ron and hissed, “Ron, I just had an idea. You’re scheduled for detention with Dumbledore after this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Ron, listening attentively. “Why?”

“Suddenly I found it real interesting to know what they might be talking about in Dumbledore’s office tonight... You could plant this ear inside his office so that we could listen in to their conversation…”

“That one’s easy, but what if it’ll be discovered?” said Ron anxiously. “We can’t just budge in Dumbledore’s office to get it back any day.”

“You still have until tomorrow’s detention to retrieve it, right?” Harry said impatiently. “Just hide it behind a stack of books or something. This is our perfect chance.”

“Oh, that’s right. I agree it’s getting really intriguing,” said Ron mischievously. “We’re now acting like Aurors, cool! Give the ear to me, I’m reporting in…gimme…”

“Okay,” said Harry, handing Ron the ear. Ron pocketed it at once looking excited. “I’m sure Dumbledore will excuse you for tonight because of the meeting, and we’ll meet back at the hospital wing and we’ll eavesdrop from there. Be careful, will you?”

-o0o-

Harry and Ron had separated at the exit to the Great Hall; Harry went straight to the hospital wing to visit Hermione where they found time to discuss Fudge’s speech while they waited for Ron.

“I’m appalled with Fudge’s denial about the murders being Voldemort’s handiwork, I could’ve missed the rest of the speech,” said Hermione, looking incensed. “I almost dropped the ear to the floor with rage!”

“I’m sure it’s caused more confusion than ever,” said Harry as he sat down on a chair beside Hermione’s bed. “Wait till the Daily Prophet tomorrow. One thing I expect, if Voldemort really owns up to the killings and does go into a complete rampage, Fudge will surely have a hard time regaining his credibility, if ever! Can’t say I’d worry about it; everybody won’t give a damn about him anymore, then.”

“Serves him right,” Hermione huffed. “I wonder how Fudge looked like when Dumbledore said he was the current Minister of Magic, I bet he was furious!” she said next with glee.

“Now, that’s the understatement of the century,” said Harry after getting Hermione’s idea, and they both laughed. Just then Ron came in the hospital wing, looking satisfied.

Ron had come back from Dumbledore’s office.

“You were right, Harry,” he said proudly, “Dumbledore and Fudge are in there for a meeting – McGonagall’s there, too, and Fudge’s, er…small party. Dumbledore told me I was excused for detention tonight, so I quickly planted the bug behind a shelf on the way out. I’m sure the thing was in a good spot.”

“Way to be, Ron,” said Harry happily, but he noticed Ron still looked sweaty and uneasy. He turned to Hermione, who on her bed was holding Extended Ear near her right ear, listening in. Harry and Ron went over to her to have their own ears closer to the gadget, too, but the surprised look on Hermione’s face halted them midway.

“Hermione, what is it?” said Harry interestedly.

Hermione looked back at him and said, “You won’t believe this, but Dumbledore and Fudge are yelling, Harry!”

Harry and Ron moved closer eagerly to Hermione to listen in to the ensuing conversation in Dumbledore’s office using Fred and George’s Extended Ears. The reception was crystal clear; they could even hear everybody’s breathing, though that didn’t distort the sound at all in any way.

“…what I don’t like very much, Minister,” said Dumbledore forcefully, “is how you’ve caused my students to think that those cold-blooded murders were the work of others for in fact real Death Eaters had committed them at the first place?”

“They were killed by copycats, Dumbledore,” yelled Fudge. “Imitators!!! There aren’t Death Eaters left walking around anymore – the Ministry of Magic had rounded them all up 15 years ago - with the exception of Sirius Black who’s still at large, that is, but we’re hot on his trail, I promise you.”

“These are the work of Death Eaters under the orders of Lord Voldemort!” Dumbledore retorted. “Telling the aggrieved families of these victims otherwise will be an insult to the recently deceased. Please, Minister, please do not keep on denying the fact that he has returned and will again cause untold discord and mayhem among us very, very soon. It won’t help us in any way. The students will be going home for Christmas and will tell their friends and relatives what you have fed them. This will create undue complacency, which is a very dangerous thing considering that everyone who does not know the truth about Lord Voldemort will not be so vigilant. You know how Lord Voldemort succeeded in acquiring wizards and witches who were completely unaware they were being used for his terrible plans…”

“Yes, I am quite aware of their old modus operandi, Albus,” interrupted Fudge, with impatience in his voice, “But I don’t want to create paranoia within the wizarding world with something that’s just made out of someone’s wild imagination. The people will never buy that at all; I will lose my job if I spread mere theories without hard facts. It seems the only basis you have are the testimonies of four students who have claimed to have been in a so-called fortress of You-Know-Who, much like the outrageous story of Harry Potter last year. I do not find that very convincing at all, and I’m sure it’s the same for the public. The recent deaths with the Dark Mark hovering over the scene of the murders do not specifically confirm You-Know-Who is back!”

“And three of those students you refer to are secret recipients of the Order of the Unicorn award,” said Dumbledore, “which may I remind you that you have personally bestowed them this term. And in case you preferred to forget, that also one of them is an honorary member for Underage Wizards of the Ministry of Magic. I do hope those recognitions would hold weight to their testimony…”

“No difference at all,” interrupted Fudge again. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in disappointment, especially Hermione who was the honorary member mentioned. Fudge did not appear to believe anything that would contradict him and they felt that whatever Dumbledore told him tonight he would have none of everything. Still, they hoped the Minister could still listen to reason.

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, it does. I have seen even more evidence to confirm Lord Voldemort is indeed alive besides my students’ solid testimony, Cornelius. Xanthius truly exists and will be a force in itself to reckon with. Take a look at the fresh murders, for instance. Death Eaters don’t murder their victims and then conjure the Dark Mark without the explicit knowledge of Lord Voldemort…”

Harry and Hermione heard a clanking noise, and they bet it was Fudge losing balance upon hearing Voldemort’s name too much too many. At least they found that pretty amusing in a potentially explosive exchange, if one didn’t consider their meeting volatile already.

“He disappeared in Godric’s Hollow 15 years ago,” said Fudge after regaining his voice, “Never to return! If there are indeed Death Eaters on the loose, and I bet my gavel there aren’t any, they would probably feel free to conjure the Dark Mark anytime they want because they don’t have to answer to You-Know-Who, because he does-not-exist anymore!”

“There are still Death Eaters walking dangerously among us, Cornelius,” confuted Dumbledore, this time calmly, “Even the Ministry of Magic has been infiltrated already by Death Eaters, the extent of which is unknown…”

“That’s total lunacy and absolutely far from the truth! I’d like to know how you are sure of that, Albus. Are you telling me you know more about my work and the people under me?”

“No, I perhaps I do not, Cornelius, but I do have my own sources, and they are to be believed. Just last week, if you choose to remember, Hogwarts was almost taken over by Death Eaters, and that is not supposed to happen. I’m quite certain for a very open ministry like you have back there in London it isn’t much of a challenge.”

Fudge roared in anger. “How dare you, you bloody old…”

“Mugwump, Cornelius,” cut Dumbledore in evenly, but menacingly. “I’d strongly suggest you finish your sentence with that term.”

There was a moment of silence before Fudge started talking again, suggesting he might have been stunned with Dumbledore’s words; Harry and Ron looked at each other again with grim satisfaction, hoping that reminded Fudge he was no match with Dumbledore if he opted to threaten him with magic.

“Albus, I am fully in control with my staff and my Ministry and I promise you it is very spotless and well managed!” Fudge said next, his voice slightly quivering. “The so-called Death Eaters you’re saying were Ministry wizards with police powers mistaken as such, and I personally sent them here to provide security to the school due to your and the Deputy Headmistress’ incapacity. You don’t seem to appreciate the good job they had done. I’m quite sure once those fine men would have heard your remarks they will not feel very happy at all being called Death Eaters. I, for one, am insulted by your insinuations, Albus.”

“I am unwavering in my knowledge that the Ministry Wizards you sent the week before last were mostly Death Eaters, Cornelius. On the other hand, about those Ministry Aurors you fired; you must recall them…”

“Recall them?” exclaimed Fudge. “Galloping gargoyles! After they have been marked as the culprits and now wanted by the law?!? You’re thinking like a lunatic, now you are, Albus! Demented! It’s out of the question! The people now want their heads! I’ll look entirely ridiculous in front of the public of being indecisive!!!”

“All I can say is that you been utterly misguided,” said Dumbledore, as if Fudge hadn’t said any word of insult. “It’s still not too late to do something to rectify that slight oversight. They have been one of the most ardent of all Aurors I have ever known, ever since the time of two of your predecessors. I am fully aware that they have identified many Death Eaters who have infiltrated the Ministry a long time ago and doing so they have risked their lives and of their families to unmask the real traitors from within your organization. Is that how you repay them – framing them of the crime made by the very people who they have vowed to protect us from? Please don’t tell me who not to call your people Death Eaters and Aurors, Cornelius, for I know them more than you do. Isn’t that true, Horace?”

Harry didn’t know who Horace was, but he surmised Dumbledore had talked to one of Fudge’s party in his office. Only that he had heard that name before somewhere recently. He wasn’t sure how this Horace reacted to Dumbledore’s query.

Fudge spoke again. “What is that supposed to mean, Albus? Are you insinuating Horace Whipple is a secret Death Eater, too? Ha, then I know you have really lost your marbles and making things up, old man, because Horace has been one of my most trusted since I stepped in as Minister of Magic. His record speaks for himself and it’s spotless.”

There was another moment of silence; it wasn’t clear to Harry, Ron, and Hermione why Dumbledore decided not to pursue it.

Dumbledore then breathed for a moment and said “Then may I at least know, Cornelius, who had tipped you about the fired Ministry wizards as being the offenders of the recent murders?”

“It is for me and my staff to know and for you to find out, Albus,” Fudge said tersely.

“Lucius Malfoy, perhaps?” suggested Dumbledore.

“Preposterous!” shouted Fudge. “Lucius Malfoy is one of, if not the most credible and the most honorable man the Ministry has ever known! His contributions to the Ministry are innumerable and priceless. He is not a Death Eater and what he says has weight to everything and…”

“Equal to the weight in gold he has given to date I presume…”

There was another roaring sound, apparently made by the now incensed Minister of Magic. “You’re getting out of hand, Albus!”

“Oh, you misunderstand me, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore serenely. “I certainly did not suggest Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, did I? I was just hoping you’d say the information he gave was one excellent addition to his greatest contributions in the history of your term, aside from all the monetary donations he had unselfishly provided you. Just imagine, he single-handedly unmasked all the Ministry Wizards who murdered those people and conjured the Dark Mark to confuse the wizard world? That, to me, is very brave and dignified of him and nothing to be angry about, of course.”

There was another pause in the conversation, this time the longest of all. It seemed that Fudge had thought deeply on Dumbledore’s words, which appeared to him as ambiguous.

“Yes, he was,” he admitted shortly, opting for the most obvious message. “He gave very credible testimony and that was basis the ministry wizards were identified as the guilty ones – one of his most noble contributions, indeed. That is no secret, after all.”

“Thank you, Cornelius. I regret this meeting of ours has brought more strain to our relations, which I have no wish to complicate further. If you still have some concerns that you want us to talk about tonight, you may do so before we part.”

Fudge cleared his throat. “Yes, Albus, I still have a few. Now that you recognize there is really a strain in our professional relationship, as Minister of Magic I require you not to contradict any more of the statements I make in public, even among the students of this school.”

“Noted. I find it no problem with that with regards to the public in general. However, I would like to remind you that as Headmaster it is my responsibility and prerogative to teach the students what I deem fit, Cornelius. If in any case that you, the undisputable Minister of Magic that is, is proven to have meddled with my operational autonomy in Hogwarts, it will be grounds for your impeachment, as provided by law.”

“Way to go, Dumbledore!” cheered Ron at the hospital wing.

“We shall see about that, Albus,” said Fudge breathlessly. “I will be meeting with the school Governors to discuss the running of this school. I remember quite well I have mentioned that in our other meeting last year, but you leave me no choice but to push sweeping measures in order to bring Hogwarts into line with the Ministry’s full mandate. I’m sure we will meet again soon, hopefully with a decision.” Fudge walked off and stopped midway enroute the door.

“Next term I shall also dispatch wizards coming from the Ministry to Hogwarts and open an enforcement division to police the school,” he said. “I know what you have in mind, Albus. Rumor mongering shall be stopped, and I will not stand for any attempts from anyone, that includes you, to form any radical opposition groups out of the students and their relatives. Violators will be dealt with swiftly. I will soon send you some additional names for your acceptance, as it is my prerogative as Minister of Magic to send as many as I want for purposes you have no power to object to.”

“Very well, as long as they keep the peace and they don’t physically and/or verbally abuse my students, Cornelius,” replied Dumbledore. “You know the other rules by law.”

“Goodbye, Albus, and Minerva.”

“My pleasure, Cornelius,” replied Dumbledore curtly.

“Minister.,” said McGonagall. It was the first time she talked during the entire meeting.

“Whipple, Weaselby!” called Fudge, and there was sound of more feet walking and the door closing.

“Come, Minerva,” said Dumbledore warmly to McGonagall, “I’ve had enough formalities for today; there is a very sumptuous scone I’d like you to sample with me at the kitchen…” Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard them walk out to the door shortly.

But before the door was shut again, they heard Dumbledore say, “Good night!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly exchanged puzzled looks. They didn’t know who Dumbledore talked to, but Harry supposed it was meant for Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet phoenix. However, that was the least of their current concerns.

They did learn something out of the conversation tonight, thanks to Fred and George’s excellent (and weird-looking) invention – that during the next term not only they will have to deal with the threat of Voldemort from the outside, but also they would deal with the unknown brought about by the arrival of the “ministry wizards” at the inside. The bad thing about it was, like they had thought earlier, that Fudge’s mind was so closed to any suggestions that he had Death Eaters among the ranks of the Ministry. They bet he won’t lift a helping finger if the time comes the students and staff of Hogwarts will be threatened by them for real.

Hermione took off the Extended Ear from her ear and looked at Harry and Ron. The two boys wore worried expressions on their faces. “I can’t believe Fudge’s so determined to distort the facts,” she said.

“That’s not what’s worrying me,” said Harry, frowning. “It’s Fudge’s word about sending in wizards to Hogwarts from the Ministry next term after how it’s been infiltrated by Death Eaters.” He turned to Hermione, who was thinking deeply about something. He remembered about Hermione’s scuffle with Death Eaters at Diagon Alley when she bravely defended the only object that single-handedly cleared Ron for a crime. “You’ve been in the Ministry once, haven’t you, Hermione? What was it like then?”

“Yes, I was, in one of their detachment offices,” she replied, “and some wizards conned me by pretending to be Aurors - they turned out to be Death Eaters! If I’ll ever go in there again, I won’t be sure who’s working for whom anymore. It’s just like what Sirius told us in Hogsmeade last year, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you thing Olga is doing right now?” wondered Ron, recalling the Auror that they had made friends with during this term. “I remember she was bent on unmasking Death Eaters the last time we saw her.”

Hermione’s eyes went round with anxiety after realizing that. “D’you think she was also sacked?” she said coarsely, “That would be bad, at least for us and Dumbledore, isn’t it, Harry?”

“I hope not! We’ll try to ask her soon, but I expect some kind of a shuffle within the Ministry coming. Fudge is really too favorable with Lucius Malfoy, isn’t he? See how he believes everything that prat’s telling him? I’m sure Lucius Malfoy ordered Death Eaters to kill the victims and then framing the Aurors to the crime. I wonder what else is going on in his mind right now…”

Hermione murmured while she brainstormed. “He’s in a vindictive mood, I think, because of his recent trial. I bet it’s payback to the Aurors who involved him to Jack Chadron’s recent escapades – but he truly was involved and we can’t really prove it. I’m willing to bet Fudge’s plan to open an office here in Hogwarts was his sick idea, too!”

“And probably naming all the people who’d be sent here,” thought Harry loudly, “that’s a real big possibility. What for, do you think?”

“To infiltrate Hogwarts again after their last attempt, I guess,” sighed Hermione, leaning back her head on her pillow and closing her eyes. She had felt another wave of headaches, but that didn’t stop her from thinking further theories. “That’s the most obvious thing. Could be part of a grand scheme for Voldemort, or just to make our lives more difficult – we won’t know until the next few days or weeks if we discover something.”

She then snapped her eyes open, as if a bright bulb flashed above her head.

“Remember what I said about Voldemort’s secret servants? Fudge’s reason for setting up an office here is curiously the same – that’s to stop anyone from ever forming a group! That could be one of Lucius’ motives, too. But, get this: I think Fudge’s motive is personal, at least. He might think Dumbledore is out to form an army of his own against him to take over his job.”

Harry rolled his eyes and whistled. “Then if that’s true it’s him who’s paranoid, and he’s allowing himself to be used by others. If Lucius is behind that, seems to me what he really wants is to put a plug on any resistance against Voldemort – you’re right. Hogwarts is such a good place to start!”

Hermione felt glad Harry got the idea, showing that he has grown aware of the dangers posed during this time. Perhaps this would convince him not to be very reckless about his decisions from now on. “That’s right, Fudge can’t see that because he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s too busy worrying about himself.”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to object to have some outsiders here, though,” said Ron angrily, squeezing Hermione’s pillow real hard, which caused her to pull it back under her head with extreme annoyance. “It’s just like he’s allowing Death Eaters to walk in to gain a foothold!”

“I admit that’s strange, but that about sums up the plan in just a few words,” said Harry, “but I want to believe Dumbledore might have a few tricks behind his beard.”

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. They all hoped Dumbledore was not getting short sighted to give the enemy the chance to slip right past and attack them from behind. Since they refused to believe that at all, perhaps it wasn’t true. After all, he was their real leader.

“Harry, we got to be careful,” said Hermione very seriously. She sat upright on her bed to really take a good look on Harry. “We got to watch out especially next term. Having these wizards who’re likely Death Eaters will pose a lot of problems for everything we do. They really might have a more sinister reason why they’ll be coming, but I still can’t make it out.” She pounded her already aching head back softly against her pillow, looking frustrated of not being able to come up with at least something close.

“It’d be arrogant to think they’re here and do all this trouble just to kill me,” Harry said with a quick tight smile, seeing her think hard. He then sat down on Hermione’s bed side, facing her, and she looked back at him in a way as if she had just realized something terrible.

“But that can’t be ruled out, Harry,” said Hermione, looking scared now. She grabbed Harry’s hand gently. “We’ll consider that possibility, though Voldemort might want to commit that himself with his own hands, but let’s not be caught off guard. There’s something else and we need to know what. One way we could protect ourselves is to stay one step ahead of them.”

Harry was startled a bit when he felt Hermione’s squeeze his hand even more tightly. Her palm became slightly sweaty. She wasn’t talking about the three of them, he suddenly thought. She was talking about him – the look on her face indicated her fear for losing Harry again. He looked straight on her brown eyes, which was now staring back his own determinedly. There was a tinge of sadness on the look of Hermione’s eyes that he could not explain and it made him feel equally sad.

“Harry…Hermione?” Ron interrupted slowly. “You two look real funny when you’re staring at each other for a minute.”

They broke their eye contact. Harry fumbled with his glasses as it fell downward because of his sweaty nose; Hermione, however, did not take her gaze off Harry and her eyes determinedly followed Harry’s every head movement as she tried to regain their eye contact again.

Trying to recover himself, Harry said, “We’ll be okay, Hermione. As long as we’re…one for all and all for one, yes, that’s it.” Hermione smiled slightly as she nodded and looked apprehensive again.

“Sounds like the mantra of the three Mouse Eaters,” said Ron, “but that’s good enough!”

“Musketeers, Ron!” corrected Harry and Hermione at the same time.

Then they all shook hands together. Harry and Ron had exceeded visiting hours for fifteen minutes and Madam Pomfrey shooed them both out, leaving Hermione alone in the hospital wing again for the night.

-o0o-

Harry woke pretty early the next day feeling less refreshed. The day before was mostly filled with anxiety (and the stress that came with it) he was practically drained of strength just as he slumped on his bed to sleep. He opened his eyes the widest he could muster, feeling eight hours wasn’t enough, but he had to be up for the last day of classes this term.

As he reached for his glasses, he heard some grunting at the end of his four-poster. He looked around to see who it was. It was Ron, still in his pajamas, and he was taking out his suitcase from under his bed.

When Ron noticed Harry was awake he said, “Oh, good morning, Harry, I’m just starting to sort out my things – I’m so excited – I haven’t gone home for Christmas at all for four years!”

Harry then was reminded he hadn’t talked to Dumbledore yet to ask permission to go home for the holidays. He breathed deeply and plopped back on his bed, hid his head under the pillow, and pounded the mattress with his right fist.

”Harry, what’s wrong?” said Ron, bewildered. “Did I say something?”

“Irmverd hdstiltak tehdumdore,” said Harry’s voice from under the pillow.

“What?” Ron said. He shook his head, walked to Harry’s bedside, and yanked away the pillow covering his head.

“I remembered I had to talk to Dumbledore today…” Harry said miserably.

“Oh, but there’s no problem, is there?”

“I hope not, Ron, but I don’t why I’m so anxious about it…”

Ron laughed. “Like I said, mate, you’re just making your own problems! Get it on with and talk to him! He’ll let you go! Let’s dress up and eat breakfast…” He pounded Harry with his pillow.

As Ron gathered up his clothes and started off toward the bathroom, whistling out of tune. Harry turned his gaze to the white sky outside the window. He noticed it snowed heavier than usual last night and he wondered if he’ll ever see the same window every morning for the next three weeks in case Dumbledore forbid him to leave Hogwarts.

The thought was again like torture, and he could not understand it. Four years ago he had told himself that nothing would make him leave Hogwarts for years if he were given the freedom to choose - Christmas, Summer, or whatever. He had always believed there is no place like Hogwarts, but Hogwarts without his friends was another matter.

What’s life without my best friends?, he rephrased in his mind. Next it hit him, though softly: he was scared of not enjoying Ron or Hermione’s company this Christmas. He’d be alone, talking to none but himself (except with the ghosts but that wasn’t very exciting). No, no, no, Harry!, then said his mind’s voice. There’s more to that done just their company. You’re too afraid to lose them forever. Harry kept staring at the window, not aware he was nodding to himself.

- Yes, yes.

He deduced his fear may have grown on him subconsciously in Number Four Privet Drive each summer when he was virtually imprisoned for months at a time in Dudley’s second bedroom. He was too busy lamenting with himself each time he withered with boredom in the bedroom back at Little Whinging, but in truth he had been longing to be reunited with Ron and Hermione, and rightly so of meeting them after his yearly ordeal, everything seemed to fall back into place at once.

Then Dumbledore’s voice replayed in his mind. Harry remembered what he told him early this term about his friendship with Ron and Hermione. “Every time I see you and Hermione together, I am always convinced that I have never seen such an aura much more brilliant than you possess around yourselves than any other group of people I know in my whole life. Neither with your parents nor Lord Voldemort and all of his minions put together…”

(Harry still missed the gap between his name and Hermione, unfortunately.)

Harry managed to smile to himself as he kept on staring still. He laughed softly as he thought that if he had to face a new boggart, he knew what it’d turn into.

But there were other things that kept crossing his mind. Most prominent was a pair of nice big brown eyes – real caring eyes, like the ones he had stared on last night. He loved the look of them; it made him feel whole. He then closed his eyes lovingly. His thoughts expanded to a vivid face that he seemed to love looking at more each day…and what’ll it be like running my fingers through those nice long brown hair – would it feel nice to the touch…

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He felt suddenly scared. This was not supposed to be. His mind had drifted to some unknown territory, not until now had he explored it. Why am I thinking like that?, he told himself angrily. He thought it just wasn’t right thinking of Hermione like that!

Why, was that Hermione I’ve been thinking of? It only looked like her…

- It’s nothing, kiddo, you had just woken up and you still felt sleepy, replied his own voice in his head.

Yes, yes.

- Your friendship with them is more important than a silly little romantic fantasy, right?

Right.

- But didn’t it feel breathtaking embracing her so closely down at the hall yesterday?

Er…

- Kidding! Christmas?

“Dumbledore!” he groaned, when his most immediate concerns had crossed his mind. Harry smashed his head several times on his battered pillow – he had to go through meeting him today, otherwise he wouldn’t be with Ron and Hermione this Christmas. He had to know.

He became furious with himself for being so negative about it but he could not help it. He realized he had to see him whether he liked it or not, and he hoped the answer would come very quickly. He closed his eyes tightly and said to himself under his breath, “Get it on with, Harry, you cynical bastard!”

He dressed up unenthusiastically. Before he would go to the Great Hall for breakfast, he decided he needed to drop Hermione a visit at the hospital wing to see how she was doing. However, when he got there, Hermione’s bed was empty.

“She’s been released this morning, Harry,” said Madam Pomfrey after seeing Harry’s surprised face at the doorway.

“Oh, so that means she’s now really okay, isn’t she?” said Harry expectantly.

“She’s still not fully out of the dark, I’m afraid.” Madam Pomfrey walked over to Harry, whose face dropped.

“Nothing to fret about, Harry; she’s virtually healed, I can tell you that now without any doubt. She’s very lucky to be recovering quite rapidly, though she needs to drink some potion I prescribed for her everyday for the next couple months and it will be like nothing had happened.”

“Why? What’ll it be like for her for the next couple of months?”

“She will suffer some slight confusion sometimes, just minor – the potion will do the work. It’ll wash off the effects of the magic still lingering in her brain.” Upon seeing Harry’s eyes going round, she said, “Don’t worry, it’s just natural, she won’t go over the other end, I guarantee you that.”

“Okay…I suppose. But Madam Pomfrey, what do you really mean about ‘slight confusion’”?

“In rare occasions she won’t be able to recall some things during the last hour. It’s not constant – it would just come so suddenly. I didn’t dare tell her it might affect her studies when that happens because she might have freaked out. So be warned, don’t be mad at her for missing a date.”

Harry forced a laugh, but he blushed profusely. He thanked Madam Pomfrey for taking care of Hermione and walked back towards the Great Hall, where he met Professor Russelpunk just about to enter the big oak doors.

“I’m sorry for what happened in class, yesterday, Mr. Potter,” said Russelpunk in a manner opposite to his usual flair. He was now walking normally; Madam Pomfrey had clearly mended his broken shin. “Is Miss Granger all right now?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine, Professor, thanks.” Harry felt happy with Russelpunk for being thoughtful and very modest as to say sorry for something he had not clearly done. “But, sir, it was not your fault. Hermione’s wand just isn’t working right, possibly.”

“Well, that’s…true, I guess” he said with uncertainty in his voice. “Miss Granger really rescued me from looking like a fool yesterday – I just learned Professor Snape had wanted my job for many years now – thus, the lesson plan he gave me.”

Harry failed to control himself and laughed. He could not help but think of Snape sneering as he was writing the lesson plan in his office for Russelpunk. Russelpunk, however, knew what he was thinking about and laughed along with Harry.

“Sneaky, isn’t he, Snape?” sniggered Russelpunk. “Harry, I hope you won’t say anything about this to anyone, but I’m not really good in thinking of what to teach next. Perhaps if it would not be so tactless after what happened to Miss Granger, I would like to ask her - and you if it’s okay - to assist me in planning my lessons for the next term?”

Harry looked at Russelpunk with mounting respect. Teachers wouldn’t dare ask from their students to help them think of what lessons to teach – it would be a sign of great weakness and incompetence on their part. And to think before Russelpunk would ask the person first he looked for help, he had asked Harry first what his opinion was before he’d done so. Instead of seeing Russelpunk as lacking of ability, Harry felt he really deserved all the help he could get to become successful with his teaching job. What the other students saw with Russelpunk was a lumbering bloke just trying to fit in with them - Harry saw sincerity and humility in him.

“I’d be delighted, sir, and I think Hermione will be, too,” said Harry. “But please don’t take that as a yes from her now yet, of course.”

Russelpunk beamed.

“Thanks, Harry,” he said, “I’ll ask her later. Have a nice breakfast.” They both walked together inside the Great Hall. Harry stopped at his usual place where Ron and Hermione were already eating their breakfast together.

“Oh, that’s so nice of him to ask help from his students,” Hermione said after Harry told her about Russelpunk. Harry felt another rush of joy seeing her gradually going back to normal, though she seemed slightly frail.

Another emotion, however, came over to him: shame. He could not help feel guilty of thinking about running his fingers through her hair. They’ve been real good friends for years and thinking of such things might affect that negatively in the long run. He liked his relationship the way it was now…maybe. He thought if he worried about other things he’ll probably just forget about it eventually.

“And it’s a curious coincidence last night in the hospital wing,” Hermione added, “I decided to have a little fun thinking up suggestions of future lessons for Russelpunk.”

“You call that fun?” scowled Ron, as he munched his bacon loudly. “I feel lucky he hadn’t mentioned my name.”

Harry’s chance to worry about other things other than his outlandish feelings with Hermione came when he saw Dumbledore was now eating his breakfast at the Headmaster’s chair. At first he had already decided to approach Dumbledore and ask his permission to go to the Burrow with Ron for the holidays, but as he lifted himself off slightly from his chair, he became suddenly indecisive and sat back down.

Hermione had noticed Harry was fighting with himself.

“There he is, Harry, it’s your chance to ask him now…it’s perfectly okay. Go on.”

Harry nodded nervously at Hermione but hesitated. He thought Dumbledore was enjoying his breakfast that asking him abruptly might cause him to deny Harry what he wanted. He then decided it was not the perfect time.

“It’s not the right time,” he said airily to Hermione. “I’ll do it later.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing…I still have all day…”

Harry’s next chance with Dumbledore came in after lunch when he saw the Headmaster walking back to his office in the corridors. Harry went forward and back on the same spot he’d been standing on, trying to decide to go for it or not. He could not understand why he was so afraid to ask him, but perhaps it was the fear of not getting what he wanted, he thought.

Recognizing that, he breathed deeply, got hold of himself, and walked towards Dumbledore for real, determined to get this over with and now. He had gone within at least a few yards of him when Professor Snape stopped to talk with the Headmaster. Harry thought asking Dumbledore then would prove to be unfavorable to him because Snape might mischievously influence his decision, and he’ll be told to stay. Harry rounded up the opposite corner away from their sight, leaned back angrily on a wall, and scratched his head in disgust.

Don’t worry, Harry, you still have half the day to do it, he told himself.

He, however, had the afternoon full of classes and did something terribly wrong in Potions he was forced by Snape to scrub his table of spilled goo well after dismissal. The whole chore cost him the whole free time running up to dinner. Hermione was furious with Harry. She still could not believe it was already after dinner and he hadn’t talked to him at all.

“What’s the matter, Harry? There he is!” she prodded impatiently while they walked together in the middle of the hall leading to the Gryffindor Tower. “Get!”

“I’m not sure, Hermione, I-I smell like goo…” Harry replied quickly as he felt a rush of panic. “I’ll ask him after cleaning up…”

After doing a very swift bath, Harry really believed the time was just right to talk to Dumbledore – he felt refreshed, calmer than ever, believing the hour just after dinner usually took out the day’s stress out of people. He walked confidently along the corridors by himself leading to Dumbledore’s office and…

“There you are,” said Angelina Johnson scathingly from behind Harry.

Harry stopped abruptly and winced, suddenly remembering it was Friday night, and turned around slowly to face her. He completely forgot Angelina had scheduled Quidditch practice tonight for the whole team, and she looked like she’d absolutely refuse to take “no” for an answer. The rest of the entire team stood a few steps behind Angelina, their faces looking angry, but not to Harry, but to her. Fred and the new Chaser Thomas Milton had to restrain George, who looked deranged, from knocking Angelina out from behind with his Beater. Harry actually prayed George could slip off their grasp, but it didn’t come.

Angelina was completely unaware of the struggle behind her. “What is it with you, Harry? You’re not even in your Quidditch uniform! Where’s your Firebolt?”

“Angelina, I’m really sorry, but I got to ask for an hour off practice today – I really need to talk to Dumbledore,” pleaded Harry.

“Oh, that’s a new one! I don’t want to hear any more alibis from you, you hear?” she said, and dragged Harry off all the way to the Quidditch stadium by the ears despite the danger of ripping them off for real because of the freezing weather.

-o0o-

Harry had for several times been tempted to flee during practice when Angelina wasn’t looking, (he did so at least thrice) but the school brooms were no match for Angelina’s Cleansweep Eight. She always overtook him and threw him back inside the pitch each time. Worse, because he wasn’t wearing his Quidditch garb (which had insulating magic in them) the temperature had dropped so low that he felt extremely stiff.

Looking for the Snitch that had probably hidden somewhere to keep itself warm was next to impossible. Angelina was bent on not dismissing the whole team for the night if Harry didn’t find it at all. Only Fred and George had thought of a desperate idea near midnight by bewitching a tiny snowball to make it look like a frozen Snitch and gave it to Harry. Angelina was probably too sleepy then to notice that it was fake when Harry presented it to her (the whole team looked on nervously as he did). It was already good for her and that was only when she called it a “day”, much to everyone’s relief.

Harry knew what returning to Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night meant for him – his vacation was still left hanging. He thought perhaps he could still stumble upon Dumbledore at the Great Hall for breakfast the next day before the 9:00 departure of the Hogwarts Express, but he knew that was expecting too much.

Ron and Hermione were still awake playing chess waiting for Harry when the Quidditch team came back to the Gryffindor tower. They were startled to see what looked like seven frosty snowmen invading the Common Room.

“What the…” breathed Ron, aghast at the sight in front of him.

“H-Harry, you look cold!” cried Hermione. She rushed to him, and took out her wand. She pointed it to Harry and muttered, “Tempera!” Hot air gushed out the end of her wand and thawed the ice off Harry, drying him on the spot at the same time. Taking Hermione’s idea, everyone in the team did the same spells and looked warmer soon after.

“T-Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said gratefully. “But for a moment I was afraid your wand might’ve done a different effect…”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand seeing you in that state I couldn’t get hold of myself – but it’s working perfectly fine lately.”

Harry slumped down on the couch, feeling drained. He looked up at Hermione with tired eyes. “McGonagall still thinks you need to have that looked at, though.”

“I think she’s right. It does get annoying to keep thinking it’s not a hundred percent reliable…”

“And that means not getting potential full marks in schoolwork, too…”

That effectively hit Hermione like a gong.

“I think I got to ask Mum and Dad for a new wand…” Hermione sat beside Harry shortly, fixed his hair with her hand soothingly, and said, “Harry, I’ve given it a lot of thought - in spite of the danger, you know, I’ve really given it a lot of thought and I guess it’s much better if you have fun as much as you can than sulking about in Hogwarts, well, as long as you’re perfectly secure. So, what’d Dumbledore say? Did he say yes to you already?”

Instead of feeling very happy about Hermione’s thoughtfulness, Harry felt extreme disappointment coursing through him again for his failure to meet Dumbledore after having so many chances today. There was no point in making them feel sorry for him before bed by telling he probably won’t be able to get out this Christmas, he pretended not to hear Hermione’s question.

“I’m sooo tired. I’m going to bed - see you tomorrow…” he yawned, dragging his whole weight up to the spiral stairs as Ron followed his lead. He hoped he didn’t act impolite with Hermione, who was left sitting alone on the couch in the middle of the Common Room watching him sadly as he went.

“Good night, my dear Harry…” she said under her breath.

-o0o-

Next Chapter: “Kill the Mudblood!”

I will be back as soon as I can! Thanks!

6. Kill the Mudblood

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page

A/N: This is the unedited version of the Fifth Chapter – I think it’s okay already. Passing by a town that looked like it had an internet café around, I looked for a chance to slip off from sight of my colleagues to release this (at least) to lessen the wait of the readers. I will know by tomorrow if my working trip will be extended for a few days and if so, there won’t probably be updates until the 12th of August. I’m asking for your patience – thanks!

So I hope this chapter is already okay and without mistakes! Please kindly leave a review! Or just alert me of mistakes if there are any… thanks!

** Chapter 5 ** “Kill the Mudblood!”

Harry couldn’t believe it was already morning soon after he shut his eyes for sleep. He sensed hectic activity all around him and he lifted his head to look around. Ron and the rest of his room mates were already dressed and were rushing to pack up their things before breakfast.

“What’s up with you, Harry?” said Ron. He was trying to close his chest full of unfolded clothes and junk with his full weight. “Get up and pack or else you’ll miss the train!”

Even though Harry had almost given up on the prospect of ever spending Christmas out of Hogwarts, he did so with the thought he might still be able to see Dumbledore at breakfast. He was resigned to the fact that whatever Dumbledore might say today, it would heavily lean towards the negative and he would have to endure three weeks without Ron and Hermione.

He did pack up and dress up anyway. He finished fairly quickly – he had only quite a few possessions to begin with. He stuffed Hedwig in her cage (much to her annoyance) and looked back on his bed to see if he left something (“What’s the use – I could still be here today…”) and dragged his luggage unenthusiastically toward the Great Hall for Breakfast.

Hermione was already there, surrounded by her bags of books, and beamed at Harry after seeing him with his luggage. “So he really let you go – I’m really glad for you, Harry.”

Harry didn’t know if he’d feel bitter or happy about it, though he forced a smile back at her. He couldn’t tell them anything yet until he could really be certain after he could speak with Dumbledore. He looked at the empty Headmaster’s chair for moment, which was empty.

He’ll be here soon, he said to himself.

Time passed. McGonagall came and sat on her chair and started to eat breakfast.

Any time now…I’ll see him.

Still time passed, and still no Dumbledore.

Feeling increasingly worried, he asked Ron as casually as he could why Dumbledore had not shown himself up to now.

“I heard he traveled to London very early this morning for some meeting,” he answered back, busy spreading butter on his sliced bread. “Busy man, he is, even on Holiday vacation.”

Harry gasped after hearing Ron say where Dumbledore had gone to. Then that meant he would absolutely not come back before the Hogwarts Express departed. No Dumbledore! No vacation with Ron and Hermione. He was doomed to be lonely for the next three weeks. He felt like sinking down to the floor. It was something he refused to accept but at the same time he was so furious with himself! He had to do something about it. Was there? He had to decide if he’d allow himself to suffer. Anything!

He didn’t have the time to ponder at all because Professor McGonagall had tapped him on his shoulder. He quickly glanced at her, open mouthed, not knowing what to do or say at the very moment.

“You didn’t see me yesterday, Mr. Potter,” said McGonagall bluntly. To Harry her voiced seemed to be echoing around his brain and it sounded deafening to his ears. “I wanted to know if you had already spoken to the Headmaster. Last night he told me to talk to you before breakfast…”

No word came out of Harry’s mouth. He didn’t know why, but he swore he tried to shake his head at McGonagall, but what came out was a positive nod instead. She did not read Harry’s look on his face.

“Ah, so you’re an early bird, too, that’s good. Did you fully understand his instructions?”

Again, he seemed to have lost his ability to control his locomotor function for a quick moment, and he nodded again.

McGonagall considered him for a moment (her stare didn’t make Harry very comfortable at all), and broke into a smile. “Very well, then, Harry, I suggest you start eating your breakfast before you go to Hogsmeade Station. You will get hungry on the way. Happy Christmas and see you after New Year.”

“Okay,” he muttered, still nodding uncertainly after McGonagall left. As he looked back on the table, Harry noticed he hadn’t even placed food on his plate at all. Afraid of throwing up his breakfaster later, he decided to skip it.

He had done it. He’d done something terrible as to lie to McGonagall just to spend Christmas outside Hogwarts with his friends. Sure, he would have given up the whole world for that, but what’s the use of a good time if he kept on worrying about being discovered by her and Dumbledore to have sneaked off without permission and risked being suspended for dishonesty and irresponsibility?

Harry knew Dumbledore would eat his head off. He would be so angry with him he’d kick him out of disgust, literally. Suddenly staying at Hogwarts seemed like a good alternative after all.

Would he run to McGonagall and confess to her the truth? Still, she’d know he had lied and will not like it at all and ground him. The damage had been done. Then he thought maybe he could get away with it. Maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore might think McGonagall had given him the permission, and vise-versa, that they won’t bother asking each other. That was a good possibility and he just might be okay, he recklessly believed.

It was amazing for Harry, that when he had snapped back to reality, he was already inside a compartment in the Hogwarts Express with Ron and Hermione as it steamed south. He could not remember ever stepping a foot on Hogsmeade, much more boarding the train and choosing seats. Hermione sat beside him, and she was looking edgily at him with deepening concern.

“Harry, you’re really worrying me,” she complained, “what’s the matter with you?”

“Huh, what’s the matter with who – what?”

“You’ve been moving like a robot since the Great Hall.”

Ron sat on the opposite seat in front of him, looking concerned, too.

“I was?” said Harry.

“Yeah, we thought you’d be overjoyed Dumbledore letting you spend Christmas away from Hogwarts,” said Ron, “but instead it looks like it came to you as a shock!”

“Oh, no, it’s not that…look, I’m happy, see?” Harry said, grinning mightily. “Just thinking deeply about something, that’s all. No, don’t you two worry about it.”

“We will if you keep acting like that all the time,” said Hermione. “Is there something worrying you? Is it about the Death Eaters that might attack you?”

Harry stared at her for a moment and considered her statement. It could be the perfect alibi. He’d probably feel worse if he told them he hadn’t really spoken to Dumbledore, so he chose not to – just yet. “Yeah, yeah, but they can’t touch me, I assure you.” He gave her another quick smile and looked away to the window, watching the countryside pass by.

“Well, okay, if you say so,” shrugged Hermione (Ron, however, didn’t seem convinced yet). “In case you haven’t noticed an owl landing on your lap, I just got a late delivery of the Daily Prophet. This is what Ramius Palkov looks like…” she handed the paper to Harry, who was quick to grab it.

The front page sported a large moving picture of Ramius Palkov – he looked Russian, very grumpy and menacing. The picture was accompanied with the following banner story:

“Disgruntled Auror Behind Dark Mark Murders

Death Eater Wannabe’s on the Run from the Law”

Harry shook his head upon reading the headline with no desire to read through the story.

“I bet they’ve not painted a good picture of him,” he mused.

“Ergh, it’s so horrid to read,” said Hermione, looking disgusted. “I can’t believe they could destroy the career of a good Auror with such rubbish if they wanted to - just to deny Voldemort has really returned and making him a scapegoat.” She bent down to release Crookshanks, who’d been caged under her seat for a long time. “Strangely, though, it took them two days to release the story.”

“I wonder where he’s hiding right now,” said Ron. “Do you think that’s why Dumbledore left Hogwarts today?”

Hermione thought for a moment and said, ““It’s possible - there could be other reasons besides that. Poor Palkov, I hope he’d clear his name in no time. But knowing Fudge, it might take more than a large scale Death Eater attack to convince him otherwise, I’d say it would take…Ow!”

Hermione quickly put a hand over her aching right temple, closing her eyes as the pain lingered. Harry and Ron just looked on at her, doing nothing, because they knew what Madam Pomfrey had told them about the headaches back at the hospital wing. It took some time for the pain in Hermione’s head to subside; she breathed deeply as it went away and opened her eyes, looking ahead listlessly.

“So, you were saying, Hermione…” started Ron.

She, however, stared at Ron and looked deeply confused. “I was saying what?”

“You said Fudge would probably be convinced Palkov is innocent if he takes what?”

Hermione frowned. “What do you mean, Ronald? I wasn’t talking about anything at all – I was trying to go to sleep. Wake me when we get to King’s Cross, will you?” She took out a throw pillow from one of her bags and snuggled up into a corner and shut her eyes.

Ron threw a baffled look at Harry, who quickly explained in an undertone what Madam Pomfrey had told him about Hermione’s occasional states of confusion. Harry assured Ron it was nothing to be really concerned about in the long run, though they both could not help it and looked at her sadly, not believing this could happen to her even if just temporarily.

“You know, Harry,” Ron hissed, “you and Hermione having been really acting weird lately. It seems like you both just came down from another planet…” He shook his head sadly.

Harry just shrugged in the hope of evading having to answer to Ron what was wrong with him. What made Harry really more uncomfortable now was that this was the very first time he had seen Hermione confused, and it was an unpleasant experience, especially for him. Even if he sounded sure about explaining to Ron how impermanent Hermione’s condition was, he still had lingering doubts whether it will stick with her or not. He had so many things going on in his mind to start with; he felt suddenly sick upon witnessing Hermione’s confounded condition.

Somber was the prevailing mood inside their compartment all the way to King’s Cross. In each and every train ride they had, Ron always proposed either to Harry or Hermione to play some wizard games or exploding snap with him to kill time, but not this time. Ron somehow felt things might be totally different from now on, and already missed the usual activities they had as a trio. Upon seeing Ron’s face, Harry made a mental note to talk to him about it at the Burrow at the right time.

The Hogwarts Express arrived at King’s Cross later at almost three o’clock in the afternoon. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys fought through the crowd of overeager Hogwarts students who’d been jamming the barrier to the Muggle World. When they emerged from the barrier after much flowing and squeezing along with the crowd, Harry saw Arthur and Molly Weasley standing together waiting for their children. To their right were Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who also traveled to the station to pick up Hermione.

Harry suddenly felt a bit uneasy after seeing the Grangers, who were now hugging and kissing Hermione. He didn’t know why he was so, because he was supposed to be happy seeing the Grangers reunited after so many months of being away from each other.

Maybe it was the fact that Harry considered it was likely Mr. and Mrs. Granger was completely unaware what their only daughter had been through in the last term. He felt a bit of sadness - if he had not done anything right or if Hermione had not been lucky enough to escape certain death from the Dragon or the Oarling, he would probably see a different scene today – Hermione’s parents waiting for a daughter that will never materialize again at the barrier. That would be a pretty sad scene.

The Grangers probably thought all was well in their daughter’s alternate world, and whether Hermione would tell them what was really going on and what had actually happened to her, he never knew. However, he had faith in Hermione that she could handle her affairs quite excellently, given that she was the brightest witch of her age, and has shown bravery and wit when confronted with extreme danger.

Yet there was another reason for Harry’s sudden sadness, and this time he knew what it was. This meant Hermione could not be with him this Christmas at all…

“Hello, Harry,” said Mr. Granger jovially. “How was your last term? Great, I hope.”

Harry had then snapped back to reality. Hermione and her parents were in front of him now, smiling at him.

“Oh, er, it was - adventurous, sir, thank you,” he said, managing to collect a few words and give him a big smile back.

“Hermione talks a lot about you,” Mrs. Granger said as she hugged Hermione. “Don’t you, dear?” Hermione blushed, and was too abashed to look at Harry.

Hermione then faced her parents. “I’m going to say goodbye to Harry and the Weasleys, Mum and Dad,” she said excitedly. “I’ll be back.” She grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him towards were Molly Weasley was brushing off unseen dust from the coat of a melting Ron.

“Glad you could come with us to the Burrow, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley happily, hugging Harry as he stopped in front of her. She then gave a big smile and a hug to Hermione. “I see you have your parents with you, Hermione. Have a happy Christmas, won’t you?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, I will,” she said. She waved everyone goodbye, and pulled Harry back towards her parents. Halfway back, she stopped to talk to him.

“I’m really glad you’ll be enjoying your vacation, Harry. I’m sorry if I ever tried to prevent you from having one before. And I really feel bad for ever doubting our relationship – I really am.”

Harry breathed and smiled. “Hermione, please don’t apologize – you didn’t prevent me at all. You just told me to think reasonably and…I thank you for that.” Harry had another wave of guilt coming upon saying this, because Hermione never knew he was actually out of Hogwarts without Dumbledore’s knowledge. His eyebrows furrowed again.

Hermione looked concerned seeing the look on his face, and looked up closer to Harry’s eyes. “Harry, what’s wrong?” she said gently.

“Well,” he hesitated, and glanced edgily at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were waiting patiently for Hermione. “I kind of thought all the time you’d be spending Christmas with me…I mean, us at the Burrow. I’ve been looking forward to it all along…”

Hermione groaned and then looked anxiously at Harry, who looked slightly silly with his pouting lips.

“Actually, I wanted to, Harry,” she said tentatively, looking for the right words to say to him. “But you see,” – she sighed – “I haven’t been with my parents for three Christmases and I didn’t want them to feel lonely this year…”

Harry realized this, and he was mad with himself for not thinking about it. He hoped he didn’t look insensitive in front of Hermione. Regaining himself he said, “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to sound - I-I know that, no question about it, you really need to be together” – he paused - “but I wish you told me sooner, because all the while I believed we’ll be together, er, with Ron. But don’t worry, I understand -”

Hermione’s cheeks went red, and she was ashamed at Harry for not telling him sooner. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry,” she said like she was about to cry. “I guess I just forgot! I really did…” She gazed at him, and the look of her eyes effectively magnified the regret she felt. Deep inside, she would have loved to spend time with Harry, too.

This gave Harry even more reason to feel bad about causing Hermione untold stress. “No – no, please, don’t worry about it…I didn’t mean to sound very, uhm, reproachful…”

Hermione chuckled, now amused at how discomfited Harry seemingly was in front of her (which she thought was cute). Of course, Harry could have never guessed Hermione thought that way at the moment and was puzzled as to why she became very giggly.

“Hermione,” called Mrs. Granger. They both snapped their heads towards Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were patiently beckoning Hermione that it was time to go. Harry and Hermione looked back at each other again and they both laughed softly, feeling awkward – or better yet, mushy - again.

“I guess I’ll see you again before the new term,” said Harry quietly. “Promise you’ll be okay?”

“Of course I’ll be okay, Harry, but thanks,” she assured, feeling happy Harry was showing much concern to her. “It’s me who should ask you that – after all, it’s you who’s Voldemort is after, isn’t it? Please do be careful. Wait…”

Her eyes went round for an instant after remembering something, and rummaged in her handbag. “Harry, I want to you to have this, something that will at least help you imagine I’m always with you this Christmas.” She handed him a very nice moving picture of her and Harry beamed. For Harry, a simple thing like a picture was like the most valuable thing she could give him for life.

“You can annoy me in the picture if you feel like it,” Hermione laughed softly. She looked at Harry’s eyes again very fondly. “I don’t mind.”

“Th-thank you, Hermione,” said Harry breathlessly. “but…but I don’t have anything with me to give you.”

“That’s no problem,” she assured him. “You wait here…”

Hermione ran over to a bewildered Ron, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him near where Harry stood. Harry and Ron exchanged baffled looks but then Hermione called to her mother, “Mum, could you…”

Mrs. Granger didn’t need any further telling; she took out an impressive looking Muggle camera, and pointed it to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione threw both her arms around Harry and Ron’s shoulders, pulled them closer warmly with their cheeks almost touching, and they smiled.

Snap!

“Enjoy your Christmas, Ron and Harry!” she said cheerfully, skipping backward to her parents and waving her hand. “Love you lots! We’ll send Owls, okay?”

They waved back to her and her parents; Ron now put an arm around Harry’s shoulder and grinned at him. Harry was still unwilling to let go of Hermione, but he finally accepted the fact that she won’t be around with them this Christmas.

Ron steered Harry back happily to his family, who were now excitedly waiting for them. It was always a great feeling for Harry to be in the company of a very caring family, and it now allowed him to look forward to an enjoyable Christmas with no amount of worry about Voldemort, Death Eaters, (or Dumbledore, oddly) could ever dampen what he felt at that moment.

Except, or course, Hermione’s absence.

-o0o-

The Burrow looked the same like Harry had last seen it since he made an unscheduled visit weeks ago, but not in a bad way. It still looked beautiful to him as they approached the house from the road as they rode the couple rented taxis from King’s Cross Station. However strongly Ron lamented about the bad shape the Burrow was in, it was still home for him and for Harry, and the Weasley family would’ve probably never be the same without it. Harry was very glad everything came back to normal for Ron’s family after Mr. Weasley was disgraced in the Ministry of Magic because of Lucius Malfoy’s reprehensible plot. If not, they would have lost the Burrow from further poverty (Arthur had mulled selling off the property when he voluntarily resigned from his job).

Everybody got off the taxi cabs, and they walked inside the Burrow to the living room; Ginny spun around with glee of being back home again at last and dove back on her favorite couch as her father smiled down at her. Fred and George, however, acted businesslike, both speaking in undertones as they walked up the crazy staircase probably to continue working on with their inventions. Molly looked at the twins from behind with usual suspicion, and her eyes followed them up until they disappeared from view.

Harry laughed quietly, and looked around the sitting room; it only seemed like yesterday when Arthur gave him, Ginny, and Hermione a very hot sermon on hopping on to a very deadly adventure, at the same couch Ginny was sitting on reading a cookbook.

“Nice to be back, isn’t it?” Ginny glowed. “I really thought I’d never enjoy living in the Burrow again. Well, if you ask me, our last experience taught me how to really value the house I’ve grown up in all my life in.”

Harry smiled at her in concurrence; he was happy for them. Though at the present he considered Hogwarts and the Burrow as home, he wondered how it would feel like going back to a house he had lived with his parents for many years. He had always wished for that life that was supposed to have been if it weren’t for Voldemort’s crime. He may have had a happier life compared to this one, and he thought he’d probably have the same friends, acquaintances, and probably enemies – that was perfectly possible. But destiny itself had its own head - the life he had come to accept now and the people he felt lucky to have known might not be the same ones anymore. So Harry chose to count the blessings that came his way, and he was already fortunate to have been very close to the Weasleys, Hermione, and probably the coolest people in the world to him.

“Dinner will come at seven, everyone!” announced Molly, and she turned to Harry. “Your bed is ready, Harry. Why don’t go up and have a rest first and I’ll call you down for dinner.”

Harry smiled as he thanked Mrs. Weasely. He was amused of how sure she was that he’d be spending Christmas with them when he himself almost got left behind at Hogwarts. Then Ron said, “C’mon, Harry, let’s bring our stuff up our room.”

They heaved their luggage up to Ron’s room, which was at the uppermost floor. Panting from all the pulling, they both slumped lazily on their comfy beds.

“Who else is coming home for Christmas, Ron?” Harry asked.

“Only Charlie, I guess.”

“Oh, where’s Percy?”

Ron grunted. He looked irked when he heard Percy’s name. “Probably licking Fudge’s boots to shine as we speak,” Ron said bitterly. “He was at Hogwarts with Fudge a couple of nights ago, didn’t you know?”

Harry couldn’t recall. He had not heard Fudge mention his name, at least. He shook his head. “Was he?”

Ron grunted again. “He was Weaselby – he’s sometimes Williby, or Weatherbee. Fudge can’t remember his proper name, at all, and Percy thinks Fudge can’t live without him. Harry, I’d rather not talk about Percy, okay? He’s done something bad to the family lately and it’s a big source of stress for us.”

“Okay,” said Harry slowly. “Sorry about bringing him up.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Ron laughed, throwing him a pillow on the face. “Hey, can I have a go with the Firebolt again, Harry?”

Harry readily agreed because he had not ridden it for a long time, and they walked back downstairs with Ron carrying the broom. As they did, Harry passed by Percy’s room at the narrow hall; the door was open and he couldn’t get hold of himself so he made a quick peek inside. It was now virtually bare except for a desk, chair, a bookcase full of spell books, and a very neatly made bed.

The last time he had been inside Percy’s room was days ago when he was nursed for his injured ankle by Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. Harry speculated that Percy had gone off on his own. Ron seemed to act bitter about his brother, and Harry thought the family may be, as well. So he made it a personal point not to bring the subject up with the Weasleys anymore, fearing it might spark something bad out of them.

Down at the backyard, Harry sat at the picnic table and he squinted as the low afternoon sun hit his eyes while watching Ron zip by like a red blur with his Firebolt despite the chilly winter air. Harry thought Ron was now getting rather good at it.

As cramped as the backyard as it was, he zipped between, rolled around, and avoided every object on the way of his path (and not getting too high over the tall hedges at the same time to avoid being seen by Muggles). Ron even playfully snatched Harry’s glasses off his face, and when Harry had just barely noticed his eyesight had blurred because it was missing, Ron had turned back and returned it properly on its right place with no sign of damage.

“Don’t hesitate to call our help if Ron gets too annoying, Harry,” said Fred as he approached him with George, his head following Ron’s flight path. “We’re allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts now, as we’re seventh year.”

“We could curse our dear old brother of any spell we know with our heart’s delight,” said George, inhaling the air very deeply.

“I heard that!” Harry heard Ron say at the same time a whooshing sound went past him.

The twins then sat with him at the picnic table. Fred carried something wrapped in a hanky, which caught Harry’s attention. “What’s that you got there?” asked Harry.

“This is the pocket portkey we borrowed from you, Harry,” replied Fred. “We’ve discovered every nuts and bolts to it and we’re now returning it to you.”

“Thanks to you,” added George, bowing low, “we could now produce our very own models.”

“Until we could make sense out of all the figures we gathered on it, at least,” Fred said further. “What’s more, we found out you’d been had, my friend.”

“What do you mean I’ve been had?” said Harry, perplexed. Fred and George nudged each other and laughed.

“You paid for this, didn’t you? You actually paid more than what you’re getting. We know every pocket portkey must have at least an even number of uses on them. They have to be even. The guy who sold it to you said you can only use it three times, didn’t he? So who in his right mind would use the Portkey a third time and then worry how to get back where he came from the next?”

Harry nodded, now getting the twins’ logic.

“Well, we discovered a way to unlock its full potential – you can actually use this up to six times. Well, four actually, now that you’ve used it twice…”

“Wow! That’s great, guys, thanks!” said Harry cheerfully. “Actually, it was a huge bargain. I only paid four Galleons.”

“Only four Galleons,” repeated Fred faintly. “Only four Galleons he says. That’s a fortune, Harry!”

“Compared with the Thirty Galleons the bartender charged us first?” Harry pointed out. “Four is an unbelievable bargain. Our friend Willard helped us haggle with the price.”

Upon hearing that, he saw the twins look blankly ahead, their faces written with expressions of heavy expectation, and their blue eyes looked like it was glinting with gold from Harry’s view.

“C’mon, we’ve got very serious work to do,” Fred told his twin. They thanked Harry again for the favor, and then they ran off back to the Burrow.

As Harry examined his Portkey, he then remembered Willard, the stranger who helped him and Ron from a very difficult situation. It would be nice to pop in at his little hotel again for a visit, he thought. Except for the letters he sent to Willard, he hadn’t personally thanked him for his generosity.

He’d probably be surprised and glad to see us during this holiday season, he thought.

Only that he remembered Hermione again and wished she was spending time with them at the Burrow now, because he would have loved to bring her to Willard to be introduced – he did make a small promise he’d meet her at one point. Feeling it was just a missed opportunity, unfortunately, he nevertheless decided he’d use the restored Portkey to pay him a visit soon. He’d talk about it with Ron, who might be willing to go with him, too, and perhaps they could set a date and time for it.

Dinner had arrived later and with true Molly Weasley fashion. Harry wasn’t disappointed with the food; it was roasted chicken, heavily buttered mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and sumptuous lasagna for tonight. Everything tasted delicious that Harry didn’t know what food to concentrate on. Molly promised of more good things to come for the next few days, and Harry wondered how he’d look like after three weeks were up. Feeling heavier than he was half an hour ago, he felt sleepy, and started to walk up the stairs with Ron to clean themselves up for the night.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth, Ronald!” Molly shrieked from the first floor amid the sound of laughter from Fred, George, and Ginny. Ron grumbled all the way up the top of the stairs.

Harry slumped on his bed chest down while Ron did brush his teeth at the bathroom. He then carefully looked around behind him. Making sure Ron was nowhere in sight, and reached for Hermione’s picture hidden under the mattress. He didn’t understand why all of a sudden he missed looking at her face and yearned for her company even more.

He sighed as Hermione in the moving picture wiggled her nose at him.

“You look real cute, don’t you?” he whispered, and Hermione moved sheepishly sideways, flattered at what he said.

Then the familiar guilt that came with each thought of her coursed through his chest again. She was just his best friend, and he felt he didn’t have the right to desire her. He then thought it would probably prove detrimental to the little trio he had formed with her and Ron if he ever had a romantic relationship with Hermione. Harry closed his eyes again tightly and laughed softly.

Romantic relationship?

Now, where did that come from? Why did he think of that now, like it would come in his future? This was just like back at the lake in Hogwarts, and he almost told her that he dreaded not seeing her eyes anymore if she truly died. Well, that was slightly true of course. Her eyes did look pretty when he looked at the picture again. The real thing would be even much prettier. Harry then sighed upon remembering the feeling he got when Hermione hugged him when she cried along the corridors at Hogwarts…it was extremely wonderful. Then the same guilt came back again to him pretty quickly.

He heard the door to the bathroom open, and he quickly hid the picture back under his mattress. This wasn’t the right time Ron would find out about this yet.

“You allright, there, Harry?” said Ron, smiling. “Anyway, thanks for the ride with the Firebolt – I didn’t know I could do things with it I can’t imagine doing with Fred’s broom.”

“You’re welcome, Ron,” said Harry. He turned upright on his bed, glad that Ron came up with some ideas to talk about. He then remembered to discuss his idea with Ron about visiting Willard, which he found very exciting.

“How about tomorrow, Harry, right after lunch? Mum and Dad won’t be home then. We could sneak off and get back before dinner.”

“Yeah, that sounds real great,” Harry said, now looking forward to their little excursion. “I think I’m gonna have to go to sleep now. G’night!” With a long yawn, Harry turned himself back chest down, leaving Ron to open his favorite book about the Chudley Cannons.

Harry suddenly lost his sleepiness, because he now remembered to worry about what an incensed Dumbledore might say to him. It looked like he hadn’t come back at Hogwarts up to now because it seemed he had not known he was missing yet. Otherwise, he probably had gotten a Howler demanding him to explain why he’s in the Burrow when he was supposed to be at Hogwarts this afternoon already. Even so, Harry expected Dumbledore will still know soon enough. He thought worrying now wasn’t doing any good; he was already in hot water anyway, so he shook his mind and looked for anything else to think about – maybe something happy.

Then Hermione’s face came vividly in. Now that was something happy. He sighed. He couldn’t help but think of her, too, and he couldn’t now deny he had a budding infatuation with his best friend. If embarking on a romantic affair with her might be dangerous for this trio, then perhaps dreaming – just dreaming about her - won’t hurt. He closed his eyes and then he gradually drifted off to sleep.

Only that the dream he wanted didn’t come as he hoped for.

-o0o-

Harry was standing on a dark-colored stone floor, in a room surrounded with four shadowy walls as far as the eye could see. He walked a few feet, hoping to get to at least one of them. The floor did roll below him, but the walls did not seem to come nearer at all. Then he ran. It didn’t help a bit – he was moving in slow motion. Maybe there was a way out – the feeling was already drowning him – like he felt he could go on forever.

He then heard voices - and laughter from afar. Harry steered himself to the direction of the sounds hoping to find anybody there who might lead him the way out. As he gained ground, the voices became clearer – their words more pronounced. He had heard that voice before several times. It was Voldemort, and his voice became louder, the words uttered appeared repetitious and he could now understand what he was saying.

“…Kill the Mudbood…Kill the Mudblood…”

His heart sank. He thought of the obvious.

He had to do something to stop it. He ran further, until he chanced upon an old wardrobe cabinet the materialized out of thin air and standing in front of him.

“Kill the Mudblood…”

Harry had to open the wardrobe to see who was inside it - he felt like he knew who was in there. He didn’t want to, but he had to know.

“Open it, Harry!” said Voldemort, laughing mirthlessly.

“No, it couldn’t be…please don’t let it be her…”

He reached for the knob and turned it slowly. He braced himself of what was to come, dreading it. “Please let it be just a boggart,” he prayed. Then what he saw made him yell.

Professor Russelpunk was dead, very pale and hanging on a gallow apparently of his own making inside the cabinet. His eyes and mouth hang open as if what he saw last was the most fearsome thing he had ever seen.

“The Mudblood is dead!” and he heard more mirthless laughter echoing throughout…

“Harry, Harry, wake up!” said Ron sleepily. “You’re having another of one of your nightmares again.”

Harry woke up and popped upright from his bed. His scar hurt again, though it wasn’t painful enough and he didn’t press it with a hand. “I-I saw Russelpunk dead, Ron,” he panted.

Ron, however, didn’t look shocked. Instead he said thoughtlessly, “Good, tell me how tomorrow morning.” He then got back on his bed and instantly snored.

Harry looked at Ron exasperatedly, laid his head back on his pillow, and pressed his palms against his face. He had been dreaming things that turned real forever, though not all. It could have just been a product of his imagination because, well, he thought he’d never care about what happened to Russelpunk – he was only his teacher since the last term.

Still, Harry allowed himself to feel relieved for a moment. He actually thought it was Hermione in the dresser. He thought Voldemort had found out about his feelings with her and he had been planning to take her away from him forever. Fortunately, this it wasn’t the case.

However, seeing Russelpunk dead in a probable premonition he thought that by doing nothing for him he might fully regret it later on because it was still a human life that may be in mortal danger. And every life was precious unlike Voldemort believed.

What was it with these bloody dreams? What can he do? He knew he can’t just write a note to Russelpunk and simply say, “Good morning sir. Oh, by the way, don’t kill yourself next with a rope tied around your neck!”

With both of them so far away from each other, Harry could only hope Russelpunk was all right and that it was not a vision of something that’s already happened at the present. He was already too anxious to know already this time of night that he found it very difficult to fall back to sleep.

-o0o-

Harry did fall asleep.

The first thing he did in the morning after he woke up was to take out a piece of parchment from his chest and began writing anyway. He had to know how Russelpunk was. He paused for a moment, and decided not to make his letter direct. He thought of a way, now that he was thinking more clearly than in the middle of the night.

Dear Professor Russelpunk,

Hello, I hope you’re fine. I thought I’d list some possible spells that you would consider including in our lessons after the New Year. I’ll list it down in the next parchment before I’d forget them again. If you get this list, please send back a reply with Hedwig, my snowy owl.

Harry Potter

After looking up at least ten good spells he’d personally want to learn from a spell book he found in Percy’s room, he prodded Hedwig awake to tell her who to deliver the letter to.

“Make sure he writes back, and if he’s dead, return the letter to me quickly,” he instructed. “Off you go, now.” Hedwig obliged and flew off with the envelope.

Harry didn’t take off his sight of Hedwig until she disappeared over the horizon. He didn’t know where Russelpunk lived, or if he had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. Since he was a Muggle, he’d probably had to want spending his holidays in the Muggle world.

Harry spent most of his morning hours waiting for Hedwig to come back, but it was now after lunch and there was still no sign of her. Resigned to that fact that he’d get a reply from the Professor (hopefully) after he came back from visiting Willard, he looked for Ron. Ron was ready to go – he made sure that his parents were already away (Mr. & Mrs. Weasley went off to visit some friends at London).

Only Ginny was at home besides Harry and Ron, and she was also in to the plan. If ever Mr.& Mrs. Weasley wondered where they been off to, she’d just simply say, “Ron’s secret place”.

Harry and Ron put on their robes over their thick clothes; Harry then took out his Pocket Portkey – it was a replica of a zippo lighter – and concentrated hard of the very spot he wanted to pop out on. He then turned the knob slowly thrice. After six seconds they felt the usual tug of the Portkey, flew along the length of the swirling grey-colored twister within, and seconds later they landed softly on a hearth rug in the middle of the hotel’s small lobby.

“I think we’re here,” said Ron, recognizing the furniture and decorations of Willard’s small, but cozy hotel. However, the lobby was eerily empty – dark and quiet. The few round dining tables had not been cleaned up (used bottles were still on them) and the couches and chairs were haphazardly arranged.

Ron looked at Harry with a frown on his face and said, “Harry, why the lobby? There could have been Muggles around…”

“Sorry,” said Harry, shrugging. “This is the only part of the hotel I remember pretty well.” He looked around. “D’you think he’s home?”

“I suppose,” replied Ron, walking a little deeper in the hotel slowly. “He didn’t have any customers around when we came here to begin with…”

Harry looked for the way towards the kitchen and called, “Hello? Hello, anybody home?” No answer.

They felt increasing disappointed after they kept calling for anyone without any response.

“Seems no one’s home…” said Ron, but he paused when he heard brisk footsteps coming from the kitchen. “Oh, I think that’s him,” he smiled to Harry. The door opened slowly. Expecting to see Willard emerging from the door, they grinned at that direction.

But what Harry saw made him lose his grin abruptly.

It wasn’t Willard – it was someone else - a man he didn’t recognize. He was pointing a wand at them, moving forward, looking determined to kill!

“RON! It’s an attack!”

Ron didn’t need telling twice. They both dove under the tables at the same time as a violent spell zipped past over their heads (almost changing where they parted their hair) and hitting an object somewhere behind them that fell and broke on the floor with a loud crash.

Believing this wasn’t a warm welcome at all, Harry drew his wand out of his robe though he wasn’t sure if it was safe to perform magic without being expelled and if this little situation fell under the conditions of being under mortal danger. One thing was for sure, he’d use if he was forced to.

Under the tables, Harry and Ron saw the feet of the wizard move closer to where they hid, and they expected next he was about to destroy the table top above to expose them. “Harry, we’re sitting ducks here...” Ron said urgently but as quietly as he could.

Harry looked in his eyes, nodded once, and glanced up the underside of the table. Ron nodded back after he got the message. With tightened faces, they got ready.

When the wizard moved in close enough and started muttering a new spell, they grabbed and lifted the table by its legs, lunging towards him using the table for protection, and rammed him like a speedy bulldozer. This knocked the wizard painfully backward off his feet, and they all fell to the floor in heap. While the wizard was pinned on the floor by the table with Harry and Ron adding more weight to it, Harry heard the soft clatter of a wand and saw it roll away!

Taking the opportunity to disarm the wizard, Harry sprang up after it. However, the wizard had seen him and grabbed his ankle, making Harry fall down on the floor! The wand was almost within his reach, but he could only grasp thin air as the wizard fought to prevent him from taking the wand, yelling from all the effort.

Ron came to Harry’s rescue and smashed a small bottle on the wizard’s wrist of the hand that held on to Harry, making him howl in pain and release his grip. Finally free, Harry crawled hurriedly a little further, scooped the loose wand off the floor, pointed it back to the wizard, and yelled at Ron to move back to a safer spot.

“Please…please don’t hurt us!” said the wizard painfully, his voice shaking. He slowly slid off the table on top of his chest. “We’ve done nothing wrong with you, please!”

“Don’t you dare make any sudden moves or I’ll jinx you,” shouted Harry, slightly panting. “Who are you? Where’s Willard?”

“P-please leave us alone!” At last Harry saw the face of the wizard as the table finally slipped off towards the floor. There he was, shaking, lying on his back on the floor, and looked back and forth to Harry and Ron who were flanking him on both sides. He looked unkempt like he had been in a mess for several days.

“Stay on the floor!” Ron warned when the wizard tried to lift his body to sit up, and he obeyed. He still looked scared and laid back flat on his back with the force of Ron’s shoving foot.

“Who are you stranger?!?” asked Harry again.

“I-I’m Steve, S-Steve Wraskon,” he said, shaking. “You know who I am. Y-you’re D-Death Eaters, aren’t yeh?”

“Of course not! Do we look like Death Eaters to you?” said Ron, looking extremely insulted.

Steve suddenly looked perplexed. “T-then you didn’t come back here to get her?”

“Get who?” asked Harry, still pointing Steve’s wand at him. “We came here to pay Willard a visit - and you came out to attack us!” Harry wiped his arm once over his sweaty forehead, and Steve’s eyes went round when he saw his scar.

“Good Lord! Y-you must be Harry Potter!” Steve said, pointing at the scar and sounding slightly relieved. “Please, I’m not your enemy, Mr. Potter, I-I was just afraid you were Death Eaters coming back and I tried to defend her.” Harry, however, didn’t trust Steve yet and kept on pointing the wand at him.

“Who the bloody hell are you talking about?” yelled Ron. “Who’s her?”

“My daughter. Stephanie.”

“Stephanie?!?” repeated Harry and looked at Ron, who also recognized the girl’s name as Willard’s favorite niece. “Then you must be…”

“Willard’s younger brother…” Steve finished Harry’s sentence for him.

“So, then, where’s Willard?” asked Harry, lowering the wand slowly.

“Uncle Willard’s gone,” said a sad girl’s voice softly from the door.

Harry snapped his head towards her direction. He saw young Stephanie for the first time. She was clinging on the edge of the doorway tightly, and she looked like she hadn’t fixed herself up for days like her father.

“The Death Eaters have him.”

-o0o-

Next chapter: “Death Eaters Attack”

7. Curious Disappearances

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page.

A/N: Hello I’m back! Quite a hectic two weeks for me. Thanks for checking out this story! Anyway, here is the next chapter of the story. It’s 99% edited. Please kindly leave reviews. :-) Thanks!!!

*** Chapter 6: “Curious Disappearances” ***

Harry stared at the girl who had just come out from behind the door to the kitchen. She was about twelve or thirteen; had long straight black hair, light skinned, very slender, and a head shorter than him. She looked scared, and didn’t look as if she fully trusted Harry yet (despite the fact she had said where her Uncle Willard was).

Steve took a look at Stephanie quickly as he sat still on the floor. “Dear child - what did I say to you about not getting out without my signal?” he said severely.

“It’s okay, we won’t hurt you two anymore…” said Harry to Steve. Harry looked slowly at Stephanie and then said in a manner as if a sudden change of volume might scare her, “You must be Stephanie – Willard told me a lot about you. I’m Harry Potter. And this is my best friend, Ron Weasley.” Ron smiled curtly, made a quick wave at her, and withdrew his hands to his back.

“Yes, I’ve been wanting to meet in person you ever since,” she replied, now with a lighter voice, slowly going out into the lobby. “But not looking like this…”

She looked down at herself and glanced back to Harry and Ron, looking embarrassed. Her clothes were a little dirty, suggesting that she had been sitting on a lot of dust for some time.

“No, it’s fine,” said Harry, “I mean, really - it doesn’t matter.” He looked at Steve who was still sitting down on the floor, and offered his hand to help him up. Steve smiled and took it gratefully, and just as soon he was upright, he and Harry shook hands. Harry had then noticed Steve was a large man, much taller than lying flat on the floor. He surely looked able to have put him and Ron out cold with just his bare hands without much difficulty.

“I’m glad to meet you, Harry Potter,” he said with another sigh of relief in his voice. “Just so we’re properly introduced, I’m Steve Wraskon, and this is my daughter Stephanie.”

Harry also introduced Ron to him and asked, “Since when was Willard been captured by Death Eaters?”

“Less than a week ago,” replied Steve sadly. “They came again for him, and this time they took him away.”

“You said ‘again’,” said Ron, baffled. “Then they were here before for him?”

“That’s what he told me while he was here - please, sit down,” Steve replied, motioning Harry and Ron to sit around a small round table with four stools similar to the one they wrecked. Stephanie went back to the kitchen, apparently to get something.

“Stephanie and I came here days before the Death Eaters did,” said Steve as he walked to the front windows and peeked outside. “Will told me he met you, Harry, and he had brought you to the nearby witches’ pub to help you buy something important for a bargain. He was really happy about it. But when you left, some Death Eaters were already waiting for him to return here and tortured him for information about your whereabouts.”

Harry and Ron ran a hand on their hair at the same time, feeling guilty of creating even more trouble for Will, who was a very unselfish man. “Did he get hurt?”

Steve saw their faces and said, “Don’t feel bad for him – sure, he was hurt for a while but he asked us to come for him and Stephanie here is quite good in magical medicine despite her young age - she mended every broken bone and aching muscle Will had – but he didn’t blame you one bit, I know.” Steve moved towards the table Harry and Ron sat beside at, pulled out a chair for his own, and sat down. Upon hearing about Willard’s broken bones, Harry and Ron moaned in regret.

Stephanie came back from the kitchen with two bottles of Butterbeer on a tray, and placed them in front of Harry and Ron at the round table.

“Stephanie – oh, please, you don’t have to…” said Harry clumsily.

Stephanie only smiled at him and sat down beside her father to listen in to their conversation. Harry had thought that it was probably in their family’s nature to be very hospitable to their visitors, and it even made him much guilty knowing that he had hurt Steve first and then got served with drinks. Still, Harry knew they only got violent after Steve mistook them for Death Eaters and almost killed them on the spot so they were even, he thought. Nevertheless, he thanked Stephanie for the Butterbeer, which tasted nice when chilled.

“And you said they came back for him – for what?” said Ron, gulping down butterbeer down his throat and eager for answers.

“We don’t know,” said Steve, “but we just have hunches. They just came in one night while we were serving guests, stunned him, ransacked the cellar, and took him away – scared the hell out of the customers. Before they were all gone, though, they threatened me and Stephanie not to go reporting the incident to the Aurors, or they will kill my brother. They also told us not to step out of this place, or they will find us in no time and kill us. And they said they will tell Will when he woke up to cooperate with them, or else they kill Stephanie.” Steve sighed, and Stephanie shuddered. “Worst, they even sealed this hotel from both Muggle and wizard sight. We could shout and bang chairs for years and nobody would ever hear or notice us. Not even owls could find us.”

“That’s terrible!” said Harry, horror-struck. “They didn’t leave you with any choice at all! What if you starved and needed to find food outside?”

“Yeah, we were coming to that, almost. Seems they left us for dead.”

“From the looks of it, they look to be trying to force Willard to do something for them, too – what could it be?”

“I’ve been suspecting that it has to do about something he does as a hobby,” said Steve thoughtfully. “The place in the cellar that the Death Eaters made a mess out of was Will’s small laboratory – didn’t he show it to you? No? Well, he loves to mix all kinds of chemicals – potions if it’s for wizard. He’s discovered a few new useful things for a couple of years, been recognized by the Bureau of Magical Potions for his work on cooking up the best treatment for magical herb maladies. He then invested all the money he earned out of it, which was not at all big, but just enough to start his hotel business.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other in surprise, but they understood they had just met Willard for a night and he may have had a lot of achievements that they didn’t know of. “But he didn’t finish school, did he?” said Ron brazenly.

Steve didn’t find that at all annoying. He smiled and answered, “Yes, that’s true, but some achievers didn’t get to finish school, like Miranda Hingkeltub, who discovered the uses of the Hingkeltub Fallow Sap, which was named after her. But don’t get that to your heads, kids, because you can do even much better if you’ve finished school!” He looked at Harry, Ron and Stephanie.

“So what’s the connection between the treatment for maladies with his kidnapping? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe You-Know-Who could be hurt badly!” theorized Ron hopefully. “They need a miracle drug to heal him!”

“Possibly. Now that would be a very good thought…”

“And it could be for something else,” added Steve, shrugging. “We just don’t know. But they have him for some reason…”

“Do you have any idea where they might have brought him?” asked Harry.

Steve just shook his head, but he soon remembered something. “I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about a terrible fortress – You-Know-What. It’s quite possible he’s been brought there…I don’t know. He could be anywhere!”

“Hey, how many people know about Xanthius now?” said Harry, interested to know what people think about the fortress. Steve, Stephanie, and Ron jumped upon hearing the name.

“Just about everybody,” said Stephanie, wiping the tabletop of spilled Butterbeer with a rag. “Everyone gets freaked out when they talk about it. I mean, it’s just terrible – rumors of more disappearances, people telling stories how they were taken away and had seen You-Know-What…”

“Which is rubbish, I know,” added Steve. “Their claims, I mean. You know how people talk. I think if you’d see it once, you’re good as dead…”

He stopped talking when he heard Stephanie let out a sob. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but we’re not even sure Uncle Willard’s in You-Know-What yet…” He embraced his now crying daughter to comfort her.

Harry sighed and looked at them sadly. It was indeed quite heartbreaking to know Willard could now be in mortal danger. He was such a good man and Harry wished he could have known more of him. He didn’t deserve such a fate at all. He wanted to tell them that he had indeed been to Xanthius and had actually escaped from Voldemort to give them hope Willard could also pull that off, but Harry was only because he got lucky and had help with his friends. Willard might be alone in Xanthius right now with no help to turn to - if he was indeed brought there. Yet, he could be thousands of other places like Steve said.

“About his hobby – can we see his lab? If it’s all right…” asked Ron.

“Oh, that’s perfectly okay,” assured Steve. He stood up from his chair (Stephanie still clung to him) and beckoned Harry and Ron to go follow him. “I’ll lead you two downstairs to it.”

They entered the kitchen. It smelled of stale food – Harry and Ron covered their noses as they passed by the pantry, watching and following Steve and Stephanie. Upon reaching a dark area in the kitchen, Steve dropped to one knee and pried a loose concrete slab off the floor, which revealed a wooden trapdoor covering a stairway leading down. One by one they filed in, until they were all inside a fairly wide, well-lit, and well maintained laboratory filled with different herbs, chemicals, beakers – the works. They saw a living monkey in a cage screeching at the unexpected visitors, and some white mice running a exercise wheel inside their own. The floor was wet and slippery with mixed liquid, and sharp broken glass were scattered everywhere. “What a mess!” Ron observed. “They really worked his lab out…”

“He spent a lot of his free time here discovering useful things,” said Stephanie, who had now calmed a bit already. “He’s really my idol…”

Harry smiled at her, and she smiled back. Harry knew how happy Willard was each time he talked about his niece, and he had now appreciated how very close they were.

Steve moved to the storage cabinet containing different kinds of mixed potions. “Nothing looks missing around – except in here.” He opened it, and Harry saw the shelf labeled “Metavira Potion – potent mix” was bare.

“What’s the Metavira Potion do?” asked Harry interestedly. Steve just shrugged because he didn’t have a clue what it was made for.

“He didn’t talk much about his work, except that he liked to work. But I bet that’s what they wanted along with him and his journal. I couldn’t find the journal everywhere – it’s quite large and too colorful to miss.”

“Whatever the potion was,” thought Harry, “I think it does something they think it’s useful for their purpose. We must find out what it does, and maybe it could help us understand why they took Willard.”

“Thought so, too,” Steve smiled slightly. “Only that we had no way of knowing while we were stuck here.”

“We’ve been cooped up in the hotel for days,” added Stephanie. “We didn’t know who to call, who to turn to. And we didn’t dare step out the door of this hotel because we were scared they might know about it and seek us out.”

Steve nodded. “And, thank God, you were the first to come here, not Death Eaters…I bet her classmates are wondering what happened to her.”

“You need help,” declared Harry. “I want to help you – but I don’t know how to start…”

Steve pondered. “Well, we’re already happy that somebody as friendly like you had found us here - at least whatever bad happened to us won’t be a mystery…and we do wish we could get out of here, but, you know…”

Ron moved forward. “Maybe we could help evacuate you, if you want. Dad’s from the Ministry. He might be able to do something to help you. I can’t make any promises, but he has friends who are Aurors. The Burrow’s big enough for all of us, and then some.”

“Thanks, Ron, good idea, it’s the best chance we’ve got,” Harry said. He then turned back to Steve. “We’re gonna have to spirit you both out of here to the Burrow – that’s Ron’s house. Mr. Weasley knows who to trust in the Ministry, does he, Ron?” Ron nodded.

Steve and Stephanie was glad at first from hearing that, but then glanced at each other apprehensively. Harry read through their faces what they may have been hesitant of - that is, possible retribution from the Death Eaters.

“But the Death Eaters…” said Stephanie, looking alarmed as Harry had expected. “They might find out we’ve gone and they’ll go looking for us. And if they knew we went talking, they’ll kill Uncle Willard!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other uncertainly after they were reminded of this. They were thinking very recklessly of their next move without even considering the risks. Still, it won’t make things better if the two stayed holed up in this hotel, and they might be attacked anytime and there was no way of others to know what had happened to them. Whichever way they turned, they needed to get out, though they had to tread carefully.

“Then we’ll try to do this in secret,” said Ron shortly, his eyes rolling while he was thinking. “Need to know basis – I know Dad had done some covert action before. I could go back to the Burrow and tell Dad first – talk to him about this. He might have better solutions how to hide your escape. Then whatever happens, we’ll come back here either with help or maybe with just a few ideas…” ”

However, Steve and Stephanie still looked worried. They weren’t sure if they’d also take the risk, though they were indeed thankful Harry and Ron were going out of their way to solve their problems.

“Yeah, I think that’s a better way,” Harry agreed. “That way we won’t get them into trouble early, and we could have some new things to think it over with. I still have about three uses left on my portkey. Can you work it yourself, Ron? We just can’t leave them here by themselves.”

Ron thought for a moment and nodded his head when he understood why Harry had to stay behind for the meantime and that he had to go back to the Burrow temporarily by himself. Leaving with him together for help might cause Steve and Stephanie to doubt them ever coming back again or get attacked while they were away.

“Yeah, Harry, I can,” said Ron firmly.

Harry then looked at Steve, whose face now became firm. “Do you trust us, Steve? We want to know if you feel like leaving this place.”

Steve nodded. “Yes we do, don’t we Steph? We thank you for all your effort and trouble. They’ll come for us anyway – Death Eaters can’t be trusted, and I hope word won’t go out we’ll be reporting this to the Aurors or else it’s Willard’s life that might get lost.”

Ron took the Portkey from Harry and said, “Going back here might take some time – I have to look for my Dad, but I’ll be back tonight whether he agrees or not.”

Harry nodded and reminded Ron what to do with Portkey. It was Harry who was always using the object, but just a little concentration was what he really needed to make it work. “We’ll stay beyond the kitchen,” he said.

“I’ll call your name first to let you know it’s me, Harry.” Ron vanished shortly, while Harry, Steve, and Stephanie were all left in the hotel.

“Come, Harry,” Steve said shortly. “Let’s wait in the lab. It’s safer there.”

-o0o-

It’s been four hours and Ron hadn’t come back yet, though they’ve been expecting this. He might still be waiting for his Dad to come home to the Burrow from London, and explaining things to him also would take some time. If Ron was successful in convincing his dad to help, they would still have to wait while Mr. Weasley would call for help from his colleagues. Then they will still have to plan their moves, which would take even more time – that is, if Ron did it right. But Harry had faith with his best friend, yet he couldn’t help to think of the possibilities that things might not happen as they hoped. “Brace for the worst and hope for the best” was his motto of the day.

To kill the time off he spent waiting for Ron, Harry helped Steve and Stephanie clean up Willard’s kitchen and lab from the mess and debris. While doing so they talked about many things and he had learned more about father and daughter.

Harry learned Steve was a bank clerk on leave from Ireland – he had asked to use his vacation privileges to assist his brother with his hotel while he was recovering from his injuries. Stephanie, meanwhile, was actually a third-year student at Westwall School of Magic, the counterpart of Hogwarts in Ireland. The Headmistress of Westwall had granted her two weeks off her formal schooling to help heal Willard, which was actually applicable to her training as future Healer. Stephanie was into her second week away from her school. They hadn’t expected to be stranded in the hotel at all, and luckily Harry had thought of paying Willard a visit or else no one might have known about their situation here.

“I really want to thank you, Harry, for all the help you’re extending to us,” said Steve sincerely for the millionth time. “I’m at a loss of how we could repay you…”

Harry smiled and said, “You’re welcome. But you don’t have to, Steve. Willard was very kind to us and this is the least we could do. Not that we’re just doing this to repay him, but I just can’t stand leaving you and Stephanie alone this way. The Death Eaters have been very mean with you - you all don’t deserve this. You really need to get out here safely and quietly.”

“Uncle Willard always told me you were such a nice person, Harry,” said Stephanie with gratefulness emanating from her eyes. “He wasn’t wrong…you’re more than that – like the stories I’ve heard at school – you’re a real hero, you are.” She then beamed at him.

“Thanks,” said Harry. He felt really flattered at what Stephanie said. “But we’re still not out of the woods yet, as Ron’s not back…”

Harry checked his watch. It was past five already. What could be taking Ron so long? For a fleeting moment, Harry thought of something horrible that might have happened to Ron. It was possible he had gotten lost and had to use the portkey the fifth and sixth time – or maybe Death Eaters have intercepted him and then took him away.

Here I go again, being the pessimist, Harry angrily told himself. Minutes earlier he was quite the opposite of it.

Soon Harry heard a faint pop from upstairs, and another, like the sound made by anyone apparating in. The three stopped cleaning the lab and looked up the ceiling.

“Could that be Ron with help now?” said Stephanie expectantly.

Harry, however, held out a hand to signal her to keep quiet. If it was really the sound of an apparation, then it could not have been Ron. He didn’t know how to yet, along with him and Hermione. He had expected Ron to come back with the use of the portkey (which didn’t make any sound at all).

It was possible that they could be Aurors already sent in for them, but then again they could be Death Eaters or somebody entirely different - somebody who could be dangerous. Harry had to be careful meeting their “visitors”, and he got ready for anything.

Harry glanced at Steve and mouthed the words “wands out”. Steve nodded and took out his wand, his face going back to what Harry had seen on him when he had gone out to attack him. “Stephanie, stay in the lab…”

But Stephanie had her wand out, too.

“There could be more of them than you two,” said Stephanie severely. “We need all the hands on deck!”

This time Steve didn’t protest and Harry led the way to peek out of the trap door. He had emerged with just a more few steps the ground floor, and looked around. There were shadows moving across the doorway to the lobby. They looked big. Ron could have already called out Harry’s name, but up to now, whoever was up there hadn’t talked. Harry then saw the shadows getting nearer the kitchen door, and it opened slowly, making a creaking sound.

“Harry Potter,” said the man’s rough voice, “are you in here?”

It wasn’t Ron’s voice for sure. It was somebody else’s. It was very hoarse, and he had heard it somewhere before. It was a very familiar voice – but he couldn’t recall at once.

“Slowly, it might be an ambush,” said the wizard again.

“Ambush?” said another voice – female this time. She sounded young. “Harry Potter can’t use magic here – he’d be expelled at school!”

“Shhhh- quiet! Don’t count on it…just be prepared.”

Harry was sure whoever they were knew he was hiding here. Yeah, you wait and see, whoever you are…

He sank back to the cellar, and planned his next move with Steve, but he froze when he heard the man say “I see him down at the cellar…with two others.” Harry gulped – how could he have seen them all when they still outside the kitchen?

“Harry, what is it?” hissed Steve, reading the look on Harry’s face.

“Whoever’s up there, they know we’re down here!” he exclaimed as softly as he could. “And where we’re hiding!”

“But how’s that possible?” asked Stephanie, her eyes widening. They snapped their heads up the cellar’s ceiling again when they heard very heavy and very loud footsteps coming from up above.

“Come out, come out, Potter! We’re here for you,” called the wizard above hoarsely. He now sounded very dangerous. Harry, Steve, and Stephanie reared back towards the farthest wall facing cellar stairs and got their wands at the ready. Harry thought of a good curse to cast, expulsion from school be damned - he was being threatened!

“He’s coming!” whimpered Stephanie.

Then Harry saw the feet of the wizard from above limp down the stairs in front of him. Before Harry had a good line of sight to get a good shot, his wand had flown off mysteriously from his hand, leaving him unarmed.

“Flipendo Tria!” bellowed Steve, but missed the wizard by an inch, hitting the wooden staircase and collapsing it. The wizard fell down with it a couple feet to the floor, but kept on standing straight as if nothing had shaken where he stood.

“Expelliarmus!” the wizard barked, and Steve was thrown off painfully back to the wall, and slid down to the floor. Stephanie screamed. The wizard had the ugliest face she had ever seen in her life!

“What’re you staring at, girl?” he growled menacingly. “Do I look that ugly to you?”

Stephanie instantly went silent.

Even if Harry had been devoid of a wand, he thought he could still get physical. “You’re not the real Mad-Eye-Moody!” he growled.

Harry sprinted towards him, right arm extended backward, hand clenched into a fist, and took very careful aim at the spinning eye. Getting to within a few feet from his target, Harry threw the punch but…

Poof! Pop!

The Moody look-alike dissaparated and apparated again, sending Harry through and flying off on top of the long table at the middle of lab, scattering stuff all over the floor! Harry looked back painfully at “Moody” who remained standing where he had last seen him, tutting annoyingly.

“You call that a move, Potter? Pathetic!” he commented while he shook his head. Harry roared in anger having been played at by this - impostor. Then he heard running footsteps again upstairs. Before Harry could make another move, “Moody’s” female companion had run into the lab, landing in between the two, heavily panting.

“Hold your horses!” she shouted urgently, holding out both hands. “Before you hurt yourself, Harry, you need to calm down!”

“Who’re you to tell me to calm down?!?” Harry yelled at the young woman who had weird purple hair.

“I’m Nymphadora Tonks!” she replied, breathing heavily. “Tonks, for short – Tonks. We’ve been sent in by Dumbledore to get you out of here.”

“Dumbledore?” said Harry suspiciously. “How did he know I was here?”

“Weasley’s son, he came asking for help…didn’t he, Harry?”

“So where’s Ron?” At the same moment Harry heard more popping noise from upstairs, and Ron’s voice calling out his name.

“Ron, down here!”

Tonks looked at Moody scathingly and said, “See, I told you we should just call Harry’s name instead of using stealth – you freaked him out! You wouldn’t listen!”

Moody looked dismissive, threw his face away from Tonks, and then stared down at Steve on the floor, who was staring back up to him with wide eyes.

“They could’ve been the enemy – doesn’t hurt to make sure.”

Tonks rolled her eyes and threw here hands in the air. Moody then added, “I’ve lived longer than any other Auror that way!”

Ron had gone down inside the lab, followed by Arthur Weasley, and he made a face upon seeing the mess all around him. He saw Harry on top of the long table and moved hurriedly toward him.

“You all right, mate?” said Ron. “Sorry about this - I told them I should’ve have gone first to keep things calm but Moody wouldn’t have none of it. Said there could be an ambush waiting back at the hotel and he disapparated along with Tonks!”

Harry glanced at Mad-Eye-Moody uncertainly. Because of his bad experience after the Triwizard Tournament last year, anybody who’d look like Moody could always be an impostor to him.

“Is that really…” Harry began.

“The real Mad-Eye-Moody, Harry,” said Arthur Weasley calmly, dropping to the lab floor from the broken stairs. He saw Steve next still sprawled between the wall and the floor then moved over to him apologetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry about causing this little fright, Mr. Wraskon. Our Auror, Mr. Moody, here was just being too cautious. Here, let me help you.”

Steve accepted Arthur’s extended hand and he stood upright on the floor, patting his robes clean of dust. “Nothing to it, sir,” he said shakily.

“And you must be Stephanie!” said Arthur. “Nice to see you’re allright.”

She stood still on one spot on the floor, still looking scared, and nodded her head quickly at Mr. Weasley.

“We’re here to rescue you, Mr. Wraskon. Ron told me that you have had a problem with Death Eaters who had you trapped in here. We’ll be taking you to my home where you’ll staying under guard for the night, though we need your cooperation and we’ll have to ask you some questions about this case. By tomorrow you’ll be safely flown back to Ireland. I’m sorry to have heard the news about Willard – I know the man quite well.”

Harry snapped his head at Arthur. He was surprised that he knew Willard like he said. He also knew which country Steve lived in. This made more questions than answers, and Harry needed to know more about Willard later, if he could have time talking with Mr. Weasley. Quite a small world, he thought.

Steve nodded gratefully at Arthur. “That’s so kind of you, sir…”

“Please call me Arthur,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry about being discovered by Death Eaters that you’ve gone, Mr.Wraskon. We’ll be applying some tricks in this hotel to make them think you’re still here. Your testimony will only be heard by our trusted Aurors, too. I presume that about covers all your concerns…”

“Steve. Steve’s the name, Arthur, thanks for your help. Thanks to Harry and Ron here, we wouldn’t have the chance to slip away without being noticed.”

Arthur looked at his son with pride, much to Ron’s visible relief. Arthur however, was stroking something inside his pocket. “Yes, they’re something, aren’t they? Well, we should get going now. It gets more dangerous each passing second we’re here. I suggest you pack everything you have now and let’s start popping out of here – besides, I think we’re all hungry!”

Moody was moving about the lab and looked around. “Was this how the lab looked like before Potter made a mess out of it?”

Harry threw Moody a derisive look.

“No, sir,” replied Steve. “Harry helped us clean it up…”

Moody stared at Steve and Harry. “You cleaned the scene? You cleaned out an un-inspected crime scene…” Moody shook his head; his magical eye spun speedily around and looked back behind his skull, leaving only the white of his eyeball, making Stephanie scream again. “Amateurs!” he mumbled under his breath.

“C’mon, Stephanie, let’s pack up our things upstairs,” Steve instructed his daughter looking apprehensively at Moody, and they left the lab. Tonks approached Harry smilingly and held out her hand to shake, which Harry readily accepted.

“Glad to meet you, Harry. I’m an Auror, too, like Moody. I’m part of Dumbledore’s Order.”

“Dumbledore’s Order?”

Tonks chuckled nervously – she had realized she said too much already in a single sentence. “Y-you’ll find about it soon anyway,” she recovered. “I heard Dumbledore wants to meet you very soon, something about your vacation…”

Harry didn’t say anything to answer Tonks, and he only nodded uneasily. Dumbledore had already found out. It didn’t make him feel good. He’ll have to face the music soon.

“Well, don’t you worry, Harry, we’re here to help keep your feet dry. See you later; I have to go and oversee security…” She walked away looking sour on the face past Moody, who watched her intently at the corner of his eyes.

“Very good, Tonks,” he hissed sarcastically. “What next, the Daily Prophet?”

Ron came again to Harry and helped him off the table.

“Sorry about taking long to come back with help, Harry. I had to wait for Dad to come home before I told him. He was furious at first we’d been away without his knowing, said it was completely dangerous and irresponsible, but after I explained to him what was happening and told him who was in trouble, he calmed down. Unfortunately, he confiscated your Portkey…”

Harry groaned. “Why?”

“He says it’s a misused Muggle artifact,” Ron shrugged. “He said he felt bound to take it away, even from us. Well, I admit it’s a bit dangerous especially if it falls to Muggle hands – imagine a Muggle lighting up a cigarette and then popping up on Mars…”

Harry laughed. Ron had a point, and he thought he probably didn’t need it anymore. Such was the power of the object to transport you to any place you wanted without having to worry about the Ministry of Magic breathing down you neck, he considered. He agreed it as a very dangerous object if it fell to both innocent and evil hands, but he still thought it was cool to have a go with it and go somewhere far away – like America.

Harry and company stayed at the hotel for half an hour more before they all agreed to pull out to the Burrow. Steve and Stephanie had already packed their belongings and were ready to go. Moody, with the help of Tonks and two other Aurors Harry didn’t know (but felt that Dumbledore and Arthur trusted), treated the hotel with various spells to conceal the departure of Steve and Stephanie.

One curious spell they did was the conjuring of ghost-like replicas of father and daughter to stand in for them. Moody explained to Harry (in a very warm manner this time unlike his earlier demeanor) that it was the counter-charm for the spell the Death Eaters have left to know at once if they had gone. He pointed out that it’s a charm restricted only for the use of Aurors, and that it was banned because it’s the favorite of people seeking to break out convicted relatives in Azkaban.

Harry and Ron didn’t have to use their own (already confiscated) Portkey because Arthur had already fashioned his own out of a tattered book. Moody and the rest of the Aurors would then follow soon by apparation.

“Gather round,” said Arthur and instructed Harry, Ron, Steve, and Stephanie to touch the book so that they’d be whisked off to the Burrow. Soon afterwards, they popped in at the sitting room in the Burrow. Molly graciously welcomed Steve and Stephanie to her humble home, while Ginny and the twins were preparing the table outdoors for dinner. They had fashioned an invisible tent to protect them from the cold weather and snowflakes when they would eat outside.

Stephanie was visibly delighted with many Weasley gadgets and wizard objects and carefully examined each without touching them.

“This place is very cool!” she said, making Ron smile. “I’ve never seen much wizard thingies in my life – I’ve been brought up as a Muggle by my parents, you know.”

Molly went busy cooking up a huge dinner for everybody while Steve was being interviewed by the Aurors Harry now knew as Sidney Nettleson and Martin Colby. He answered every question satisfactorily and there was nothing new for Harry to hear, but he listened on attentively anyway.

Later Arthur pulled Harry away quietly and started asking about what lighters did for Muggles – Harry explained that it is generally used to help start a fire, just like matches but without the trash. Arthur was so interested with the subject of lighters that he wanted to try restarting the already happily-crackling fire at the fireplace, but Harry told him that’s how actually to start this Portkey, much to his disappointment. What really Harry wanted to discuss with Arthur then was about how he had gotten to know Willard and what he really did aside from running his hotel. He had his chance to find out over supper at the lighted backyard (protected from the freezing weather), when Arthur divulged to Steve some other events similar to Willard’s case.

“It’s a pleasant surprise that my own son had met the man I’ve gotten to know since the 805th Magical Potions Bureau Annual Recognition Rites twelve years ago – he was a hit with the doctorate crowd. Willard was pretty good on discovering useful concoctions despite his incomplete education at Hogwarts, you know. I became really alarmed when Ron told me Willard Wraskon was missing. I immediately told Dumbledore about this and he got concerned, too. We kind of found it odd that some other known – and less known – chemists or potion masters were reportedly rounded up by Death Eaters in a span of two days!”

Everyone around the long picnic table except the Aurors looked at each other, finding the news peculiar.

“How many were they, Mr. Weasley?” asked Harry, his eyebrows furrowing.

It was Tonks who answered for Arthur. “There are about three high-profile disappearances. Well, there’s Franz Gerbeaux, Jill Jessop, and Rudy Roberts – all from London, and several lesser known but good potion inventors including Wraskon. Well, each of them has had well known and useful discoveries – that’s about the other connection we could think of, but nothing of which are deadly or destructive.”

“Thanks, Tonks. So I bet the Burrow they’re cooking up something else with their group of prisoners,” said Arthur darkly, “something new and possibly terrible, but the problem is we have no clue exactly what…”

“I remember some potion masters missing during You-Know-Who’s last reign,” said Steve thoughtfully, “and I think this is just a repeat of that. Well, whatever they were working on was never known and all of those missing then had never been found…” Steve stopped talking abruptly, and nervously glanced at his daughter who was sitting down beside him.

Harry saw Stephanie drop her fork, glared at her father and said, “Dad, please don’t talk like that…”

“Sorry, dear…”

“Unfortunately that’s true, Ms. Wraskon,” said Moody insensitively, making Stephanie look at him with teary eyes. “That’s history - you weren’t born then - and it’s repeating itself. You’re still young, but you can make a difference by doing something to help us fight against You-Know-Who. So stop brooding about the present and start thinking what you could do for the future – be proactive!” He slammed his palm on the table and Stephanie jumped. “It doesn’t help to sulk about while You-Know-Who’s got the upper hand…”

“That – that’s fine, for now, Moody,” said Molly calmly. Steve looked surprised at Moody’s behavior, but he just pursed his lips and rolled his eyes about. Apparently Moody had been also taken aback with himself, looked at everyone around the table, took a swig out of his personal flask, and calmed down. “Sorry about that, Wraskon…”

“I g-get your point, sir, thanks,” said Stephanie, who tried to look her bravest with tears yet falling down her cheeks. What Moody said and how he said it had an effect on Stephanie. Harry only hoped it wasn’t negative.

“One thing’s for sure,” said Arthur, motioning to Ginny to offer Stephanie something sweet to eat, “You-Know-Who has something up his sleeve and we won’t exactly know what until we could only see the dirt marks he’ll leave behind – but that’ll be too late then and we’d all be busy scrambling to minimize the damage.”

“Don’t you have any spies at all, Mr. Weasley?” said Harry hopefully, and Moody’s magical eye focused on him. “I know Death Eaters have blended in with the Ministry for ages.”

“Almost,” said Tonks. “We’re working on it, Harry. We don’t just tread dangerously on Death Eater territory. We have laws that limit what we could do and Death Eaters don’t…”

Arthur cleared his throat very loudly, as if he was really making sure Tonks had heard it. Moody’s face went red, and his Magical eye snapped from Harry to Tonks, who hid her face with both hands.

Arthur cleared his throat again. “We tried to connect the dots, sifted through all the clues and possibilities, and we’re still left facing a blank wall. Since the last murders days ago it’s been pretty quiet. I say these murders were just diversionary ploys to throw the Aurors off because they all happened at almost the same time the chemists have disappeared. Then again, they may be totally unrelated – it’s frustrating to say the least. A high-ranking Ministry official went missing, too, y’know. Daedalus Lowrie. Said he was going to visit a good friend and he never reported back for a week already. Not like him who was never absent from his job his whole career.”

“Daedelus…I’ve seen him before,” said Ron. “Back in You-Know-What! He was reporting to You-Know-Who.”

“That’s right - and probably murdered, too,” Arthur added. “Why, you ask. Well, let’s just say all the known Death Eaters are either in Azkaban, dead, or pretending to be working for our side. They never go missing. It’ll be a big surprise if he turns up working at the Ministry one day.”

“So what did Minister Fudge say about this, Mr. Weasley?” asked Harry.

“Lowrie’s just A.W.O.L., that old fart said,” Arthur said bitterly. “I’m sure he’s lying just to cover up any suspicion of Death Eater activity. He’s living in his own dreamland and the wizard world is already paying dearly for it!”

“Please, that’s enough talking about You-Know-Who for tonight,” said Molly nervously. “Let’s finish dinner and dessert and we could then go upstairs to relax. It’s been stressful; we might all go down with heart problems when we keep ourselves at it…”

Everyone around the group agreed with Molly and fell silent, now obviously preferring to think of other things besides bad news while they savored her excellent cooking.

Just then Hedwig arrived and dropped a letter to Harry, which surprised him. He then realized after all what had been happening to him lately he had completely forgotten about Russelpunk.

He fumbled with the envelope when he tried to see what was written on front of it. The letter was addressed to “Harry Potter, from Professor Rowel Russelpunk, G.W.D.” and that made him breathe a sigh of relief – if it were still the same letter he wrote to the professor, that would have been pretty scary. This new letter meant that he was alive and not dead like he saw him in his dream, which was not of the present but probably of the future. Hoping Russelpunk could hold out until they got back to Hogwarts, Harry then thought he needed to learn more who his teacher really was and why he’s in great possible danger with Voldemort like his dream had revealed.

“Late night delivery, Potter,” said Moody, his magical eye focused on the envelope. “From Peter Pan, I presume?”

“Peter Pan? What do you mean?”

“Russelpunk,” Moody chuckled. “Never grows up, does he, Arthur? Forever young, he is.”

“That’s Russelpunk,” said Arthur, pointing a concurring finger at Moody. “Can’t say goodbye to the child within, of course. It’s a good leap for his, er, late maturity being hired as DADA teacher, of course. Very interested with the Dark Arts…”

“He is?” said Harry.

“He’s dipped his nose deeply into the books about You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters - he knows just about everything known about them - that makes a good DADA teacher. Other than that, he’s a klutz - if it weren’t for Dumbledore’s desperation to fill the DADA post…”

Moody laughed very hoarsely. “Knowing him, he’d rather start his own dance troupe than a teaching job all his life. What’s his letter about, Potter?”

Harry was further irked by Moody’s intrusive attitude, but he read the letter anyway. “He’s just thanking me for suggesting good spells to teach during next class…”

Moody roared with laughter again. “That’s a real good DADA teacher, all right!”

“C’mon, Harry,” hissed Ron. He looked extremely annoyed. “Let’s get out of here before I poke his eye out.”

Harry and Ron excused themselves, stood up, and cleaned up their plates at the kitchen. Ginny and Stephanie followed afterwards, looking very satisfied with the dinner they ate. Stephanie had now regained herself and kept thanking Harry all night for his and Ron’s rescue, which made him feel real good about knowing that he had saved them out of a deadly situation. However the feeling was always dampened later on by the fact that they could do nothing for Willard at the present.

Harry knew that being a student would keep him from actively rescuing Willard before he was lost forever, and that was very, very maddening for him. He heard what Steve said about the missing who never came back. It appeared the only thing he could do was to hope for his safety and that he’d be rescued by real Aurors very soon. If only he was a full-fledged wizard right now, he angrily thought.

Everybody was now finished with dinner and it was almost time for bed. Steve and Stephanie would be escorted back to Heathrow airport for the next flight to Ireland by the next day, and Harry made it a point to say goodbye to them in the morning. He had grown attached to Willard’s brother and niece, and he agreed with Stephanie to send owls with her, much to her excitement. It was only natural that he had to keep in touch with her for they have bonded in less than a day because of the grief they shared for Willard. Add to that, he would always want to know how she was doing in a regular basis, sending news regarding what they had learned about the status of his good friend and her beloved uncle.

The sleeping arrangements at the Burrow tonight (due of the unexpected guests) were Harry and Ron to share their room with Steve, Stephanie to sleep in Ginny’s room with Tonks, and Moody and the two Aurors to stay in Percy’s empty room.

“Good night,” said Harry, Ron, and Steve to each other. Steve almost instantly fell asleep out of exhaustion while Ron opened another Chudley Cannon book to read, learning how to ignore Moody’s annoying tendencies to get in their room and search for anything that looks out of the ordinary. Harry, meanwhile, seemed to have started a new habit of secretly taking out Hermione’s picture and staring at it before going to sleep. After a couple of minutes of looking at her picture (and sighing after wishing she was around again), he replaced it under his mattress and began reflecting on other things.

For him it looked like new problems and concerns had been steadily mounting since the week they had returned from their encounter with Voldemort. First there were the murders, Hermione’s accident in class and her lingering (though temporary) condition, his unresolved case with Dumbledore, and the prospect of Death Eaters at Hogwarts after Christmas. Adding to that lately was his bad dream concerning Russelpunk, plus Willard’s kidnapping (which kept him worrying a lot about) and the other seemingly connected cases of disappearances for a purpose no one ever knew of.

Oh yeah, don’t forget about your new strange feelings with Hermione, said Harry to himself. Now that wasn’t a real problem, was it? It’s fairly manageable, I guess, and possibly a wonderful thing at the same time.

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to find out if there would be any more trouble in store for him and the people he knew in the near future. But knowing himself, such things were inevitable, like he was magnet for trouble with his very best of friends being dragged into it. It was all because of Voldemort – that cursed being who’s been merely a thorn at his side when the whole of the wizard world dreaded of his existence. It seemed to Harry Voldemort was born to make his life hell and was also keen on removing everyone who cared for him to make his life even more miserable.

Did he know about his relationship with Willard and was that why he was taken away? Possibly. But it could only have been a coincidence that he had met Willard at the same time Voldemort had learned of his usefulness and decided to take him away.

Harry began wishing he hadn’t known Willard at all because maybe he would just have been another statistic to him after all these disappearances, but then again, things might have been different today without his direct help. He could still be hiding from the law – he didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny Willard’s generosity and good advice had been a big factor that made him and Ron think properly on what to do next in a very confusing and difficult time of their lives. In the end, everything went just right and that was when he felt grateful again to have met the very kind fellow.

For Harry, Willard was the personification of angels walking about the earth, just waiting to lend a hand and making a difference with the lives of people needing help like him, and for that he felt very blessed. Harry sniffed and wiped the silent tears that fell from his eyes for Willard with his pillow until he became too tired to hold himself awake.

-o0o-

In the middle of the same night, three white-robed, hooded, and silver masked wizards silently appeared from thin air just outside the Burrow. They looked up at the uppermost window certain it was that room where their next target was soundly asleep. Handling a wand at one hand and with something glinting under the moonlight at the other, they moved in to begin their mission for the Dark Lord tonight.

-o0o-

Next Chapter: Death Eaters Attack!

8. Death Eaters Attack

DISCLAIMER: Please see Prologue Page.

A/N: A very late thanks to Becca Angelic and Muirnin for there reviews for Chapter 5. :-) The story continues…

***Chapter 7: Death Eaters Attack***

Everyone at the Burrow was deep in sleep, unaware that three hooded men had quietly entered the kitchen. They were light footed, as quiet as the night, and they moved ever so slowly deeper into the Weasley house as if they had all night to do what they came for. Stealthily they crept up the staircase, not making any creaking noise on the wooden floor past Arthur and Molly’s room, then past Percy’s where the Aurors were asleep, and rounded up the landing leading to the door of Ron’s room at the right.

One of the hooded men pointed towards the door, and the other two nodded. That was where their target was sleeping. Again, quietly, they got further up the stairs and opened Ron’s door, and saw Harry, Ron, and Steve asleep on their beds. Though they could not see their faces, they knew who to look for by the color of their hair. Moonlight flooded the room from the window; one of hooded men walked closer the beds, bypassing Steve’s and then stopping at Harry and Ron’s bedside to take a good look at them.

The hooded man at Ron’s bedside glanced back at his companions to confirm the identity of their primary target. They nodded in concurrence when he pointed to the redhead. Looking back down at Ron, he raised his hand holding something metallic glinting against the moonlight and got ready to do his job, but before he could do it…

BANG!

A deafening crack disturbed the serene night (accompanied by a bright flash of white light) that filled Ron’s room, throwing anyone off their feet who was standing on the floor. Harry, Ron, and Steve all woke up yelling in fright, startled and confused by the sudden surge of activity in the small room.

“Harry! What the bloody hell’s…” Ron shouted, as he rolled off to the floor from his bed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

Harry saw the masked Death Eaters in the middle of the room screaming as they held their bleeding ears and cleared their eyes from the bright spot that lingered in their vision, except for one who was already engaged with Mad-Eye-Moody in a scuffle.

Harry had no time to look for his wand and threw himself towards one of the trespassers and tackled him to the floor. Steve had raised his wand but was disarmed by the other Death Eater with the Disarmament spell sending him back flying towards Ron who had just regained his footing. Ron caught Steve’s full weight and he fell back along with him to the corner in pain (Steve was a large man to catch). They both gasped for lost breath.

Harry was now wrestling on top of the Death Eater he had picked to fight; as they struggled, he felt the hand of the Death Eater grasp his neck to choke him! At the same time another bright flash exploded around the room and Harry heard someone being thrown off to the wall. He didn’t see who it was but he hoped it wasn’t Moody. The hand tightened even more on Harry’s neck, suffocating him of air and draining him of strength; the Death Eater had pushed Harry off of himself, threw him aside, and left him to gasp for air on the floor.

“No! Keep away from me!” yelled Ron as he kicked his feet on thin air to stop the Death Eater advancing towards him without any opposition. Steve slid himself at the floor to shield Ron from the Death Eater, who looked determined to get to him. Steve frantically resisted all attempts by the Death Eater to reach Ron by deflecting advances by flailing his hands and kicking his own feet wildly.

Then they heard more running footsteps coming up the stairs. The Death Eaters looked back at the door to get ready for more incoming threat.

Just as soon as Tonks appeared at the doorway, she quickly dropped to the floor as a spell went past her head, destroying the wall behind her, revealing a screaming Ginny and Stephanie who were holding on to each other in terror from the other room. She quickly shot her own curse and it hit one of the Death Eaters, jacketing him in an electrical current that shook him in pain. The Auror Sydney Nettleson had then leaped on top of Tonks from behind and moved forward to attack.

Another set of footsteps came running up the stairs. Feeling that they were in danger of being overwhelmed, the Death Eaters whipped around, sprinted towards the open window, and threw themselves through it while spells and curses made by Tonks and Sydney overtook them harmlessly.

Harry lifted himself off the floor and ran to the window to see where they had landed, but when he did see the grounds below the Death Eaters seemed to have vanished – they had apparently disapparated in midair! Nettleson and Colby doubled back towards the door and ran down the stairs, hoping to see if they could still catch the Death Eaters around the grounds.

“Ron, are you all right?” called Harry.

Ron emerged from under his bed stood slowly upright with Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay - what was that all about?” Ron said, shaken.

“I have no idea,” Harry said absently. He now saw Tonks kneeling down beside the body of Moody, feeling for his pulse. Harry ran and dropped to one knee opposite Tonks and anxiously said, “Is he dead?”

Arthur and the twins alighted at the doorway and checked if everyone was okay, wands in hand.

“He’s okay - stunned, fortunately,” replied Tonks. “What the hell happened here? How did those Death Eaters come in here?”

“I don’t know, but we were awakened by a big bang and the next thing we knew they were all over us!”

“You okay, Ron? Harry?” said Arthur anxiously. He looked around with a very serious look on his face. “Things are getting hot - I got to speak to Dumbledore. Nobody goes to sleep tonight when nobody’s awake!” He got out of the room and went down the stairs. Molly ran up and hugged Ron very tightly and fixed everything on him that looked messy. Steve Wraskon on the other hand, just sighed in relief upon seeing his daughter unscathed at the corridor.

Soon, Moody stirred and woke up after Tonks had muttered “Enervate!” Harry helped him to sit upright and Moody shook his head to fight off his grogginess. “Anyone got hurt?” Moody blearily said.

“Moody, what happened?” said Tonks, ignoring his question.

Moody saw everyone in the room looking at him intently, eager to know what really happened when they were all asleep. Moody felt there was no point in not telling them, so he talked straightly to the point.

“I couldn’t go to sleep with everyone snoring,” he replied shortly. “We were all open for attack! I told you so! I was moving about every room to see everyone’s all right and I decided to sit around longer in Ronald’s room. Fortunately I did because then they came…

“Three Death Eaters had come upstairs undetected – they didn’t know I was behind the door. I watched them deep in the shadows, waited for the right moment to attack when I was sure how many they really were. I counted three, nothing more - they went over to Ron Weasley and he looked like he was moving in for the kill, so I pounced. That woke everybody up.”

Harry and Ron thought earlier that Moody was a paranoid freak and they were very annoyed each time he looked around their room for signs of “disturbances” they thought were only a figment of his imagination. But after being through that fully unexpected encounter, they now admitted he was right about being wary especially during these days of living dangerously when Voldemort has returned. If it weren’t for Moody’s constant vigilance, they didn’t know what would have happened to them now. One thing they learned, though, is that complacency could cost them their life.

Harry thanked Mad-Eye-Moody for protecting him and Ron, and after he did so, he saw a huge smile budding out of Moody’s ridgy face. “I’m bound to protect whoever’s in danger from the Dark Wizards,” Moody said, “but you’re welcome, Potter.”

“The Death Eaters looked like they were gunning for Ron, not me,” observed Harry. “Why?”

Moody grunted when he thought it was strange. “He was their target to kill, not you, I wager. I find that odd, they could have scored big with You-Know-Who if they got you, Harry.”

“Kill me?” said Ron, horrified. “Why’d they want to kill me? I’m just nobody…”

“You-Know-Who probably knows about you, Ron,” Tonks replied. “He saw you before, didn’t he? In You-Know-What, right?”

Ron nodded.

“I think he’s sending his Death Eaters to kill people who’re very close to his enemies,” said Moody darkly. “Yes, that’s what he kept doing the last time, to break them. I have the feeling we’re not the only ones who’s been attacked tonight. We’ll know about it later after Arthur talks to some people.”

People who’re close to his enemies, Harry thought. Ron was one. Then he went pale.

Hermione.

Harry didn’t say anything and suddenly ran out of the room. Ron had seen him and ran after him from behind. He had caught up with Harry at the middle of the stairs and held him by the arm rather forcefully, causing Harry to look back at him. The look in Harry’s face somehow terrified Ron.

“Harry, where’re you going?”

“Ron, I just remembered Hermione!” he said urgently. “Moody thinks we’re not the only ones attacked tonight - she might be in trouble right now, too! We got to get to her!”

Ron’s eyes literally bugged out of their sockets upon realizing that. “Then how could we know or warn her at once?” he said, starting to panic. “Hedwig’s too slow – Pig’s too slow… ”

“I was thinking of stealing back the Portkey from your Dad…”

“That’s easy, Harry, but have you ever been at the Grangers before?”

Harry blew off a lot of air. He knew what Ron meant. If he did manage to get the Portkey, he still couldn’t use it to go to Hermione because he had never been at the Granger household in his life, thus he had no point of reference for the Portkey to work.

“No, I haven’t,” he admitted in despair. “Ron, please help me think!”

“We’ll go to Dad for help – let’s go!”

They ran down the stairs again towards the place they knew where Mr. Weasley probably was – the fireplace. They found him there, down on all fours, talking to the ghostly head of Dumbledore hanging over the green flames via floo powder. Harry and Ron kept their distance from Mr. Weasley to listen in to their conversation.

“The attacks are getting frequent again tonight, Arthur,” said Dumbledore in a very cool manner. “As of the last hour, we’ve received reports of over ten separate Death Eater attacks all over Britain, not including yours. There could be more, and we’re still waiting for other reports to come in. An entire Muggle family has been found dead in Bristol. I never expected that the Burrow would be chosen for attack tonight. I’m so sorry, I should have at least warned you at once when the reports were coming in…”

“That’s okay, Albus, it doesn’t matter now,” Arthur said calmly. “We’re just thankful nothing really terrible happened to us here, well, except for the big hole at Ginny’s room…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Arthur, You must make plans to evacuate the Burrow to Grimmauld as soon as possible. I’ll have Sirius get the house ready for all of you. There’s something else you need to do that’s urgent. Here’s a…”

“Sirius?” said Harry aloud and a little late in coming after hearing his godfather’s name. Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore had heard him. Ron looked at Harry furiously, who had covered his mouth with his own hand.

“Harry, come over here where I could see you better,” said Dumbledore calmly. Harry reluctantly obeyed, walked over to the fireplace, and bent down in front of it.

“Professor, I’m very sorry for…” he began, but Dumbledore gently raised his hand to stop him from talking further.

“We will talk about that later, Harry. But first I need to know if you’re all right.”

“Yes sir, I am but…”

“How about Ronald?”

“He’s okay, sir. From what I’ve observed the Death Eaters may have come for him, not me, from the way they attacked…good thing Moody was alert tonight. ”

Dumbledore simply nodded again. “Wait a moment whilst I send something over to your side by floo…”

“Sir, I need to warn…” Harry began again, but stopped talking when a purple night cap (possibly what Dumbledore might have been wearing tonight while sleeping) popped out from the fireplace and landed on to the floor. Harry picked it up, not knowing what it was for.

Dumbledore suddenly said, “Don’t touch!”

Startled, Harry dropped the night cap back on the floor again. “Sir, what’s this for? I’m quite warm tonight, thank you, but there’s something…”

“That’s a Portkey, Harry,” interrupted Dumbledore. “Arthur, I need you to send somebody over to Miss Granger’s house to see if she and her parents are all right. She should be warned of what’s been happening tonight. From there, I trust you know what to do. Do it quickly! Time is of the essence!”

Harry held his breath in pleasant surprise at Dumbledore for his thoughtfulness and concern to help Hermione, which was actually the thing he tried to ask him for. Before Harry could thank him, though, Dumbledore’s head disappeared with a pop.

“Mr. Weasley…” Harry started as they both stood up.

“No, not you, Harry,” he said, and Harry dropped his shoulders in disappointment. “You’re virtually defenseless along with Hermione if you get attacked there. I know just the right people…Fred! George!”

Fred and George came running down the stairs to Mr. Weasley’s front.

“Fred, George, use that Portkey on the floor to go to Hermione. If nothing has happened yet to her yet, wake her up and instruct her to communicate with me immediately via floo powder. Don’t worry. Her fireplace has been secretly registered by Dumbledore to the floo network since her first year. If you’re too late, don’t stay there a second too long and get back here at once! Here’s some floo…”

Arthur grabbed a handful of floo powder from their storage can above the fireplace, put it in a wooden jar, and gave it to Fred. “I’ll tell you what to do next when we’re connected. Whatever happens, do not use the floo powder to get back here. Is that clear?” Fred and George nodded. They were uncharacteristically looking very serious tonight.

“Good. Go.”

Fred and George both touched the nightcap and soon they both vanished. Harry began to get increasingly anxious and paced around the living room, snatching glances at the fireplace to see if they already got connected with the Granger’s fireplace. He silently prayed that Hermione was unharmed. If what Moody said about Voldemort killing close friends and relatives of his enemies was correct, there was a big possibility that Hermione could be in extreme danger.

As more time past without any floo signal coming from the Grangers, Harry was now getting horrible thoughts that the twins may have arrived too late, discovering Hermione sprawled dead in her house, and that Fred and George may be debating at the moment on what approach to take to break out the news to them. Now if that happened, he would be very devastated and he might as well go crazy. There was also the possibility that the twins have been ambushed and killed just after they popped in at the Grangers. He literally counted the seconds in agony. A few more minutes have passed and there was still no sign of them yet.

“Harry, calm down, please!” Ron said severely. He was sitting at the edge of his chair, rubbing his palms on his knees in worried anticipation. “You’re making me even more nervous if you keep pacing around like that!”

“What’s taking them so long?” Harry whined.

Nobody knew the answer. Worrying alongside Harry, they chose not to talk.

Nettleson and Colby came inside the house from the yard with looks of defeat on their faces. “They’ve slipped away, those Death Eaters…damn!” said Colby. “No sign of them anywhere.”

“You’ve seen them disapparate in midair, haven’t you, Potter?” asked Nettleson. Harry just nodded impatiently, even though he just thought they did.

“Please stand down and have a cup of tea with Colby in the kitchen, Syd,” said Arthur with regret. “It’s not your fault…but thanks.”

Just then, the fireplace came to life and Harry jumped over the couch to crouch in front of the fire, hoping to see Hermione at the other end. Fortunately it was her, to Harry’s immense relief.

“Harry!” she said breathlessly. “I heard what happened! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“We’re all fine, Hermione,” he said quickly. “Are you okay? Did anyone come in trespassing at your house tonight?”

Hermione shook her head. “Nobody attacked us tonight, Harry! Nothing’s happened at all. We’re all right…”

“Thank goodness!!!” Harry breathed out. Arthur squeezed Harry at his shoulder feeling greatly relieved, too.

“Hermione, why did you take long to floo us? I was worried to death about you,” said Harry.

“Sorry, about that,” said Hermione, smiling at first at what Harry had said about worrying to death for her, and then looking embarrassed about something. “But it’s just that…it’s just…” she hesitated and looked behind her, and Harry jumped upon seeing a moaning Fred sitting at the couch being nursed by George with an ice bag on his head. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were in robes, looking down at them from behind, looking amused.

“What in the world happened to him?” said Arthur in complete surprise.

Hermione looked back at Harry and Arthur and explained, “Well, you know, it’s the dead of the night and I felt someone creeping in my room. I thought he was a stalker and I pounded his head with my First grade cricket bat like there was no tomorrow…” Hermione shrugged. “It turned out to be just Fred. I had to make sure he was all right before I’d contact you. Sorry…”

Fred muttered bitterly from the background. After all the bad things that were happening, Harry had finally gotten the urge to laugh. Hermione winced as she stretched her right arm.

“Hermione, what’s the matter?” Harry said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I think I overstretched a muscle when I swung the bat. It hurts a little. It’s nothing…”

“Hermione,” Arthur said, “do your parents mind if I talked to them for a while?”

After Mr. and Mrs. Granger positioned themselves in front of their fireplace, Arthur explained to them what the real situation was in the wizard world and asked their permission to evacuate Hermione with Harry and the Weasley’s to a safe place until the situation calmed down significantly. At first they were shocked to learn about the tumultuous state of affairs in their daughter’s alternate world, but they eventually agreed in the end when they realized it was for her and their own good. They were sad to let her go but they trusted what Arthur told them.

“How about my parents, Mr. Weasley?” asked Hermione, fearing that her parents were really open for attack because they were Muggles and that they were alone without a witch around to defend them.

“They’ll actually be much safer when you’re away, Hermione,” assured Arthur. “Death Eaters don’t keep a good record of the names of young witches and their parents, but they do attack when they detect Muggle-borns when they’re in the neighborhood. You can go back to them when we feel the present danger has passed, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I suppose,” said Hermione uncertainly and looked at her parents, who smiled back at her. “Okay…”

“You have to get moving now, I’m afraid,” Arthur said. “Death Eaters may come in there unexpectedly any moment. Gather up all your things, including all your school stuff and use the Portkey back to the Burrow with Fred and George – use the Portkey, never floo in! As fast as you can, understand?”

Hermione nodded. “I understand, thank you. I’ll have to talk to my parents for a bit, though…”

“That’s fine, but please don’t take as long as necessary. Fred, George, come back to the Burrow as soon as possible. Don’t keep your guard down over there.” Fred and George murmured in the affirmative. “We won’t rest until your safe arrival here.”

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Weasley. See you all soon…” Hermione said, and her head disappeared over the flames.

Harry breathed another sigh of relief, sank back to the couch, and smiled broadly. Though he wouldn’t be happy until he’d be with Hermione at the Burrow, he felt great seeing her unharmed over the floo network. He then thought about the other Death Eater attacks over Britain tonight.

It looked like that Voldemort’s Death Eaters were really getting on an early rampage these days - sowing terror to the whole wizard world as if there was no tomorrow. Perhaps this was how it felt during Voldemort’s last reign of terror before Harry was born. He believed this was just the tip of the iceberg of more terrible things to come. He shuddered at the thought.

Arthur then threw another pinch of floo at the fireplace, and Dumbledore’s head came back over the flames.

“How is she, Arthur?” he asked instantly.

“Hermione Granger’s okay, Albus. She said there was no attack at her place. They’ll be taking the Portkey back to the Burrow real soon.”

“That’s good news,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile. “I just got word that a pack of black dogs the size of bulls had attacked a Muggle resort hotel at Longsley. Several Muggles are missing and scores were hurt. I am not aware of any species of those animals ever existed before, and I suspect the hand of Lord Voldemort in that attack.”

“Could they have been Hybrids?” said Arthur, horror-struck. “He’s getting real aggressive, isn’t he?”

Harry meanwhile, swore he had heard large dogs barking when he was at Xanthius. Could they have been those who made those barking noises?

“It could be a test attack or just a diversion to throw us off with his real intentions, I don’t know,” sighed Dumbledore, “but to me his new approach seems to be to hit us harder and not to care about the Statute of Secrecy anymore. It would work well for him, too, instead of being secretive and limited in action. The Ministry of Magic’s resources are spread too thin – they’re on a frenzy covering up that little incident in Longsley with all the wizards they could spare to subject every Muggle with memory charms.”

“And after firing off the good Aurors…” Arthur shook his head. “Why can’t Fudge see the glaring signs at all?”

“I don’t believe he couldn’t see it, Arthur. He thinks he could keep the true state of affairs from the general public forever. We’ll discuss the situation further later in the morning. When can we expect you to come in here at our place?”

Arthur asked to Ron quietly to see if Steve and Stephanie Wraskon were around within earshot. When Ron told him they were still upstairs, Arthur said, “As we can’t floo in there, we’ll have to wait for sunrise and take the normal transport. I’ll have Nettleson and Colby bring the Wraskons to Heathrow, while Moody, Tonks, and I will bring everyone to Grimmauld.”

“Very well, I’ll see you all in the morning. Be careful, Arthur.” Dumbledore then vanished. Arthur stood up, arching his aching back.

“Hybrid?” said Ron. “What’re hybrids, Dad?”

“In simpler terms, Ron, monsters,” said Arthur plainly. He patted Ron on his shoulder, and walked off to the kitchen tiredly to join Nettleson and Colby.

“I heard dogs barking back in Xanthius,” Harry told Ron quietly as soon as Arthur was in the kitchen. “Big dogs.”

“You, too? I thought I was hearing things back there then. D’you think they’re the same ones that attacked the Muggles?”

“Well, if Dumbledore says they looked like the size of bulls, then I guess they were.”

Ron whistled. Harry, meanwhile, sat down on the couch to wait for Hermione to come while Ron decided to go to the kitchen to drink a few glasses of water. Harry didn’t feel like calming down until he’d see Hermione all right in the Burrow. He walked over to the nearest window and let out a deep exhalation of air from his lungs.

It has been a wild weekend for everyone, he thought. It was only now he noticed that it’s been only less than two days and he had at least three stressful encounters already. Two turned out to be false alarms, and the most recent one was the most serious and potentially the deadliest. It was lucky that Moody was in alert mode tonight, or else he didn’t know what might have been the outcome of the Death Eaters’ unexpected visit. It was possible that he would have had one less best friend today.

Why did the Death Eaters seem to have been bent on hurting or killing Ron while Harry was also there? Moody had a point – he could have been chosen to be killed instead of Ron. Voldemort would surely be glad his Death Eaters had already gotten rid of him.

It was dark and you were wrestling – surely they couldn’t have recognized you from all the commotion, Harry heard himself say.

Nevertheless, Ron may be a real target now, he thought, because Voldemort might be trying take away everything that made him happy as a new strategy. Voldemort had seen him in Xanthius; Hermione wasn’t there so that’s probably the reason why she wasn’t attacked at all – or maybe yet. Harry didn’t find it impossible for Voldemort to learn who his dearest friends were. He had many spies going around freely and covertly – Lucius Malfoy was one and was probably Voldemort’s best source of information.

Harry sighed and shook his head. One thing was for certain - it was getting more and more dangerous each day for him and his best friends, he sensed. Voldemort may not be gunning for him only, but probably Ron and Hermione now as well. He’d have to talk about it with his friends real soon – to warn them.

After a good five minutes of more pondering, Harry heard a whooshing sound from behind him and he whipped around. Hermione had now arrived with the twins, and she looked doggedly tired (in addition to the heavy bags of books she brought along with her).

“Hermione! I’m very glad you’re here!” Harry said happily and ran up to her. He then hugged her tightly – Hermione was caught in pleasant surprise with Harry’s unusual show of affection to her. She was enjoying Harry’s hug while it lasted, closing her eyes affectionately as she embraced him back

Harry had almost tried to kiss her; midway he had sensed that he had overdone his welcome greeting; he swallowed hard and withdrew quickly from Hermione, looking scared. As they stood a couple of feet apart facing each other, they stared at each other not knowing what to say.

“Er, thanks, Harry, that was a – er – very nice welcome,” she said, her voice shaking.

But now Harry couldn’t look straight at Hermione at all. He suddenly felt ashamed of what he had done. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “I…”

“Harry, it’s…” Hermione began, but the deluge of Weasleys caving in to greet her drowned out what she wanted to say. Everybody embraced her warmly (including Ron, who didn’t feel awkward hugging her at all).

“Hermione, I want you to meet my new friend!” said Ginny excitedly. Ginny grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her towards the stairs. Harry had sunk himself intently behind the backs of the Weasleys and he didn’t get to see Hermione turning her head around for him as she was dragged upstairs.

-o0o-

Harry had returned to Ron’s room all by himself quietly, making sure he wouldn’t bump into Hermione tonight. Earlier he had passed by Ginny’s room, whose door was just across Ron’s, and he heard Hermione, Ginny, and Stephanie talking animatedly inside. The hole made by the Death Eater’s spell was already magically repaired (probably by Fred or George), and it suited Harry fine because he could slip in Ron’s room without being seen.

Minutes ago he would’ve done anything to see Hermione alive and well. Two days before he wished she was going to spend her Christmas with them, but now he didn’t seem to want to anymore. It was surprising to him as it was crazy.

Harry couldn’t understand it at all but he felt he didn’t want to meet Hermione again at least for the short term, though he knew one of the reasons was that he was afraid of what Hermione might say to him for hugging her very tightly without her permission.

Now he asked himself - when did he ever ask for permission to hug someone? Surely they had done this before several times but they didn’t mean anything – they were just good friends. Of course, they were still great friends, but now it felt all so different – he couldn’t explain why. He couldn’t remember how Hermione reacted then, but he could have sworn she had glared at him. Did she or didn’t she? To cap it all, he never felt ashamed to her before in his whole life.

Harry felt a few footsteps coming from the corridor. He hurriedly laid on his bed chest down and looked away from the door, pretending to be asleep. A couple of people were whispering – the voices were Ron and Hermione’s and he could make out what they were saying.

“Ron, where’s Harry?”

Harry heard the door creak open slowly and Ron said “Ah, there he is – probably fallen asleep already. We’ve had a very wild day today you know…”

“Well, okay, good night then…”

“Sure…”

Harry closed his eyes tightly. She was looking for him. He could have just turned around and told her he was still awake and they could talk, but something deep inside him told him not to. He didn’t realize it, but he was actually acting very silly. There was nothing wrong about the hug – it was all in his mind, but a big part of him wanted him to think that the hug wrecked it all, and that it would take Hermione to treat him like a baby to soothe him, to tell him – in a nice long conversation, alone - that it was all right and nothing wrong, and maybe they could kiss then to make it all up…

Aaarggghhh!

“Harry???” said Ron nervously, springing off his bed.

Harry paused. He quickly mumbled a few unrecognizable words to act as if he was just dreaming, and it worked. Fortunately. Ron got back to his bed shortly and snored instantly.

Harry began to hate himself again. It was his sudden desire with Hermione could actually wreck a five-year-old friendship between him, her, and Ron. Try as he might not to, Hermione kept flashing in his mind.

She looked beautiful at the Yule Ball last year, etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera! It was driving him mad.

Forget about it, Harry. Get your act together, dungbrain! Tomorrow, maybe it will just go away. If I could act like it’s nothing, it will just go away. Yeah…

He didn’t remember it, but the last face he saw in his mind before he finally sunk to dreamland was still Hermione’s.

-o0o-

Two hours later, Harry woke up with the sound of screaming.

“Wha – wha – wha’s happening?” he said sleepily. He felt very tired – he didn’t have more than a couple of hours straight sleep tonight. Harry quickly sat upright on his bed after his senses became keener, and dreaded it was another Death Eater attack. He hurriedly groped for his glasses and saw that Ron’s bed was empty. It was still dark outside. There was another short scream, and it came out from the girls’ room, and it sounded like it was Hermione.

Harry leaped towards the door with his wand in hand, crossed the narrow corridor, and stopped at the girls’ room doorway where the screams seem to have been coming from.

Ron had just noticed Harry had alighted at the door and he said, “It’s just Hermione having a bad dream.”

Harry nodded feeling slightly relieved, and watched Ginny sit down by Hermione’s head, hugging her softly and patting her face gently to calm her down. Hermione was still deep in sleep, but it looked like she was crying minus the tears.

“She seems to be getting down with a bad fever,” said Ginny apprehensively, feeling Hermione’s burning forehead. “She was very healthy a few hours before…”

Harry found that really odd, too. Tonks, meanwhile, was on the mattress on the floor asleep and absolutely unaware of what was happening around her.

“I’ll get a pan of water downstairs and mix up a potion,” Stephanie volunteered, and she went out of the room carrying her potion kit downstairs with her.

Harry breathed deeply as Stephanie passed by him, wishing he was the one who was holding Hermione instead of Ginny, but he later thought that girls have much better abilities to take care of their own. Later Ron placed a hand behind his back, telling him that they can’t do anything at the moment and it was best to leave the room. Harry pursed his lips and turned reluctantly around for the door.

Hermione then spoke. “Harry! Harry! Please don’t’ listen – please don’t listen…”

“What?” said Harry, and he turned back to face Hermione and Ginny’s direction. “Hermione what’re you…”

Ginny smiled slightly. “She’s just talking in her sleep, Harry,” she said, running her fingers through Hermione’s hair.

“Oh,” Harry nodded. He tightened his lips again. “Okay…”

“Please don’t – please don’t…”

Whatever Hermione was dreaming it was probably nothing, he thought. Like Ginny said, she was getting a bad fever, and she was probably getting slightly delirious in her sleep. Sleeping with a high fever did cause strange dreams. Still, Harry didn’t feel anything else but deep concern for Hermione.

“Wake me if it gets worse, Ginny?” he said slowly.

Ginny smiled again and nodded. “Don’t worry about it, Harry, I’ll take care of her. God forbid, if it ever gets even worse I’ll surely wake you up.”

Harry thanked Ginny and he halfheartedly returned to Ron’s room. Stephanie was back with a pan of water, some washcloth, and few vials of potion with Colby the Auror following behind her.

Harry said a soft “Thanks,” and Stephanie simply smiled at him placing the pan beside Hermione’s night stand.

Hermione was still mouthing the words she had kept saying in her dream. Her face looked distressed, but she was much calmer this time. The last activity Harry saw inside before he walked off was Ginny drenching the wash cloth and wiping Hermione’s face with it.

“The accident – confusion – now this,” murmured Ron sadly as he walked with Harry back to his room.

Looks like she has had a terrible beating lately, Harry thought.

Again.

-o0o-

Arthur and Molly shook everyone awake in the Burrow at seven. Breakfast was ready and they all had to be leaving very soon. Steve and Stephanie would be escorted to Heathrow for their flight back to Ireland by Nettleson and Colby. The rest would go the other direction to a place called Grimmauld. Harry had no idea where Grimmauld was but he thought he was sure Sirius Black was there – Dumbledore had mentioned it so. He looked forward to meet his godfather after months of not seeing him.

Harry and Ron had packed up their things already. They were told to bring everything they had for school because they were not expected to get back to the Burrow before they left for Hogwarts. With their luggage stowed in the middle of the sitting room, everyone was eating breakfast at the table except for Ginny and Hermione. Molly had brought their breakfast upstairs where they would eat them.

“Looks like Hermione has had a tough night,” sighed Molly, as she come back from upstairs. “Poor girl, her fever’s still not going down.”

“Can she make the trip with us?” asked Arthur, dipping his bread on his double eggs.

“Yes, she insisted that she’d be going despite her state.”

After breakfast, Steve and Stephanie said their goodbyes and profuse thank you’s to everyone, especially Harry, for helping them out of their predicament.

“Thanks for helping us,” Stephanie told Harry and Ron, smiling. “I hate to go when your best friend is still sick – I tried everything what I knew with healing, but I don’t know what Hermione has. Well, I’m still in my third year so I probably still have a lot to learn yet…but here’s a healing potion that always works with just about everything…” She gave a big bottle of red liquid to Harry.

“Thanks for taking care of her last night, too, Stephanie,” said Harry, accepting the potion. “We’ll take it here from now on. You and Steve stay safe, will you?”

“Goodbye for now, Harry,” Steve said. “Willard didn’t err in choosing his friends – we’ll be forever grateful for what you done for us.” He offered Harry and Ron a handshake and they both took it.

Stephanie gave Ron a warm hug, then Harry an extra peck of thanks on his cheek. After promising that they would write to each other about what they knew about Willard, Harry waved Steve and Stephanie goodbye until the black cab they had called whisked them off.

Harry turned his gaze away from the front yard and saw Hermione already standing at the living room being helped around by Ginny. Harry didn’t know how long they were standing there and how to react then – Hermione looked very miserable. Her cheeks were very pale and her bushy hair looked messy. It seemed that the mere activity of standing up straight required so much effort on her part, even if Ginny was supporting her.

Harry thought of going over to help Hermione, but the look on her face made him hesitate. Hermione didn’t look happy at all, and she seemed to have been avoiding gazing towards Harry, though she smiled when she talked with Arthur and Molly.

Harry felt his heart slightly sink. Even though he’d been prepared for it, Hermione might have been really angry with him about the hug yesterday – her face showed it. Harry didn’t dare to ask her how she was feeling. Her fever might get worse when she went livid over him, and he chose to turn away slowly from her, acting as if he was busy fumbling with his luggage. But deep inside, he was deeply troubled about it. He was bursting to apologize to her, but he thought there was a time for that and this was not it.

Their mode of transportation today was the Knight Bus. Soon after it popped carelessly in front of the Burrow to take them to Grimmauld, everyone boarded the vehicle. Stan Shunpike, the conductor, shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically and showed them to their seats. Harry had the strong urge to try out the top deck, not because he was curious of how it would feel riding the Knight Bus at a height, but because he felt like retreating to a place he would likely be alone. His feeling of sadness and regret with how he treated Hermione yesterday kept him away from the others.

As the Knight Bus recklessly sped along the Muggle roads, Ron fought dizziness and nausea to get up the spiral stairs and sit beside Harry, who looked sulky.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” said Ron concernedly beside Harry, who was looking straightly ahead, resting his chin on his arms on top of the seat in front of him. “I’ve been looking at you all morning and you seem to moping all the time.”

“How’s Hermione?” Harry simply asked, still looking ahead as the bus swayed madly in motion.

Ron frowned. “She doesn’t look good. I hope it’s not a bug that’s going around. She hadn’t been talking too much lately – I’m kind of afraid she might get worse if I asked her a lot of questions so I’m leaving her alone for a while with Ginny.”

“You, too?” Harry said, facing Ron.

“Me, too, what?”

“Well, you know, feeling not talking to her.”

“Yeah, that’s right, until she gets better, at least. She looks real scary with those dark rings around her eyes…” But Ron looked away very uneasily.

Harry looked straight ahead again, seeing the Knight Bus wiggle its way out of a tight traffic jam. He felt slightly – just slightly - better knowing that he wasn’t alone feeling alienated towards Hermione but Ron, too. But he knew that wasn’t good, too. Still, he knew she looked angry at him. Maybe it was her condition that made her grumpy, he didn’t know, but he’d still try to be careful about opening up the subject about the hug. The damn hug.

Arthur emerged at the stairs from below, looking green as he handed Harry a piece of parchment.

“Read – ulp – orally. Quickly…” he said, feeling very nauseous and holding the stainless steel rail by the arms to keep himself upright. Harry took the parchment, bewildered, but he did what Arthur told him to do. From what was written on the piece of parchment he read aloud:

“The headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.”*

Arthur nodded and gestured Harry to give the parchment to Ron, too. Ron read it, not knowing what it was for also, and handed it back to his dad. Arthur didn’t say anything else and staggered back to the first level.

“What was that for?” said Ron. Harry just shrugged, seemingly amused at the look of Arthur’s face. However, Harry had remembered something Hermione had mentioned about an Order that stood against Voldemort. He pointed this out to Ron, who then made the connection.

“I’ve got the feeling this is the secret Order, all right,” said Ron. “I can’t wait to find out! I’d join it in a heartbeat if they’ll ask me.”

A few more minutes later they had stopped at a small housing compound with identical looking houses. Harry and Ron started down the stairs to disembark, but Fred stopped them.

“We’ll have to wait for our turn,” Fred told them. “Moody says we go in the house one by one. I don’t know what’s the point of it, though.”

Harry looked out the window and saw a single panel door with nothing behind it standing between two houses. Hermione and Ginny had gone in, followed by Molly, Fred, and George separately a little later. It was Harry and Ron’s turn and Moody told them to hurry because they might be seen.

Dragging their heavy chests and cages with there owls in it, Harry and Ron went through the door speedily. Soon they were in a very old and dingy house that looked like it was owned by the darkest of wizards. Its carpets were filled of molds. At the surface, it looked way less comfortable to live here. Harry and Ron had the bad feeling they would spend the rest of their holidays tidying up the place.

Moody, Arthur, and Tonks were the last to get in.

“We’re safe, nobody saw us get in,” said Moody confidently. Then they walked deeper to the sitting room.

Harry didn’t see Hermione anywhere now and he thought she had gone straight up to the room she would be sleeping in to get some rest. He wasn’t sure when he would have the courage to see her. He instantly forgot about that little problem when Sirius emerged from the dining room to meet his grandson with open arms. He looked clean and well-shaven.

Sirius and Harry smiled broadly and they both hugged. “It’s so nice to see you again, Harry!” Sirius said jovially. “I’ve been looking forward for this when I heard you’d be coming!” He made a mess out of Harry’s already messy hair, which was fine for him.

“What’s this place, Sirius?” asked Harry.

“This is my parents’ old house. It’s not much, but I’ve inherited this place and Dumbledore thinks it’s the safest place for the Order to hold their meetings without being caught by Voldemort or the Ministry of Magic. I honestly don’t want it, but you know…”

“Yours? Cool! Now that I know it’s yours, it doesn’t look bad after all!” Harry looked around excitedly, hoping that Sirius might offer him to stay here instead of going back to the Dursleys every summer.

Sirius smiled. “But you know, it still needs some more work to make it livable. My mother hadn’t been telling our house elf to clean it for ages…”

“You’re mum is here? She’s still alive?”

“Yeah,” Sirius spoke on an undertone, pointing at a wall covered by velvet curtains, “but as an annoyingly noisy big portrait, you won’t like her when you see her!”

Just as Sirius said that, Tonks conveniently tripped over a hearth rug and fell over loudly to start a demonstration. Harry understood what Sirius had meant about noisy big portraits, but he thought that was the understatement of the century.

“WHAT VILE FREAKS, MUTANTS, AND MUDBLOODS DARE TO TRESPASS THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS…”

“TONKS!” screamed Molly, and she ran over to the portrait and struggled to close the portrait curtains. It took a while to shut Sirius’ mother up; the ringing noise lingered in Harry’s ears for ages. Shaking off the sound off them with his fingers, Harry was then led by Sirius towards the library.

“Sirius, what’s the Order of the Pheonix I’ve read about in a piece of parchment?”

“That, Harry, was Dumbledore’s group which was formed to fight against Voldemort a couple of decades ago. It’s been reactivated again now that he’s back, and we’re part of it.”

“That’s great,” said Harry, looking impressed. “Then Dumbledore’s the leader?”

Sirius and Harry had gotten in the Library and Harry was surprised to see Albus Dumbledore was there reading a map of some sort while sitting on a comfortable armchair.

“Dumbledore,” said Sirius. “Harry’s here.”

Dumbledore looked up at Harry looking very serious and said, “Hello, Harry. Nice to see you’re all right. Sit down, please. We need to talk about your recent behavior at Hogwarts – in private.”

Next Chapter coming soon…

------

*Page 58, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Inc.

9. Duo or Trio

A/N: Sorry for the long pause in updates. Lots of things happened the last two weeks I had no time to write. I still have some other concerns to take care of this week but they’re almost all cleared up that thinking about the story is becoming easy again. This chapter will be relatively short, but the subsequent chapters are forming pretty well. I only need to refine the outline so that I won’t have to rewrite often. The story is still slow because I’m still setting up all the clues towards the eventful climax. (The climax is still far away…) Please kindly leave a review. Thanks. :-)

Chapter 8: Duo or Trio

Harry wasn’t prepared to talk to Dumbledore yet. He hadn’t practiced his speech to explain why he slipped out of Hogwarts without his permission. He felt petrified. He had never been scolded by Dumbledore since he knew him, and the prospect of being possibly screamed at was terrifying by itself.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, Dumbledore,” said Sirius evenly. He then looked at Harry, who was swaying in front of him. “I’m sorry about leaving you like this, Harry, but Dumbledore really wanted to meet you as soon as you arrived. I’ll be going somewhere today, but I hope we could talk alone again very soon – I miss you terribly.”

“It’s okay, Sirius,” said Harry softly and they both went into a hug.

Sirius then went out of the Library, leaving Harry alone with Dumbledore. Harry didn’t need to be told to find a seat; a moldy old chintz armchair – the only chair that hadn’t been in use to stack old excess books on was waiting for him. It was as if it was placed there for the purpose of this meeting.

“Time’s a-wasting, Harry,” Dumbledore said calmly, but this didn’t soothe Harry a bit. Harry was already bracing for a day-long tirade. As soon as Harry had sat down on the armchair in front of him, Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles, placed it at his side table, and looked straightly on at Harry.

Harry swallowed and choked at his own saliva.

“Do you know why I wanted to talk to you Harry?” he said.

“Yes sir,” Harry said, bowing his head as he sat down on the armchair opposite Dumbledore. “I’ve, uhm, gone out of Hogwarts without seeing you first – like you asked.”

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said, lifting his head slightly back while he stared determinedly at Harry. “Why didn’t you, may I ask?”

Harry thought for a moment. He could lie if he wanted to, but Dumbledore was a very difficult man to lie to. He could literally see what his brain was doing from top to bottom, inside and out. Harry didn’t want to further infuriate the man who had taken many pains to protect him since he was born, so he chose to be honest. It was the most logical thing to do at the moment. Not that he had any choice.

“Professor, honestly, I don’t know. But I was so afraid then that you wouldn’t want me to get out for Christmas when my best friends could get home. I was so afraid to be left alone with no one to talk to for three full weeks. It would drive me crazy!”

“And what made you think I wouldn’t permit you at all?”

Harry paused for a moment. He took mild surprise at Dumbledore’s question.

“Well, Professor,” Harry then said, “I guess with Lord Voldemort now out there in the open and with three murders happening at the same time last week, I was certain you’d think it would be too dangerous for me to get away of Hogwarts’ protection. I didn’t want to have no choice left if you personally told me I’m forbidden to get out – but I did try to go to you for days - that’s the truth - and aside from being too scared about it, a lot of bad things happened that I kind of forgot about it for days. The last night before leaving Hogwarts I was already on the way to your office but Angelina Johnson caught me and kept us practicing Quidditch until midnight. The next morning you weren’t around already…sir.”

Dumbledore gazed at Harry for a moment after hearing his explanation. His reasons had some validity to it, but it didn’t take away the fact that Harry had gone without his clearance by ignoring him way back at Hogwarts.

“But you clearly knew the risks if you disregarded my simple instructions, or you being out there with Lord Voldemort roaming freely like you said.”

“Yes, sir. I thought I could still get away if he got to me…”

“Now that was totally reckless of you to think that, Harry. You were totally aware of the dangers and you chose to risk your life to have some outdoor fun. I expected more of you.”

“I didn’t know what I was thinking, sir.” Harry’s gaze sank lower towards the floor.

“I could appreciate your genuine desire to talk to me and I do understand the conditions surrounding your failure to do so, like the unscheduled Quidditch practice. But you could have just told Professor McGonagall that you had no chance to see me. I instructed her to let you off no matter what happened as long as you knew all I was asking for you to do was to spend your vacation here, at Grimmauld place where you’re perfectly safe. Like you have experienced lately, the Burrow or the Grangers’ house aren’t at all very secure to spend your vacation at, though I had told Arthur to take you in for a night before he’d bring you to Grimmauld – that was a risk we had to take due to the circumstances. Sirius volunteered for the job to pick you up from King Cross to Grimmauld but I didn’t want to risk him getting captured. So you didn’t have to lie to McGonagall at all…”

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and said, “Sir, you mean you didn’t think of forbidding me at all?”

“That’s correct, Harry. If you won’t even see me, how would you know what I wanted to ask you? This should not have been a problem at all.”

Harry made a face because he absolutely had no reason to feel any anxious back at Hogwarts if he just walked to Dumbledore and talked to him. Now, he ran the risk of being punished, or worse, expelled.

“As you have heard in my discussion with Cornelius Fudge at my office a few nights ago,” Dumbledore continued, “he would send some wizards from the Ministry to police Hogwarts even at Christmas. The wizards he may choose to send could be Death Eaters who had infiltrated the Ministry. With no one left at Hogwarts besides Mr. Filch – yes, everybody else had gone home for the holidays - leaving you there alone was as dangerous as putting you outdoors…besides, since it’s always been the plan that I’d stay out of Hogwarts for the whole holidays, I don’t have the heart to leave you alone there with no one to talk to besides the mice.”

“Sir, we didn’t listen in to your conversation,” Harry began to defend himself at once. “We never…”

“Don’t you start lying now, Harry,” said Dumbledore speedily and sternly.

“Yes, sir…” he said immediately, and sunk his gaze deeper toward the floor again.

“Like I said before, I do not tolerate lies being told to me, do you understand? It’s what Ron did that got him into trouble with detention…”

“Yes, sir…”

“Very good. You, being out of Hogwarts now, isn’t the issue at this time. That’s always been the plan nevertheless. I’m not blowing your faults out of proportion, Harry, but I must make you understand that I won’t permit you to get away with lying without paying for it. It would make a bad precedent for you – you’d think everything will be all right even if you misbehaved because we would just look the other way. I refuse to accept that kind of attitude, do you understand?”

Harry nodded.

“You need to re-learn how to listen to your mentors and elders like us and Professor McGonagall. Yes, even Professor Snape. We will always have reasons to keep you away from things that you immediately yearn for, but we won’t prevent you from doing what you want unless it’s totally necessary and we will always have valid reasons to do that. You must learn again how to trust us. Until you’re an adult you’ll still have to subject yourself to the wisdom of those who’re responsible for your well-being. Now you know more clearly why I’m angry at you, don’t you?”

“Because I lied, and because I tried to get away from you, sir,” said Harry bluntly.

“That’s right. It was a very dangerous thing for you to do – irresponsible, too. I’m terribly disappointed with you, Harry. This is a valid ground for your expulsion, but I won’t expel you for this. There you go - you escaped expulsion again. Don’t feel you’d always get away with it. I‘m not sure how long I could bend the rules for you, but please don’t make me expel you even if it meant risking your death from Lord Voldemort’s hands. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore leaned back and put back his spectacles on his face and read a piece of parchment. “Professor McGonagall has already planned for your detention when you get back at Hogwarts. And no, it won’t be the same detention I gave to Mr. Weasley.”

Harry groaned loudly.

“This will make you understand how serious your recent offense was. Now do I have your true word that you won’t do this again? Ever?” His blue eyes gazed back flamingly at Harry again.

Harry looked at Dumbledore slowly, and he accepted his challenge sincerely. The look in his eyes told him he was not bluffing, but this was loads better than having expelled. Harry nodded and said, “Yes, sir, you can count on me this time.”

Dumbledore slightly smiled. “Excellent. Double detention after New Year’s - I hope you won’t break your back with it. But I can’t deny you’ve got great finesse in figuring out a way to get yourself out of the dark from what’s really happening around you.”

Harry stared. “What do you mean, sir?”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Mr. Weasley’s not so discrete in planting bugs, if you hadn’t known about it. He looked scared in leaving that severed ear he became very careless. I gave it back to him the next day, didn’t he tell you?”

Harry swallowed hard once more. Ron never mentioned it to him at all because he might have been too ashamed to admit it. So Dumbledore really knew they were eavesdropping, Harry thought.

Dumbledore laughed. “However, the ear thing – whatever you call it – is an ingenious device. You two have the markings of being good Aurors someday. Keeping yourselves in the know as much as possible is always a wise move. However, it would also be tactful not to intrude upon other people’s privacy, the same.”

Harry nodded embarrassedly.

“But let’s get that out of the way. Since I know that you are fully aware of Cornelius Fudge’s plans for our next return at Hogwarts, I want to you, Ron, and Hermione to be extra vigilant from now on. Very extra vigilant. I do not know who’s behind this new plot to place Death Eaters posing as Ministry Wizards at Hogwarts and what their plans are, but I feel that it’s something sinister as the last time.”

“Can’t you do anything at all to stop Minister Fudge, Professor?” asked Harry. He didn’t want to believe Dumbledore was powerless to object to anything that posed any danger to his students.

“Sorry to say I can’t in this case.”

Dumbledore handed Harry the piece of parchment he was reading, and it looked like an official letter from the Ministry of Magic.

“I just got this memorandum,” he said, “from the Ministry informing me of the sweeping changes they’ll be enforcing when the students would return to Hogwarts. You don’t have to read through the gobble-de-gook, but let me summarize it for you in the simplest of terms.

“It says there should be no group of students more than two walking alongside each other at a time, the Headmaster has been stripped of authority to object to Ministry operations enforced at Hogwarts, curfew hours now are at nine in the evening until six the next morning, and no unauthorized groups will be allowed to form for any purpose unless authorized by the Ministry. Violation equals arbitrary suspension. Next, it’ll be expulsion from Hogwarts. That, I expect, is just the first of many new radical rules Fudge wants to introduce.”

Harry examined the parchment more closely and noticed it was signed by seven out of twelve of the school governors. “Looks like they were almost divided in approving this,” Harry observed.

“Yes, because Lucius Malfoy is said to have been very influential and was actively lobbying for it.”

“But he’s a Death Eater, professor!” exclaimed Harry. “He might be the one crafting this to make the conditions right for Voldemort to…” Harry thought hard. “No, it couldn’t be…”

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” said Dumbledore, feeling satisfied with Harry’s intuition. “Yes, it’s possible that they may be planning to kidnap you, but I have no concrete proof to conclude that that’s what they’re planning as of now. There might be other devious things that they have thought of about right now - something at a grand scale. But I strongly suspect Lord Voldemort was not at all too happy that you’ve escaped the second time and he’s plotting another way to get back at you again. You were supposed to have joined him or be killed like you told us. He’ll do it again, I promise you.”

“But see here, professor,” Harry said, “it would be too arrogant for me to think they’re doing everything - all of these just to get me. He must have gotten tired of running after me. There must be other reasons why Lucius is trying hard to put Death Eaters at Hogwarts. How about the destruction of Hogwarts? That’s not at all farfetched, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore nodded, but he didn’t readily agree to that wholeheartedly, though it was entirely possible Voldemort could also be exerting all effort to cause no less than the destruction of Hogwarts. There was something else he knew that he was not prepared to tell Harry yet, and he absolutely believed Voldemort was really out to get Harry and then kill him. He was actively manipulating the affairs of the Ministry of Magic through Lucius for his ends.

“As a whole, yes, he might be planning to destroy all those who oppose him,” Dumbledore carefully said, stroking his beard, “but we cannot rule out the fact that he’s doing this for personal vendetta. Of course, you’re right that it does seem arrogant to think that all the fuss on their part to plan something as elaborate as this was meant for you alone, but thinking otherwise begets complacency. I’m not telling all of this to make you paranoid, but all I ask of you is to be careful and be aware of what’s happening around you. If you do think something is afoot, don’t ever hesitate to come to me for advice. At the same time, I will be asking Ron and Hermione to keep a close eye on you. You could be walking into trouble in the coming weeks…”

Harry, however, didn’t like Dumbledore’s last idea at all. He didn’t want to make Ron and Hermione as his bodyguards to worry about him. He would be fine by himself, though he wouldn’t neglect being extra vigilant like Dumbledore had said, of course.

Dumbledore meant well, and he had always shown very keen sense of what’s been going around him. But not to this extent…please, Ron and Hermione his bodyguards? No, thanks. He felt he’d be the one protecting them now that he knew Voldemort was also out to hurt them.

“I think I’d rather that we’ll protect each other, not just me, professor…”

Dumbledore agreed. “That’s good enough, Harry. I see you really care about your friends – that’s what I really like about you. Don’t give too much worry about the petty differences that come your way. The important thing is you are there for them the same as they are there for you. Search for your feelings, Harry. I trust you’ve fully learned how your bond that protected you from the Oarling. It was a very powerful creature. I could not see how the same protection can’t be used against Lord Voldemort, but just don’t rely on it solely. It only comes at the right time with the right conditions and the right people. Use your skills to the fullest, and together you can be a powerful force to reckon with. Do you have anything that’s bothering you at all nowadays?”

Harry at first wanted to share to Dumbledore what he felt about Hermione and how it would affect that important bond, but he decided against it. He knew what to do. Amid the air of danger around him caused by the endless actions of Lord Voldemort, he was still allowed to worry about his own personal problems - even more “trivial” ones like his inner desires for a best friend.

He needn’t have to worry yet about his security in Hogwarts because that was still far off the calendar. He had to resolve his most recent troubles soon to be able to function well whatever dangers were thrown at him later. He made a point to talk to Ron today to make everything clear with him because Harry sensed that his infatuation with Hermione had been bothering his friend all along. It was probably a good time to find out if Ron was jealous of him.

“None at all, Professor,” Harry lied without being noticed by Dumbledore. “Thanks for the warning, and I won’t ignore your calls from now on.”

“That’s the man,” said Dumbledore with deep satisfaction. “You can go now. I believe you have other important things to take care of.”

Harry stood slowly up and went for the door but before he opened it, he paused and looked back at Dumbledore. “Professor Dumbledore,” he said a little hesitantly with a tiny smile, “I want to thank you for not forgetting about Hermione last night.”

“You’re welcome,” Dumbledore replied, smiling back. “I know how special she is to you.”

-o0o-

Harry and Ron didn’t have much to do during their first day at Grimmauld except clean up the rooms from household pests that strived from years of neglect of Number Twelve. It wasn’t until Ron had an allergic reaction to the dust around the rooms that Molly had called it a day of cleaning very early. She didn’t know it was Fred and George’s way of escaping boring work by trying out their new Sneezing Sandcubes at their brother. The only downside to it was that the antidote had not been invented by the twins yet and Ron kept sneezing non-stop well before dinner.

Harry, on the other hand, had been preoccupied all day with his thoughts about making the huge mistake of changing the way he looked at Hermione. It was one thing that he worried more than his impending detention and of Death Eaters roaming around at Hogwarts. After much difficult thought he decided, quite reluctantly, the he should abandon his desires for Hermione and to try to return things to how it was.

He loved Hermione, there was no doubt about that, but she probably loved him back as a real friend. Treating her as something more than a friend seemed more disadvantageous for a lot of reasons than the opposite, so he thought it was best for the trio to take his desires for her off his chest. He felt a little better now – just a little - feeling that he could just come to her anytime without feeling awkward anymore and worry about rejection. However, he did feel a bit of regret for it. His feelings for her had already grown significantly in a short span of time and he had to let it go. They could have had a nice little relationship. Who knows?

Hermione had not shown herself to everyone the whole day. According to Ginny, Hermione was still too sick and frail to even sit upright on her bed to eat her meals. Molly feared it was some kind of a bad virus that had infected Hermione that she had forbidden anyone from getting near her except Ginny. However, Ginny was still healthy and had no signs of getting the bug, and Ron had always slipped in to stand by Hermione.

Harry, meanwhile, had finally found the courage at last to talk to Ron and tell him about his “former” feelings with Hermione. Like Harry had expected, Ron didn’t take it all very lightly.

“I knew it! There was something going between you and Hermione,” he said hotly in their room, pacing around with no real direction. Harry was sitting at his bed beside Ron’s.

“Ron, look I’m sorry if I couldn’t help it then, I was so confused,” explained Harry. “I couldn’t tell you at all because you might get angry.”

“Right you are, I’m angry,” Ron said, staring Harry down at his face. “You’re the one who’s apparently been causing our breakup. I saw it early on. Hermione’s changed. She’s not like she was like I knew her. She’s been distancing herself from us lately…”

“Breakup?” Harry didn’t believe there was such a thing as a breakup. Hermione, as a matter of fact, was still very close to them and she had always been at their side as much as possible. Well, except until last night – she did seem to look angry lately.

“I never realized…”

“Of course, you didn’t,” interrupted Ron, “you were too busy worrying when you could get to kiss her while I was figuring out what was wrong!”

“Ron, I’m sorry – really, I am. But I think you’re wrong about the breakup thing – she can’t be distancing herself from us. I’ve been - because I was afraid she might have gotten angry at me for hugging her last night. I almost kissed her, too, if I hadn’t controlled myself, you know.”

Ron looked aghast at Harry’s revelation. “I didn’t know that.”

“You were in the kitchen. Just this morning she looked as if she didn’t want to look at me. I didn’t feel very good at all! I knew I made her mad. This isn’t doing us any good, so I thought of giving it up. Start all over. I think you two are just right for each other…”

“Look, Harry, don’t ever think I also have a silly desire for Hermione, okay? Because I don’t…” Ron said, holding out his palms in front of Harry. “I really don’t. Okay?”

Harry regretted he even mentioned that with his desperation to soothe Ron, but he found Ron’s statement hard to believe. “Then why were you so angry with Krum of having a go with her last year?” he asked gently.

“Don’t you say his name!” Ron snapped, but then breathed shortly. “But now that you have, I’ll tell you why! He was threatening to take Hermione away from us. Didn’t you see that at all last year? I didn’t want that to happen. We’re best friends and he just came out of nowhere and he had all the nerve to bud in to take away what’s so important to us.” Ron breathed deeply again as he placed his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling. Hermione’s a huge part of us, Harry, and if she goes, things will never be the same. I don’t know why I’m so scared of it…”

“Look, Ron, sooner or later one of us will go separate ways and get married somewhere. It’s inevitable.”

Ron paused and allowed himself to calm down. “I know. But for now, I’m not ready for that yet, Harry. Someday, yes, but the trio – it’s all I have at the moment. Please understand what I’m trying to say here. I’m poorer than a church mouse, but I feel like the richest person in the entire world because of the simple fact I have you and Hermione.” Ron sniffed and went for the door, slouching. “I want to be alone right now. See you later.”

“Ron, sorry about everything, okay?” said Harry. Ron just waved it off with a hand.

Harry sighed and banged his back against his mattress. Ron was right, he thought. He was being so selfish to want Hermione as a girlfriend that he forgot how important the special bond of the trio was for them. If he took Hermione away for himself, then Ron will most likely suffer because he’d be marginalized in some way. The funny thing for Harry at the moment was he had always assumed Hermione would readily go steady with him (if he did everything right). He had not even opened up his feelings with her and he was already sure what the outcome would be.

Ron sometimes had not been acting like a real friend to Hermione as far as Harry could remember, but he was still someone he and she could count on and vice versa. Ron may not want to admit it, but he cherished Hermione’s friendship. It was refreshing to know from Ron that he had no real romantic desire with her. The true reason for his refusal for Hermione of having any romantic relationship with others (Viktor Krum included) was actually for the integrity of the trio, which Harry thought was very decent of Ron.

Harry remembered to take out Hermione’s picture from his trunk to look at it again. He had to make up his mind now. She still looked very cute to him, making his heart pound again. But finally he sighed and said, “Ron’s right, you’re my best friend, I shouldn’t have wanted you in the first place…”

In the displeasure he felt that followed, Harry never understood the surprised look on Hermione’s face was actually a form of disappointment, not of real shock like he had thought.

-o0o-

Harry had been so lost in thought lying down on his bed that he wasn’t aware he’d been doing it for three hours. Ron was already asleep, having calmed down from his recent rant. They had not talked again about what they discussed at all tonight, but Harry knew Ron was still in speaking terms with him when he had asked Harry to tell his mum to excuse him from housekeeping chose the next day because he was still sneezing. The truth was Ron’s nasal passages had never felt so clear in his whole life.

Moments later he heard Hermione whimper in her room across the hall. This time Harry didn’t stand at once upon hearing it because he knew she was just having another bad dream like the other night. The frequency of Hermione’s bad dreams, including his with Russelpunk, made Harry very uncomfortable again, however. Harry tried to remember when was the last time Hermione had bad dreams that preceded something terrible happening. It was their encounter with the Oarling. He thought their dreams could have some of connection again - she could have seen Russelpunk being murdered, he was not sure, but he had to ask her about it. He felt he needed to know.

Another scream came.

Another bad dream.

Harry finally stood up and went over to Hermione to see how she was. He now had managed to walk in her room, at least without having to fight with himself. Ginny was again awake and was stroking Hermione’s hair to make her quiet, and she looked like she was missing a lot of sleep because of her bloating eye bags.

“At last, it’s you, Harry,” said Ginny sleepily.

“Huh?”

“Hermione’s been waiting for you to come in all day.”

“She was?” Harry walked deeper in the room and sat beside Hermione’s feet. He squeezed Hermione’s hand and felt she was still burning with no end.

“Ron was here several times today, but all she kept hoping for was you.”

Harry groaned. If he was still desiring for her he would have leapt in ecstasy upon hearing that, but that wasn’t the case now. He simply felt very sorry for not acting like a real friend to Hermione.

“I kind of wanted to, but I thought she was mad at me about something since morning.”

Ginny strangely chose to avoid answering Harry’s last statement. “It’ll be nice if we took turns looking after her – I’m so t-t-t-tired,” she yawned. “Would you?”

Harry nodded, took a chair from beside the wall, and sat beside Hermione’s bed. Ginny looked visibly relieved and didn’t wait a second too long to dive on to her bed to go to sleep. “Wake me if her fever gets worse,” she said before cozying up. She fell asleep in an instant.

Harry didn’t feel real sleepy anyway and glanced to Hermione to watch her. She looked reddish – he was afraid the raging fever could have been very agonizing for her at the moment. He reached for her hair and stroked it, knowing that she won’t feel anything, and fixed it in place so that no strand had covered her face. When he saw her face this near ever since he made that “illegal” hug, he felt real bad for not being around for a best friend who was very sick and who wanted to see him all day. He had let her down in her time of need because of his silly infatuation. He wondered how she would take it when she woke up and saw him sitting at the chair.

More silly thoughts came buzzing around inside Harry’s mind again.

She wanted to see me all day so she could slap me!

Yeah. Yeah, I guess that could be the reason – but I’ll take it. If it turns out to be a punch, good, I’ll absorb everything. She could hurt me all she wanted - I deserved it.

Hermione stirred and Harry sat upright, expecting her to open her eyes. But she didn’t. She just kept on sleeping. Harry heaved a sigh deeply and sat back on his chair. Then he heard it again.

“Harry – Harry, please! Don’t mind what I say…”

Harry still had no idea what Hermione kept rattling on about in her sleep. He, however, soon remembered that it was slightly related to what she had cried to him back at Hogwarts after ignoring her about going to Dumbledore regarding the holidays.

Only that it was the opposite.

For Harry, she could have just been feeling guilty of getting over-sensitive about the issue and probably just wanted to tell him she’d support him for his every decision from now on. However that wasn’t like Hermione to give herself up that easily to him. She always had been the conscience of the trio, telling him and Ron how to think straight when they were being so stupid. Now, that was the Hermione that Harry knew.

“Don’t mind that, Harry – like she says,” said Ginny behind her back after she woke up upon hearing Hermione talk. “She’s been saying the same words all day over and over…” She then went back snoring.

There was something about it, though, that Harry couldn’t help but think it something to be concerned about.

-o0o-

“Harry…”

Harry sprang awake on his chair. It was already sunup. He’d fallen asleep when he was supposed to watch over Hermione and wake Ginny if her fever got worse. He shook his head to get even more awake and rubbed his eyes open and looked around sleepily, fighting the bright sunlight that was hitting his face.

When he reopened his eyes, he saw Hermione was already sitting on her bed in front of him.

“Hermione, you don’t have to get up – I could bring you whatever you need…” he began.

“How long have you been sitting there, Harry?” she said with a smile drawn on her face that was unmistakably a show of appreciation.

“Since about,” Harry looked at his broken watch, “ten, I guess.” Harry yawned deeply but covered his mouth immediately. “Sorry, I hope you didn’t smell that…”

Hermione laughed. “Where have you been? I’ve hoping to meet you again since yesterday but you never came, you bastard!” Hermione said playfully.

“Sorry – I’ve been around the…hang on! You’re up!”

“Oh, so you noticed,” Hermione quipped. She laughed heartily again. Harry bent over to her and placed a palm on her forehead. It didn’t feel hot at all anymore.

“Wow, your fever seems to be gone!” he said, looking happy. “That was quick…”

“Strange, but great, isn’t it?” she said, looking surprised about it herself, feeling her own forehead and neck. “It just came in and went off so fast. I feel real healthy already. But the last two nights – it was murder!”

Harry snatched Stephanie Wraskon’s red potion off Hermione head table. “I guess this works all right after all. I gotta thank Stephanie…” Harry didn’t see the look on Hermione’s face after he said that.

Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s knee, making him jump slightly and almost lose hold of the bottle of potion.

“Harry, if you’ve been here since last night, I really thank you for standing by and looking after me. That’s so sweet of you.”

“Oh, yeah, y-you’re welcome,” stammered Harry, returning the bottle to the table.

“But, have I been snoring while I was asleep?” Hermione asked anxiously. She seemed to be more concerned about the thought of snoring while she was asleep than being at the brink of possible death because of her scorching fever. “My Mum says I always snore like pig – I hope she’s just kidding!”

Harry chuckled when she saw Hermione’s worried face. It was good to see Hermione being herself again. “Of course not.” He hesitated. “But you were talking in your sleep, saying the same words two nights in a row.”

Hermione just stared at him, looking puzzled.

“What were you dreaming about, anyway, Hermione?” Harry said, hiding the seriousness of his question by brightening the sound of his voice.

She rummaged around in her mind and shook her head. “Nothing. Why, what did I say?”

“You said I shouldn’t listen to you about something.” Harry mocked a fetal position and repeated the very words she said in her sleep, putting up a high voice. Harry, Harry – please don’t listen…please don’t listen…

Hermione pinched a huge chunk of on Harry’s chest, acting angry but looking embarrassed, and making him howl in pain. Still, she didn’t remember dreaming about anything.

“I might have been just delirious…”

“Well, maybe…” said Harry as he sat upright. He felt he would never know what Hermione had dreamed of, which was really a shame, even though he had tried to replant the very same words in her mind in the hope of making her remember. This was a much different case than her other nightmares earlier in the term before the Oarling came for her. She had remembered each detail clearly then and had even talked about it. This time she had no recollection of anything. Harry felt very uneasy about it, though a part of him wanted to believe it was nothing get alarmed about.

Ginny groaned under her pillow when she was woken up by Harry and Hermione’s loud conversation. She looked around blearily and saw Hermione glance back at her with a grin and sitting up on her bed. She plopped back her head on her pillow, then sat upright and stared at her.

“Good gracious – you’re up!” she said in disbelief. She crossed over to Hermione’s bed and instinctively felt for her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s gone – your fever’s gone!”

“Of course,” giggled Hermione, looking amused at both Harry and Ginny’s identical reaction upon seeing her she was all right. “I don’t have to be sick the rest of my life, you know…”

“I know,” said Ginny, kneeling on both of her knees atop Hermione’s bed looking happy. “I was expecting you’d still be burning hot until at least tomorrow…but this is great!”

“What’s for breakfast?” Hermione said, rubbing her stomach.

“I’ll see if Mum’s ready with it,” Ginny said as she sprang off the bed and ran out the door. Apparently she could not wait to spread the good news Hermione had already recovered.

This left Harry and Hermione alone in the room. They both looked at each other awkwardly, exchanging nervous laughs. This could have been the perfect time for Harry to confess about his budding desire for her or to apologize about it, but he decided against it. It would be pointless, if not dangerous, to stress her further – she just came out of a bad bout of flu. Besides, he could have been the only one who was fighting with such feelings.

No, leave it, Harry told himself silently.

He had been deciding if he’d go for it or not that he didn’t notice Hermione had been watching him from across her bed for a long time. When he finally raised his eyes to Hermione’s, he observed that she was looking at him with unmistakable fondness – and her hand looked like it was reaching for his – hair?

“Hermione, what do you think you’re doing?” he said suspiciously.

Hermione snapped back to her senses, looked around at everything other than Harry, and retreated her outstretched hand behind her back. She fumbled desperately for words to answer him.

“Nice room, isn’t it?” was the only thing she managed to collect. “You could feel the air around it, too, don’t you?” she added, waving her hand around, but she visibly looked furious with herself.

Harry cleared his throat. “I, uh, think I have to go – I guess you need to, uh, change!” He didn’t wait for Hermione’s reply and hustled towards the door. He closed the door behind him very quickly and leaned back on it, and blew a deep breath – he felt as if he had just sprinted for miles. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. She hadn’t done that to him before. Not ever.

Did I really see that for real? What did that mean?

- You perfectly know what that meant, dung brain!

AH!

Feeling excited, he pressed his ears against the door hoping to hear what Hermione was doing back inside; he heard her growl with herself, and then she finally went into a fit of giggles. He didn’t know it, but he had just pulled off the widest of smiles he has had for ages and forgetting about his most recent resolution.

-o0o-

Next Chapter coming next week…

10. Course of Action

I said “next chapter coming next week”, right? Hehe. Well, here you have it, the continuation of the story! It took while for me to update because I was so busy taking care of things during the last week.

Thanks for waiting and reading this story, and please do leave a review after reading. I’ll be smiling like a madman when you do.

Chapter 9: Course of Action

Even though Harry was back into speaking terms with Hermione without ever being afraid of it, he was so flushed with what happened while he was inside Hermione’s room that he didn’t want to meet her yet for the rest of the morning. Harry just needed a little bit more time to think. He spent a lot of time sitting at the single desk in the room he shared with Ron, staring out the open window. His cheeks eventually hurt – he’d been smiling the whole morning while he was lost in his thoughts without even noticing it.

Hermione had tried to stroke his hair while he was looking away – it would seem normal for his best friend to do such a thing, but the look on Hermione’s face gave it a whole lot different meaning. Harry thought he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with his feelings – Hermione might have some feelings for him, too, and was also afraid to open up the subject like him. The only problem was, he could have just misinterpreted Hermione’s actions, he thought. There was still a danger in infuriating her by assuming such a conclusion prematurely – if he had to know, he’d ask her about it and do it cautiously.

What to do about Ron? They both had talked about his budding desire with Hermione, and Ron didn’t take it very well. Harry knew by pursuing his feelings with Hermione he might anger his other best friend, and worse it might change their relationship negatively. Harry couldn’t imagine life without Ron. He was his first ever best friend in his life. He had gotten a glimpse last year of what it was like to have Ron as his enemy, and Harry swore it wasn’t a very pleasant feeling when he and his best friend were engaged in a cold war.

- Look, Harry, he’ll understand eventually. He’s just over-reacting. He’ll come to accept you were born for Hermione sooner or later…

“Yeah, I think that’s right,” Harry muttered under his breath.

- Just do everything nicely and carefully and you’ll be fine…

“Uh-huh.”

Harry shrugged and looked at his watch. It was already a few minutes past eleven in the morning and soon it’ll be lunchtime. He wondered where Ron was at the moment – he had not gone up to their room since dawn. Sighing, he stood up to get out of the room for the first time today. He’d meet up with Ron soon enough, he thought, since Grimmauld wasn’t such a big place for someone to get lost in.

As he walked out the corridor he saw the girls’ room door open. He wanted to know if Hermione was inside and he knocked on the door twice.

“Hermione, are you in there?” he asked as softly as he could, but enough to be heard.

“She took a walk in the garden, Harry,” said Ginny’s voice.

“Oh, thanks!” Harry replied, and walked down on the stairs. When he landed on the first floor, he saw Remus Lupin, who was sitting on the couch near the fireplace and reading the day’s issue of the Daily Prophet. The last time Harry had seen Lupin was during the end of his third year at Hogwarts. There was no sign of everyone else though he heard some sounds of activity near the dining room.

“Professor Lupin!” Harry called his former teacher happily.

Lupin snapped his head at Harry, broke into a wide smile, and stood up to greet Harry. “Good to see you again, Harry,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand. “I was told you were here already since yesterday and I was so eager to see you after more than a year.”

“Same here, Professor,” replied Harry. “How’s life after – you know – Snape let slip you were a werewolf…”

Lupin mocked a growl. “Dreadful! Been jobless ever since. But we still get to meet once in a while for this little group we’re having…”

“The Order of the Pheonix…”

“That’s right,” Lupin said, smiling. “Has Sirius told you about it yet?”

“I wish – but we didn’t get to get together longer after my conversation with Dumbledore. Where’s Sirius, anyway?”

“He’s not around - Dumbledore asked him to do something somewhere other than Grimmauld. Other than that he’s usually in the attic if you don’t see him around here – that’s his usual place he coops up in with Buckbeak when he wants to be alone. Sometimes I worry about the man.”

“Why? He looked okay yesterday,” said Harry concernedly.

“I’m not sure,” said Lupin tentatively. “I think it’ll be good if you could talk to him when he comes back. I want to know what’s going on his mind, too, and I guess you’re the only one who could let him talk about it. But Sirius is a good man – he’s very hospitable with everyone in his house. He just hadn’t been out of here for so long. Dumbledore’s so strict about it ever since. He doesn’t want him to get caught and hurt by the Death Eaters, but today he had his first outdoor assignment. ”

Harry nodded. He knew how Sirius felt – being imprisoned for thirteen years and on the run for a couple more, it would really feel very lonely being restricted to his freedom. Sirius was a very capable wizard who could defend himself he needed to, but Harry still thought he could still be vulnerable when he was outdoors. He suddenly felt worried for Sirius now that he was out. But was he safe in this old house, too? Harry asked the question with Lupin.

“Grimmauld is unplottable, Harry,” answered Lupin confidently. “It has been subjected to a special kind of Fidelius Charm – Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper. We’re all safe here from Voldemort. That’s why he wanted you here as soon as you stepped out of Hogwarts along with the Weasleys. Fortunately no one among you got hurt at the Burrow that night – Dumbledore was upset about the attack and vowed not to take your safety for granted anymore.”

“Any news about the attacks last night in the Prophet?”

Lupin’s face looked grim. “Yes, but not the way we want it,” he said, shrugging, taking the paper off the coffee table, and giving it to Harry. “Here, you might want to read it…”

“Death Eater Attacks a Hoax”

As soon as Harry read the Headline, he didn’t want to read it further like other issues of the Prophet before this and threw the paper on the couch. He knew where this report was going.

“I guess not…the feeling’s mutual,” Lupin said, shaking his head and laughing softly.

“Fudge’s really controlling everything, doesn’t he?” said Harry furiously. “Even the press. He’s getting more dictatorial! After last night, were there other attacks, too?”

Lupin shook his head. “Not a thing – the Death Eaters seem to prefer striking at night. We’re still yet to see them acting during the daytime, but I do believe we won’t be waiting for long. We’re expecting more attacks coming in the days ahead…”

“There you are, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley as she got out of the kitchen holding a large tray of freshly baked bread and placing it on the table. The scent was so good that Harry’s stomach growled in anticipation for lunch. “Could you help me call for the others? We must be quiet, though, because you know…” She placed a finger on her lips and pointed at the covered portrait of Mrs. Black; the velvet drapes seemed to be breathing. Harry nodded and slowly went for the back door where he believed the garden would be located. The first person he ever thought to look for was Hermione. Lupin went up the stairs to call on anyone who were in the rooms.

Harry’s jaw dropped when he opened the back door. Grimmauld’s garden looked vast and well kept like it was constantly attended by a skilled gardener. There were well trimmed hedges, mowed lawns, and walkways void of fallen leaves from the couple dozen tall trees that stood within its perimeter. The odd thing was that all the plants weren’t covered of snow (it was still winter) – it looked just like spring. Harry felt he could stay here all afternoon just admiring the landscape. He felt warm, so he took off his thick clothes and left them inside the house.

He walked deeper through the walkway and ended up near the fountain and looked around for Hermione, but there was no sign of her. He looked up, and he noticed an owl flying around in circles just above the tree canopy, clutching an envelope. Harry observed it for a little longer, and it was the first time he had ever seen an owl that seemed to be at a loss finding the letter’s recipient. That was strange, Harry thought.

He waved at the owl in order to notice him (the letter could be for him) – the owl did, but it shook its head and kept on flying in circles. If the letter was for him, the owl should have given it to him already.

He then saw movement at the opposite side of the fountain – it was Ron and Hermione walking side by side talking. Harry smiled at first when he saw them together, but then felt an odd sense of sadness coming from within him. He didn’t understand why, but it bothered him slightly that Ron had already spent more time with Hermione than him today. He sighed and approached them less spiritedly.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione happily as she sat down on a bench. “We’ve been waiting for you for ages to come down from your room – is anything wrong?” Ron, on the other hand, looked slightly stone faced though he managed a slight smile for Harry.

Harry quickly shook his head. “Oh, no – I was just thinking,” he replied, snatching a glance at Ron. “I came to tell you both that lunch’s ready. By the way, have you seen that owl flying around as if it was looking for someone to deliver its letter to?” When Harry looked up; the owl was still flying above them in circles.

Hermione and Ron both looked up the sky, too.

“It’s been doing that almost all morning – strange,” said Hermione. “Poor owl, it must be tired and hungry.”

However, Ron snorted. Harry and Hermione both looked at him, baffled.

“What’s so funny, Ron?” asked Hermione.

“I know why he can’t see us,” replied Ron, still looking up to the owl. “Grimmauld’s unplottable and Dumbledore could have only allowed mail delivery to anyone from outside authorized to do so - like our parents. I know it’s not for me – my whole family’s here and I don’t know anyone else.”

“It could be mine!” exclaimed Hermione worriedly. “What if it could be from Mum and Dad?”

Ron looked at her, his face frowning. “Didn’t you hear what I just said, Hermione? If it’s from your parents, then you could have gotten it already. Who else do you know?”

Hermione, however, looked away from Ron. Harry knew who she was thinking of, and he didn’t need to mention it.

“I know - Krum,” smirked Ron, and Hermione looked instantly annoyed. “Still writing to him, aren’t you?”

Hermione looked at Ron with daggers in her eyes. “So what if it’s from Viktor, Ron?” she snapped. Ron didn’t answer, but he was still smirking, looking unfazed. He was beginning to act like Malfoy. Harry wanted to ask Ron to stop antagonizing Hermione, but he remembered what they had talked about last night regarding how he felt about Krum. Still, he could still try to intervene to prevent a heated argument between Ron and Hermione from happening next.

“Hey, it could be for me – maybe from Russelpunk,” Harry said, placing his hands on Ron and Hermione’s shoulder. They both found what Harry said surprising, though Ron had known Harry had received a letter from the professor before thanking him for his lesson ideas.

“Why would Professor Russelpunk be writing to you?” asked Hermione.

“Why would he be writing to you again?” asked Ron next. Hermione glanced at Ron then back at Harry again.

Harry told Ron and Hermione about the dream he had about Russelpunk a few nights ago. As Harry had expected, they let out their usual expressions when he told them about something weird and alarming: Ron’s eyes had gotten round and Hermione buried her fingernails on her cheeks.

“Lord Voldemort might think he could gain something by murdering Russelpunk, Harry,” suggested Hermione, “but what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “But he’s seems to be in real danger and he could be Voldemort’s next victim – we just can’t do anything about it while we’re away from him.”

“Let’s just hope he’d still be around when we get back to Hogwarts,” said Ron seriously. “We could warn him, though.”

“Yeah, but how?” Harry said.

“We’ll write him,” Hermione recommended. “Let’s write him about your dream.”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” said Harry, walking back and forth, “but I’m not sure how he’s going to take it. I was hoping we could tell him at Hogwarts, at least we could hold him still if he’d faint or freak out in terror.”

Ron and Hermione murmured in agreement, admitting that they weren’t sure how mentally stable Russelpunk could be. They could not forget how he looked like when Draco put him down in front of the class.

“How about telling Dumbledore?” suggested Ron this time. Harry paused to think about it for a minute, but he eventually decided against it.

“Maybe, but I think Dumbledore has a lot on his hands at the moment,” he said slowly, “like taking care of this Order and Hogwarts at the same time. I think we’ll just have to hope we could catch up with Russelpunk after New Year’s.”

“That’s taking an awful lot of risk,” Hermione said anxiously. “What if he turns out dead before we ever get back to Hogwarts?”

“I hope not,” Harry said.

“Well, the only good thing is that it’ll prove the Defence Against Dark Arts job’s still jinxed up to now,” Ron said nonchalantly.

Hermione, however, didn’t find that amusing and said, “Why you miserable little…”

“I think we’re missing lunch!” interrupted Harry quickly. “Let’s go.”

They all walked together in silence, but Ron and Hermione looked at each other from the corner of their eyes all the way to the house. Harry, at the same time, felt disappointed he didn’t have a chance to talk with Hermione alone today like he hoped to. Perhaps he could still have the chance later on, he thought. He allowed his mind to look forward to something else like the delicious lunch up they’d be having up ahead.

When they had reached the house shortly, however, what they saw made them forget what was in their minds. Grimmauld had a visitor for lunch today, and he was discussing something at the table with Dumbledore, Arthur and Molly Weasely, Moody, Lupin, and Tonks.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped on their tracks just a few feet away from the windows. Hermione nudged her elbow at Harry’s ribs and said, “Is that who I think it is, Harry?”

Ramius Palkov, the ministry wizard Fudge said was a fugitive of the law, was in Grimmauld Place. He was a stocky man who looked almost fifty years old, six feet tall, fifteen pounds overweight, and wore a scruffy looking beard and an eye patch.

“What’s Ramius Palkov doing here?” said Ron.

“Dumbledore said he trusted Palkov during his meeting with Fudge, remember?” Hermione replied, squeezing Harry’s arm. “I guess he might be a member of the Order we keep hearing on about.”

“Maybe,” said Harry, thinking. “C’mon, we won’t know for sure when we’ll just stand here. Let’s get in and see what they’re talking about.” They walked inside the house together as quietly as they can.

“Hermione! Glad to see you’re already fine this morning!” said Arthur Weasley pleasantly when he saw her, Harry, and Ron come over to the table to join them for lunch.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione responded, grinning. She glanced over to Dumbledore, who looked pleased seeing her come out of her horrendous fever last night, and she returned his smile. When her eyes landed on Ramius, she suddenly felt cold because he was looking at her very intently, his face was drawn with unmistakable satisfaction.

“Harry,” she whispered, grasping his arm with both hands. “He’s looking at me.”

Harry snapped a look at Ramius, who was still staring at Hermione. He would have demanded Palkov to stop staring at Hermione if Dumbledore had not spoken.

“Yes, Ramius,” said Dumbledore happily. “That’s her, Hermione Granger.” He was oddly smiling. Ramius breathed deeply with tears welling in his eyes, and stood up courteously for Hermione. Harry just stood still, bewildered at the show of emotion from the man who looked menacing in the Daily Prophet, and Ramius noticed this.

“Please forgive me, Mr. Potter,” said Ramius tentatively, “but it’s the first time I’ve ever met the girl in the picture I found in Bulgaria…”

“Huh?” said Hermione.

“That’s right, Hermione,” said a female voice from the kitchen that she recognized at once. It was Olga Gargarin, the Auror Harry, Hermione, and Ron befriended. “He’s the Auror from Bulgaria who found the picture left by the Oarling.”

“Olga!” Hermione said happily, running towards and locking herself into hug with her.

Ron went over to Ramius first and extended his hand for him to shake, which Ramius happily took. “Mr. Palkov, if it weren’t for you, Hermione won’t be with us right now. Thank you!”

Ramius smiled broadly and simply said, “You’re welcome, sir.” Harry smiled at him at last and shook his hand, too.

Hermione and Olga were already through with their embrace and Harry joyfully greeted Olga. Hermione approached Ramius slowly with a deep feeling of appreciation for the man who had indirectly saved her from living a life like of a zombie. She didn’t know what to say and just tried to follow Harry and Ron by shaking Ramius’ hand. Ramius, however, took and kissed Hermione’s hand politely, much to her surprise.

“I hope you’re all right now, Miss Granger,” said Ramius, smiling.

“I-I am,” she replied, looking flushed. “Thanks to you, sir!”

“Actually, I want to thank you…and your friends. You defeated the Oarling in one night – Aurors like us had tried for years with no success. Calling it a glorious feat would be a huge understatement. It has relieved us of the huge burden for us Aurors within a thousand kilometers, and it’s one less to worry about now…”

“There are more?” asked Ron, horrified.

“Two, I’m afraid,” sighed Ramius deeply. “We thought the one you got was the last one this century and our Spanish and American counterparts are on the case for their own Oarlings, so at least the British and Bulgarian Aurors can now focus on other things now.”

“But if they don’t discover who the Oarlings are, the monsters could still get in Britain, right?” said Hermione, horrorstruck. She was still a little bit traumatized by her first and only encounter with the monster.

Olga approached Hermione and put a gentle hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, dear, the odds of another Oarling targeting you again are a trillion to one.” Hermione laughed along with her, but what she was now worried about was the other girls who might become the victims.

“Ramius, like Olga, is our guest in Grimmauld,” said Dumbledore gently to everyone within earshot. “Please don’t be wary of him, since he’s not a traitor like Cornelius is painting him. He and Olga have my full confidence.”

Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody not looking happy from across the table – he took a long swig from his flask, his magical eye locked at Ramius Palkov. He thought that Moody didn’t seem convinced that his fellow Auror was trustworthy. If he were to choose between Dumbledore’s and Moody’s judgment of a person, he’d heavily lean on towards Dumbledore, so he chose to shrug Moody’s strange look off and not mind it.

Dumbledore invited everyone to gather round the table and eat their lunch. Olga and Hermione sat beside each other, while the elder wizards grouped themselves at one side of the table and the kids (including the rest of the Weasleys) at the other. Molly had prepared spaghetti and bread for today, which tasted very good to everyone, especially for Ron who had three helpings.

“How’s work at the Ministry, Olga?” asked Hermione, as she watched Ron in disgust over his bad table manners.

“I don’t know if I feel lucky I’m still on the job now that Ramius and Nikolai Berdinski have been sacked,” Olga replied, groaning. “I’ve never felt alone in my life - Cornelius is getting unbearable – I wish he’d fire me, too, because then I could go back to Bulgaria where I have lots of friends working in that Bureau. But with all what You-Know-Who’s doing now in England, I don’t want to get fired at the same time. I feel I’ve got a lot to do to help Headmaster Dumbledore here with the fight against him.”

“Thank you, Olga,” said Dumbledore. “Just keep holding on there. We’re all behind you. We need all the hands in the Ministry that we could trust. We got a couple more there, but if you leave…”

“Lucius is getting important again, too, I heard,” said Arthur. “He’s actively influencing Fudge’s decisions and I know he’s doing all he can to make you look bad, Olga.”

“Why?” asked Hermione. “What does he have against Olga?”

“It’s because of the Chadron case, Hermione,” answered Tonks. “Olga gathered evidence to link Malfoy to the conspiracy, but because of his ‘magnanimous contributions’ to the ministry as Fudge had called it, he was cleared. I’m sure he didn’t take it all too lightly.”

“What’s bad,” said Ramius, munching a meatball, “is that the suspected Death Eaters we have arrested were all released without charges. We investigated the murders of the wizard families, identified the perpetrators, and wrote all the letters to the next of kin, but Fudge intervened and fired us instead of helping us solve the case. He told us we weren’t authorized to write the letters, but that’s always been part of our job description and he knows it.”

Olga shook her head and said, “I thought after that Chadron case and the first wizard murders we could net more than a few Death Eaters in the Bureau, but…” she shrugged.

“So who was among them?” said Lupin.

“Cassius Wallace is one – we have enough proof to send him to Azkaban,” replied Ramius. “Only that Lucius is doing all he can to find and hide him.”

“Where is he now?” Hermione frowned. She had seen this certain wizard back in Hogwarts conniving with Jack Chadron and was eager to know what had happened to him.

“That – that’s classified, Hermione,” said Arthur uneasily. “Let’s just say he’s in proper custody, right Ramius?”

“That’s true,” he replied. Harry, meanwhile, swore Ramius’ nose looked different a moment ago.

“Cassius is talking, all right,” Olga said brightly. “Only that it isn’t much – he’s just a low level Death Eater, barely new. But we’re getting bits and pieces of useful information about who the new Death Eaters are. The only bad thing we got from him was the sad fact that true Aurors are working in secret while Death Eaters are getting openly aggressive. It’s supposed to be the opposite…”

Everybody looked at each other with gloom. Voldemort was getting on really fast with his sinister work.

“So what’s the score the night before last, Dad?” Ron asked Arthur slowly. “You know, about the attacks.”

“Forty two Muggles and twelve wizards dead,” Arthur said, shivering. “The most significant was in Longley – thirty Muggles in one place.” Lupin and Tonks both whistled at the same time.

“How can Fudge ever cover that up?” said Harry, slamming his fist on the table. “Professor Dumbledore said the resort was attacked by dogs the size of bulls! Who could possibly miss that?”

“I know,” said Lupin. “Since the victims were all Muggles, the Daily Prophet naturally won’t cover that. Muggle newspapers reported it in their own press that it was a terrorist hijacking gone bad – I bet Fudge asked the Muggle Prime Minister to cook up that story. I guess it fitted well to his agenda because he was selling the idea of going into a war with some other country. The only thing left Fudge had to worry about were the ones involving the wizard families being murdered in one night.”

“What was his story?”

“Serial killers,” quipped Lupin, and Moody barked with laughter. His laugh was derived from his feeling of intense contempt towards Fudge. The others found Fudge’s excuse very silly and they laughed soon after, though halfheartedly.

“I’ve heard dogs barking in Xanthius when we were imprisoned there,” said Harry, making almost everyone stop feeding themselves with spaghetti. Harry looked around at each and every face and said, “What’s the matter?”

Dumbledore said, “That’s the closest confirmation we have that the Hybrids in Longley may be linked to Lord Voldemort, Harry.” The Aurors murmured in agreement.

“Was this the exact sound you heard?” asked Ramius, and he let out a loud and authentic animal sound that made everyone cover their ears. It resonated like a giant Rottweiler with a mix of an angry dinosaur’s.

“Yeah, much like that,” Harry said, massaging his ears. “But they were far away…”

Ginny angrily wiped her dress of fallen tomato sauce.

“Awesome!” said Tonks. She looked extremely impressed. “You got to teach me how to do that, Ramius!”

“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Tonks,” Ramius said proudly. “There’ll be a time for that, I promise.”

“So the Hybrids are coming from Xanthius,” Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. “That means we don’t have to look everywhere to find out where they came from.”

“I’ll tell Kingsley about it,” proposed Arthur, “he was practically tearing off any reference to huge animals in the Ministry. I kept telling him they weren’t Saint Bernards.”

“Yes, you do that, Arthur, please.”

“It’s nice to know somebody’s now doing something against Voldemort,” said Hermione interestedly. “I’d like to read more about the Order – I’ve never found any subject about it in books…”

“To describe it with just a few sentences, Hermione,” Dumbledore said patiently, and smiling, “the Order of the Pheonix, as what it is called, is a secret society of wizards who banded up together to fight Lord Voldemort. This existed before you were born, and it’s only recently that this was reactivated because of his return. There were originally more than twenty of us, including Harry’s parents, but we had suffered a high rate of casualties until Voldemort tried to kill Harry.”

“So that’s why my parents were killed – because they were members?” asked Harry.

“Indirectly, Harry. Not even Voldemort knew there was such a thing as an Order against him – he only knew there was a group out to oppose him. I’m asking all of you to keep the existence of this Order a very deep secret. Never talk to anyone outside of the Order about this and where it is found. It is the only group in existence to fight Lord Voldemort. Do you vow?”

Everyone around who was new gave their word to Dumbledore without any question.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said with strong satisfaction. “I believe I have some pictures of the former and surviving members of the Order around the Library if you want to know who they were.”

“You bet!” said Hermione, looking excited.

“Now, Harry, Ron and Hermione,” Dumbledore continued, “Grimmauld Place is your safe haven when out of Hogwarts. You will never be attacked like what happened at the Burrow the night before last. Even owlpost won’t find you here, unless I authorize it. Hermione, it’s okay to write your parents – just use the owls you’ll find here. They’re about the only people I’ve cleared for owl post. If you could hold on until you’ll return to Hogwarts you can write your friend in Bulgaria from there.”

“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, though she looked visibly disappointed. Ron placed his fork on his platter a little more forcefully than usual, which made Harry look at him edgily.

Olga cleared her throat and said, “Professor Dumbledore, is it okay to…”

“By all means, Olga,” he replied, bowing his head curtly.

“I think you already know what’s in store for Hogwarts after New Year,” Olga told the young ones around the table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins nodded their heads.

“Are all the ministry wizards dispatched to Hogwarts by Fudge really serving You-Know-Who, Olga?” asked Arthur.

“Yes, I say just about everyone,” Olga said gloomily. “Lucius had a big hand on who to assign. Fudge really trusts him, and he refused to believe they’re Death Eaters when I told him. I then tried to suggest a few wizards our group could trust but Fudge rejected them outright. There are a couple of wizards tasked in Hogwarts by Fudge that I know aren’t under Lucius or they’re Death Eaters. They could be of use to us – make them our informers. I’ll let you know who they are when it’s time.”

“You’re doing a good job, Olga,” said Dumbledore.

“Is Horace Whipple a Death Eater, too?” asked Harry.

Olga, Arthur, and Ramius were taken slightly aback – they didn’t know how Harry had known Whipple to be one of the wizards assigned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore explained to them how they had found out. After hearing about it, Moody exchanged seats with Ginny and talked with George and Fred in an undertone.

“Yes, we believe he’s the leader of the Death Eaters at Hogwarts,” replied Olga. “Whatever happens, please don’t trust him, whoever he is. If I can turn the two other wizards to our side, I’ll send you an owl to tell you who they are so you can ask for help from them if you need to. Hermione, are you up to some sort of assignment from us?”

“Sure!” Hermione replied. She felt instantly excited to do something interesting at Hogwarts for the Order other than studying for a change.

“You’re a prefect,” Olga continued. “I know for a fact that Fudge will be deputizing Hogwarts prefects to help his Ministry Wizards police the school. You’ll be in close contact with them to get your instructions. Now, we’d like you to look around casually and try to find out what they’re up to…”

“You mean like a spy?” she interrupted eagerly.

“A little, but please don’t overdo it. Don’t go the extra mile and try to get in places you’re not supposed to be – we absolutely won’t permit that. They might kill you. You only need to tell us what your ears would naturally hear. But I really doubt it if they can afford to talk louder about their plans with students around. Still, a bit of intelligence is better than nothing at all.”

“But, Olga,” said Harry, looking apprehensive. “Hermione’s closely identified with me. She might get into a lot of trouble nosing around…or worse, killed like you said”

Ron and Ginny both murmured in agreement.

“Yes, so that’s why it’s important that Hermione mustn’t go just beyond hearing the Death Eaters’ conversations within earshot. They might just slip a bit of information or two, and that’s good enough. Hermione, you must judge whether it’s safe to keep doing it at the first three days. Be honest about what you feel, and we will ask you to abandon it and just work like all other prefects in Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur all nodded at Hermione.

“I-I don’t know about that…” Harry groaned, glancing anxiously at Hermione. “Please, let somebody else do it…”

Hermione, however, squeezed Harry’s hand from under the table, which made him jump slightly. “Harry,” she said, looking straight at his eyes, “it’s worth a try – I’ll cease at once when I feel it’d be too dangerous…” They both stared at each other’s eyes for a long time, lost in their own thoughts, and only a fork the fell down from Ron’s plate made them break off.

Dumbledore smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Harry, we won’t be asking her if we know she’ll be in extreme or mortal danger. I’ll tell her what and what not to do, and I know she could handle it. Furthermore all the teachers have been asked to keep checking on her, and we will respond appropriately if something untoward happens. We will all be responsible for her safety, I can assure you that.”

“Can I also go with her if I want to?” Harry asked, just barely hearing what Dumbledore had said. “I mean, watching her back, too?”

“Certainly, Harry, but please don’t forget the rules. Non-prefects mustn’t be out of their dorms beyond nine in the evening. Also, in case you forgot, you aren’t permitted to usurp the functions of the Prefects – even when walking alongside with them. That rule was thought of to prevent students from being seen wandering around the corridors at night by using their Prefect friends as escorts…”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore was giving him a hint on how to circumvent the rules, and he understood. “Yes, sir, I’m perfectly aware about the rules, thanks,” Harry said. Hermione smiled at him broadly, looking appreciative at his show of concern.

“Just don’t rely on it too much, Potter,” warned Moody. “Some Death Eaters might have the power to see anyone under the cloak. It’s a special skill most wizards normally don’t tell anyone about.”

“Thanks, I’ll be careful…”

“Oh, goodness, look at the time,” Dumbledore exclaimed. “We’ve been talking too long and we forgot about eating lunch. Our spaghetti’s getting cold - I suggest we indulge ourselves with life’s simple pleasures instead of sulking about the future, shall we? We still have lots of time to prepare, don’t you worry. Molly, do you have any more of your delicious sauce?”

“Coming right up!” she replied from the kitchen.

“I think I’m fine already,” said Harry, starting to stand up. “If you’ll excuse me…” Everybody nodded without saying anything; they were too preoccupied with their taste buds.

“Harry, wait up!” Hermione called. “Let’s go back to the garden. I’m still not through exploring it. Ron, you coming?”

Ron, however, didn’t seem to hear Hermione, and kept on eating his fourth helping of spaghetti, though he did his best not to make it too obvious he was snatching glances at her and Harry. Hermione shrugged after not getting a reply from him, pulled Harry casually away from the table, and started to guide him towards the terrace outside.

Harry, meanwhile, had glanced at Moody, who was talking quietly with the twins in a businesslike manner. Passing by them, he managed to hear Moody say, “So can you make these things into other shapes, too, other than an ear? It only needs more magic to extend its range…”

He would have wanted to listen more to their conversation to at least know what Moody was on about, but he thought he’d had his chance to be with Hermione alone now and couldn’t resist it.

-o0o-

Harry didn’t know why Hermione suddenly wanted to be back in the garden with him after he excused himself from eating more lunch, but he admitted at himself he was getting excited about it. What he did know now that he felt tense again being this close to her – she didn’t let go of his hand since they walked out of the house. She had not even spoken a word. She just pulled him to whatever direction she took, and eventually she chose one of the benches right at the center of the garden in front of the decorative fountain.

Hermione sat down on one side of the bench and glanced up to Harry. He felt petrified – he covered it up by looking around the snowy sky, saying nothing.

“Sit down here, Harry,” Hermione said, patting the empty space on the bench beside her. Harry swallowed, and gently settled himself down. His palms were sweaty, and he tried to rub them dry on his trousers.

“Nice garden, isn’t it?” Harry managed to say without choking.

“Yeah, I could spend forever in this place – it’s so serene.”

“Uh-uh…”

“Harry, I want to thank you.”

“Oh, for what?” Harry asked gently.

“For worrying about me a lot during the last few days,” she said, smiling. Her eyes twinkled back at him, and they ran around Harry’s face fondly.

“Oh, you’re welcome. What’re friends for?”

“Friends…yeah,” Hermione said absently, and she fell silent for a moment, looking around at the trees. “Could you tell me about your friend?”

“Uh, friend?” Harry said a little confused. “Who?”

“You know, Stephanie – Willard’s niece.” Hermione did her best to sound casual, but her voice was oddly shaking, like it was forced.

“Ah, Stephanie,” repeated Harry. He didn’t know how to start describing Stephanie to Hermione. Willard’s niece was a nice girl, talented with medicinal magic, and it was not a secret that she was a fan of Harry’s. But he had grown attached to her in their brief companionship because of their common bond with Willard. For Harry, that was harmless – they would have to communicate with each other more to learn about how Willard was amid his disappearance. However, Harry suddenly realized Hermione might be feeling uncomfortable about his relationship with Stephanie – was that why she looked angry back at the Burrow when they said goodbye to each other? Was Hermione jealous of Stephanie?

He glanced back at Hermione, who was sitting shiftily on the bench. She was looking around other than him as if she was waiting for his answer. He had to be careful with his reply, he thought, because she might really feel uncomfortable about the subject. He might be wrong about it, but he chose to be safe than sorry.

“She’s just my acquaintance for the moment,” Harry started slowly, and he told her what happened at Willard’s hotel. Hermione listened very intently to his story, and gasped at the right parts when learning of the reasons behind Willard’s disappearance. To Harry’s relief, the new subject somehow had taken off some of the tension he felt when he was this close to Hermione.

“But that doesn’t make sense, Harry,” Hermione said, trying to tie up the facts. “What do they want from Willard? I’ve read about Metavira somewhere – it’s just a healing potion, but I’m not sure for what ailment. I just skimmed that subject since I felt it wasn’t that important to me.”

“When did you read about it?”

“Third year,” Hermione replied.

“You mean you’ve read about Willard two years ago?” said Harry, surprised. If by chance he had read along with Hermione the same book then (which was nearly impossible given his mild bibliophobia), he would have recognized Willard at once when he met him for the first time. What a small world, it was.

“Yep. Willard Wraskon was quite famous for his potion for a time, but he slipped off the public eye afterwards. I didn’t know it was the same Willard you were on about after we got back from Xanthius until you mentioned Metavira. I don’t really remember which book was it, but I’m sure it’s in Hogwarts Library…”

Harry sighed. He admitted he only knew Willard by his first name. Not until he met his brother Steve did he know his last. Not that it mattered back then – he was too busy worrying along with Ron where to go after being tagged as fugitives.

“What were the names of the other missing scientists again?” asked Hermione.

“I kind of forgot,” said Harry, feeling a little embarrassed. “But there was one Girbeau or something…”

“Ah, that would be Francs Girbeau, he’s French. I got to look it up again at the Library. He made a different potion that’s useful for some other use. I think we could at least paint a picture of what Voldemort might be after by abducting them – if he was responsible at all with their disappearance at all. We’ll find references of their achievements, and try to find what they’re famous of. Maybe they’re cooking up a cocktail potion of some sort…”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Hermione!” Harry said, impressed at Hermione’s keen sense of thought.

“But, there’s a slight problem, Harry,” she said, sighing.

“What?”

“Some of them have a patent for their inventions,” she said, shrugging. “We may not know what constitutes their own potions until their patents expire, especially for Girbeau’s – his discoveries were only made just recently and he was making a lot of Galleons for them.”

Harry groaned. He thought Hermione was already zeroing in on the reasons of their abduction. If they knew of the formulas for the individual potions these scientists were known for, they could mix it up and try to find what the effect would be. That was a dangerous thing to do, but at least they would have an insight of what Voldemort was up to.

“Well, I guess the only thing we could do is suggest to Dumbledore what you have thought of, Hermione,” said Harry disappointedly. “He might get a new lead from it. It does make sense.”

“I’ll try to look things up at the Library when get back,” Hermione volunteered. She looked real serious about the matter. “I can’t take it if we’re just doing nothing, standing around when Death Eaters are up to something. I can’t believe Fudge’s allowing Hogwarts to be infiltrated by them.”

Harry agreed. “I dunno what he ate or drank, but it’s like he’s giving Lucius Malfoy a free hand. Surely Draco will be unbearable when get back…Dumbledore seems to be powerless to convince Fudge to call the Death Eaters off.”

“Hmmph! That’s because Fudge’s using legal tactics against him…”

They looked at each other and said at the same time, “Malfoy.”

“Let’s not forget about Russelpunk, Harry,” Hermione said. “We’ll try to look after him, too. Your dream was too ominous for comfort – it meant something.”

“Okay,” Harry said, nodding. “And we do what we can to find out about anything at Hogwarts – we’ll help each other. Hermione, Olga’s right. You must be careful playing spy with Whipple or the other Death Eaters, too. If I can’t help you when they’d hurt you, I won’t forgive myself for the rest of my life!”

Hermione glanced slowly at Harry – he was wearing that same look on his face back at King’s Cross. Instead of laughing about it, she felt thankful for Harry’s concern for her. “Thanks, Harry,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Thanks for really caring always. Uhm, did you really mean what you said about your dream…you know, the part where you thought it was me in the cupboard?” she asked slowly.

Harry hesitated to answer for a moment because he was initially afraid he’d go overboard with his answer and make Hermione mad at him. But he felt this was his chance – his chance to tell Hermione what he really felt about her. She was giving him the opportunity to open himself up to her. Was it safe? How would she take it if he told her he’d wanted her more than a best friend? He had to decide and decide now, or else it’ll be a long time before he’d have this chance again. He remembered Hermione’s actions back at her room when she had recovered from her burning fever. He hoped it was a good indication that everything will be all right if he just went honest with her. He breathed deeply and looked for the right words to say. Hermione was waiting patiently for his answer, and she kept on looking at him with renewed fondness.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said shyly. “It was real scary – I dreaded seeing you in there with your eyes staring lifelessly ahead…oh, sorry about. But it’s all because of your eyes. It’s the first thing that, uhm, attracted me to…er, you know…”

“Yes?” Hermione asked softly, her face had gotten brighter. Harry didn’t see her face, though, because his eyes were busy darting from one spot to another at the garden.

Harry cleared his throat and breathed deeply. He shut his eyes, and counted to three. He breathed deeply like he was preparing for the words he was about to say were deep inside his lungs.

“But you see I believe there is something else,” he exhaled, heart thumping. “Something more intense. I felt that not only I lost a friend, but I also lost something more special than that. I don’t understand it, either, but I was afraid of the reality of never ever seeing you again, seeing your face, your – gorgeous brown eyes - ” he said, surprising himself, but he didn’t want to stop now that he said that.

“We’ve spent so much time together – as friends. We’ve been in so many places all these years. So many situations that – I don’t know, that has bonded us even more. Yet I didn’t take in what I’d feel until the time I thought I lost you. It was a dream, yeah, but it was all too real. Then I knew there is something deep that I’d never known I held on all these years, and I want to know what it is, if it’s true - if you give me a chance to make it flourish. I want to know if we’re more than just best friends. Are we?”

Hermione, however, was oddly silent. Harry didn’t know how she had taken that – he still wasn’t looking at her face. It made him feel gradually nervous. He had heard stories about best friends breaking up because one felt differently and the other hating him or her for it. Harry now started to regret what he said – this wasn’t what he wanted. He could have given it more time. He was getting too fast. Maybe this wasn’t what she had expected for an answer, perhaps something just milder. He dreaded to see Hermione at his side looking livid. He could see her hand slapping his face at any moment.

But she hadn’t responded yet. Maybe he could still say sorry to her and tell her he won’t do it again, he thought. He still had time! His head felt like a ton, but he had to look at her again. “Hermione, I’m sorry I…”

Fwump! Hermione had fainted. She had fallen down from her bench and landed hard on the stone walkway. Harry panicked.

“Hermione!” he exclaimed, going over to her. “Are you okay? Please answer me!” He lifted her up and settled her on the bench and fanned his hand over her head to give her a little breeze.

Seconds later, she came to, and she was feeling very groggy.

“Hermione, how’re you feeling?”

She looked around, looking confused for a moment, and sat upright on the bench with the help of Harry. “Harry, what’re we doing here? What time is it?”

“We were talking,” Harry replied. “I-It’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course I’m okay,” she said, though she closed her eyes and massaged her aching head. “Damn these headaches. I thought I was through with them…Omigosh! Did I oversleep and miss lunch!”

“No, uh, we were…”

“Could you please help me up? I got to go back to the house – strangely I don’t feel hungry, but I’ll have to eat lunch for the sake of it. I might go hungry in the afternoon.” Hermione stood up by herself anyway and fixed herself up. “You coming?”

“Uh, I’ll follow in a little while,” he replied slowly. “Why don’t you, uh, hurry up or you’ll find the table bare.”

When he lost sight of Hermione going back towards the house, Harry breathed deeply and sat back on the bench as if had sprinted for miles. He had managed to tell her what he felt for her but at the same time Hermione was attacked by her headaches brought about by her accident at Hogwarts. That meant whatever she was doing for the last hour or so, she had no recollection of it.

He then had his concerns for Hermione – he hoped her condition wasn’t permanent like Madam Pomfrey had told him, because if it was, then it was just like dementia in a mild form. Harry felt pity for her again. She had gone through a lot of pain lately from her accident to her recent fever. But he knew she didn’t need pity from him – she needed his patience, understanding, and help towards her recovery. Like a very good friend.

Harry sighed. Would he feel lucky that Hermione had practically not heard of his confession that might have offended her (even to the extent of a headache attack)? He felt he’d never know how Hermione looked when he told her about his feelings – if he had looked at her in the eyes when he told her so, he could at least have an idea how she was absorbing it. It would then help him decide if he’d try to tell her again at the right time. Now he was unsure of everything again. He didn’t know if he’ll ever raise the subject again fearing that Hermione might not take it lightly for real the next time.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” he muttered to himself. “Why’s this happening to you?!?”

He stood up and slouched back towards toward the house, not noticing Ron staring at him from a window up the second floor, holding up something at his ear, and looking extremely disappointed.

-o0o-

“Take them away!” roared Lucius in his huge study at the Malfoy Manor, pointing to two shaking Death Eaters who had reported to him today.

“No, please! Take us where? Take us where?” said one of the scared Death Eaters, and they were dragged out of the study to an unknown place by their own colleagues. The sounds of their cries soon died out when Campion closed the doors and faced Lucius.

“Those incompetent fools didn’t get what I wanted, Campion,” screamed Lucius.

Campion chose not to comment and merely nodded. Lucius was fuming. His face was red and slammed his cane on his shiny table, creating a splintery wound on the surface, which Narcissa would be certainly be furious of. That didn’t matter.

“The other group, Wilson and Oakley, did accomplish their mission, sir,” Campion spoke softly. “At least we can take it from there.”

“But that means I have only one to work with! One!” Lucius said, holding out his finger.

“What do you want us to do now, sir?”

Lucius didn’t answer at once looked out the window to try to calm down and think. After a few long minutes he thought he could still salvage the situation. His task would be a little more complicated to perform, but Campion was right. It would have been bad if he also hadn’t gotten the one he called the “Reserve”, so he thought he should feel at least lucky that this wasn’t the case. Voldemort was getting impatient, but he could still attain what he was out to do. Although it was against his and Voldemort’s principles to use his newly acquired asset, it was better than nothing at all.

“Tell the others about the situation,” instructed Campion. “They might have to change their plans slightly. Tell only those who need to know – I don’t want any leakages, especially to the Dark Lord. I’ll try to fix this complication as much as I can, but the important tasks must be done. We must settle on what we have now.”

Campion bowed at Lucius and went off towards the door. Lucius shook his head and pushed a lamp aside with his cane, sending it to the floor crashing. There was no such thing as a perfect plan.

After gathering up some documents from his desk, he fixed himself up for his next meeting with Voldemort. Lucius was already lagging behind schedule, and the recent bungling of the current phase by his foolish Death Eaters may have pushed it even more. He decided not to infuriate the Dark Lord prematurely by telling him the whole truth just yet. Lucius got out of his office, regaining his confidence of still do the job despite the setback.

-o0o-

Next Chapter coming soon…

11. Death Eaters at Hogwarts Again

SLIGHTLY EDITED FROM LAST VERSION

Thanks, Ridxwan for your criticism…Oh…my…gawd! I didn’t realize this chapter sounded a little gay, like he called it. That wasn’t supposed to happen. So I’ve slightly modified some entries to this chapter. Thanks to the critique, because it helped free up some redundancies to the story and this slightly different chapter will actually help improve the plot! Really! Thanksss…

Original Authors Note: I’m very sorry for the long delay of this update! What’s my excuse now? Plot holes that significantly wrecked the flow of the story’s future chapters! I can’t tell you what they were, of course, but I fixed them by rewriting the majority of this chapter to fit in very well to the ending. It was a nightmare, but I’m glad I discovered the plot holes before it was too late. As a result, we have a domino effect for the subsequent chapters, quite a few of my original ideas (though minor) were rendered irrelevant and so that means more rewrites ahead for me, and a minor overhaul of the outline for the later chapters.

I hope readers will be patient when I write as carefully as I can before releasing new chapters. If you find any inconsistencies (as I’m my own editor – hehe), please point them out though reviews. I’m sure I missed something out of the confusion. Thanks!!!

Thanks very much to RidXwan for reviewing (he sent more than three reviews for this story, counting the ones in Fanfiction.net). Thanks for making me smile like a madman, man!

Okay, enough of this dreary speech chockfull of excuses. On with the show!

Chapter 10: Death Eaters at Hogwarts…Again

Ramius and Olga didn’t stay longer than anyone had expected and took their leave at the middle of the night the same day. They still had so many tasks to do for Dumbledore at the Ministry, which no one knew of except for them.

Despite being restricted to the confines of Grimmauld most of the time (except for the rare and fully secured trip to Diagon Alley for some Christmas shopping) Harry and his friends had a wonderful and relaxing vacation towards Christmas nonetheless. After all, this was the first time Harry had ever experienced Christmas outside of Hogwarts and the Dursleys (if he had felt the holidays at all while he lived with them). Grimmauld looked festive with a frosty Christmas tree, mistletoes, candy canes, and all kinds of holiday decors.

To everyone’s nervous relief, there had been no new Death Eater attacks for days so far. Dumbledore was uneasy about it, though. He thought of it as some kind of calm before the next storm. He told Harry, Ron, and Hermione that the Dark Lord also liked to use this strategy: keeping his enemies guessing of what and when his next move was. This was the least of Harry’s troubles because he kept wondering where his godfather had gone to. Sirius had not returned to Grimmauld since the last time he saw him but Dumbledore assured Harry that he was staying over at “a big friend’s place”. Harry wished Dumbledore didn’t have to be vague about it although he felt better now that he knew Sirius wasn’t wandering around like before.

This year’s Christmas Eve dinner was the most sumptuous of all dinners Harry, Ron, and Hermione ever had. Molly was in her element with regards to cooking tasty dishes – everybody had to have third to fourth helpings each of everything. They couldn’t say no to breakfast on Christmas Day either because of the bacon, eggs, and lean ham. Ginny simply fled at the sight of them at the table.

Sirius’ Screaming Scale was heard throughout Grimmauld on Christmas morning, teasing the people trying to see how much weight they gained by bellowing words like “Hermione’s going fa-at!”, for Lupin, “Gerrof! Gerrof!”, and Harry “Still thinking you’re skinny, aren’t ya?” (Hermione didn’t need to get mad about the scale’s insults because she had seen it flying out of the window at least twice already.)

The only damper to Harry and Hermione’s otherwise enjoyable holiday was Ron’s lessening enthusiasm of spending time together with them. His daily mood appeared subdued ever since their last conversation at the garden before meeting Ramius Palkov. Hermione was especially worried about Ron, and he was usually evasive when she asked him what was wrong. Harry felt it, too, and made it another point to talk to his best friend about it to help clear things up.

Harry, meanwhile, chose to set aside his determination to get another chance to open up his feelings towards Hermione. He simply lacked the courage and knew that the last thing he wanted for the rest of the holidays was Hermione not wanting to talk to him ever again because of it. Harry also thought he almost knows why Ron was acting like a loner most of the time doing nothing but lying down on his own bed almost all day just thinking to himself. Harry wasn’t sure about it, though, because he had never again been alone with Hermione after his “abortive” confession with her (that was five days ago). He, Hermione, and Ron had spent most of their time together like the trio they had always been - if not alone to themselves at times. Still, he had to talk Ron again and try to find out what was bothering him.

And it proved to be an unpleasant discussion.

“You don’t care about our own little trio, do you?” roared Ron at the garden Harry. Harry was just sitting down on a bench, looking up at his livid best friend quietly. Ron had finally snapped as Harry had feared.

“I do care about us. I…” Harry began but Ron cut him off again.

“No, you don’t! I can’t believe you’d be this insensitive and dishonorable, Harry! After what we’ve talked about, you’re still chasing Hermione around like a caveman!”

“That’s not true, Ron!” Harry said, and he was getting increasingly peeved by Ron’s incessant shouting. “We’ve been together with her all the time, and I haven’t been alone with Hermione except for once – and we just talked about Russelpunk and the missing scientists…”

“Ha! Isn’t that the truth?” snorted Ron. “Selective amnesia, it is!”

“What do you mean?”

“You talked about your feelings with her, and Hermione’s little memory problem kicked in fortunately at the right time…”

“How do you know about that?” Harry said, his stare at Ron getting sharper.

“I just know…”

“Don’t lie to me, Ron! We didn’t talk about romance! Ask Hermione. Prove you heard what he talked about, or you’re just making it up!”

Ron stared back at Harry for a moment piercingly, trying to decide if he’d show Harry how he knew about what transpired in their conversation when Ron was nowhere near them at that time. To Harry’s shock, Ron contemptuously threw the rubber ear on top of the bed – it bounced and Harry caught it.

“Now who’s lying, Harry?” said Ron angrily.

Ron proved without words Harry had lied to his best friend just to cover himself up. Harry would have melted on the spot as he stared on the Extended Ears sitting on his palms. However, new anger coursed from deep within him this time. Ron had eavesdropped on his and Hermione’s private conversation without his knowledge and permission, and this was a very different matter as it was intrusive. He didn’t know how Dumbledore took it all too lightly when he found he out they were doing the same thing to him, but now he understood how it felt like. This was way more personal than talking with Fudge.

“You were listening in on our conversation…” Harry began. Ron kept silent while he glared at Harry and he looked unwavering in his determination to fight this one out.

“You were listening in on our conversation…” Harry repeated, gritting his teeth. “How could you, Ron, you…have no right to do that, Ron! Have you ever listened to your mother about not invading other people’s privacy?!?”

“Don’t you drag Mum into this, Harry!” Ron warned furiously, pointing a finger at him.

“I’m talking about your etiquette, not your mother!” Harry shouted.

“Whoa! I could see the old ‘change the subject quick’ trick coming! It won’t work on me, Harry. You’re stooping so low as to try to hook up with our best friend. I should have known you were this selfish ever since, Harry, and I haven’t bothered trying to follow you around wherever you go. We’re through for good this time, Harry! I don’t want to talk to you ever again!”

“Fine!” Harry bellowed, swung his foot in midair like he now always did when he was extremely angry, and moved to another spot further from Ron. He was so angry with Ron that he didn’t care to say sorry anymore. He felt Ron had left (angrily, too) and threw a scathing look at Ron’s back as he walked away fuming.

Harry could not believe how Ron could sever their friendship like this readily – the subject about his desire for Hermione would have been easy to settle, but he didn’t feel he’d forgive him for a long time because of his eavesdropping. Harry knew this shouldn’t have happened if Ron had approached him nicely, but at the same he felt he should have not exploded like that when he learned of Ron’s intrusion. They’ve been friends for so many years – Ron was the only true friend he knew ever aside from Hermione, and he was already beginning to feel very sad they were breaking up, especially during Christmas.

Harry didn’t go to the house for a while after his blistering encounter with Ron to avoid meeting him again. However, he knew he couldn’t stay out here forever and whether he liked it or not, he could still cross paths with him – Grimmauld wasn’t too big for the both of them. Harry was still too angry with Ron that he didn’t remember deciding to return to his room to cool off. He also didn’t remember meeting anyone along the way, though more than one had called on his name to ask what was wrong with him.

Harry had gotten just outside the room he shared with Ron, and he felt anxious of what he could do to him if he’d find him there. If Ron was inside, he’d just find another place to be. Fortunately he wasn’t there, only his snowy owl Hedwig who was perched on the window sill. He got in the room and found Ron’s bed devoid of sheets and pillows. His trunk was nowhere to be found, too (clearly he had vacated this room already).

The only place Harry thought Ron could transfer to could be either his parents’ room or the twins’. He bet his only glasses he chose to be with Fred and George, because knowing Ron, he wouldn’t want to make Arthur and Molly wonder why he didn’t want to stay in the room with him anymore. Molly would surely be unbearable for Ron admonishing him for going to a fight with his best friend – she would probably try to convince them to make peace with each other. He wished Mrs. Weasely would do so, because even though he hated what Ron did to listen in to his private conversation with Hermione, he didn’t want to be enemies with him again. The sooner this little conflict would be resolved, the better, but he was prepared for the possibility that this one won’t end very soon.

Harry believed that with all the enemies he had in his life – Voldemort, Lucius, Draco, or maybe even Dudley – the most difficult to deal with was his best friend, if not the worse. The longer the conflict dragged on, the more it hurt because he’d be longing for his lost company. It was hard for him to believe it was just only a few days ago when they helped each other get out of some sticky situations as real friends, like their encounter with Steve Wraskon that Death Eater attack at that Burrow. Now they hated each other.

He had now admitted he had made a mistake of pushing for something that he knew would anger Ron – he thought he was ready to express his regret for it in front of him. But aside from being very reluctant to give in to Ron first this time, it didn’t erase the fact that he eavesdropped on his personal conversation with Hermione – Ron owed him an apology, too. A big one at that.

“He must apologize to me first,” Harry thought at last. “What he did to me was much worse than telling Hermione about my feelings. Right, Hedwig?”

Pride had prevailed over their friendship.

-o0o-

It took almost a couple of days for Hermione to notice that Harry and Ron weren’t talking to each other. In fact, she was the first one to notice of all the people in Grimmauld. Harry and Ron had skillfully avoided each other, but they both knew where the other was when somebody asked them.

Concerned, Hermione chose to talk to Ron first about what’s going on between him and Harry, but Ron was not talking. He flatly refused to tell her the details, which made Hermione slightly mad with impatience.

“Ron!” she called as he stormed away from her, “Please, let me help you and Harry…” but he didn’t go back to her at all.

Desperate to look for answers, she immediately searched for Harry and caught up with him at the very bench they had sat on and talked a few days ago. Harry was all by himself, looking lonely from Hermione’s standpoint. She sighed and approached him slowly.

“There you are,” she said as she got within a few feet from him. “I thought I’d find you here.”

Harry was a bit startled with Hermione, though he smiled and dusted off the spot for her to sit on.

“Can we talk?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Ron.”

“Oh. Him,” Harry said with bitterness in his voice. “What about?”

“I knew there was something wrong between the both of you, so I got concerned…and I asked him about why you’re both fighting.”

“Great,” Harry muttered under his breath, “now he’s trying to make her mad at me by telling her everything…”

“Sorry, what did you say?” asked Hermione, leaning closer to Harry.

“Nothing…nothing. What did he tell you?” Harry said, now looking anxiously at Hermione. He was afraid Ron had told her some twisted tales to make him look like a jerk to her, thus getting her sympathy.

“Practically nothing!” she said exasperatedly. “What’s going on between you two? You’ve fought last year and you’re fighting again. Are we seeing some kind of a new tradition here?”

Harry just fell quiet. Hermione sat down beside him, determined to squeeze out some bit of an explanation from Harry.

“Harry, I’d like to know – I need to know so that I could help you reconcile,” she wheedled, moving closer to him. “It’s bad enough if you’re not in talking terms, but I don’t want to think what’ll happen if it gets worse…”

“If he’ll apologize to me first I’ll consider talking to him again…”

“Why, what did he do?”

Harry hesitated answering her for a while, but he couldn’t deny to himself he did want Hermione’s help to end this little war with Ron. It was only a few days old but it’s taking an emotional toll for the trio already. Like most people, it wasn’t easy for Harry to live on with his life while he knew he was not at peace with somebody, especially one of his best friends. But the reason he would give Hermione why Ron hated him will be very revealing…he’d just have to tell her about it using carefully chosen words…

“Ron…you see, thinks I’ve got the hots for you…” Harry trailed off. Now he’d done it. He let it loose.

Instead of some expected moments of silence while Hermione absorbed that revelation, she said “Oh, is that all?”

“Huh?” said Harry. He was completely surprised at Hermione’s reaction.

“You’re fighting because of the mere fact that you’re attracted to me?” she said, frowning. “What right does he have to tell you what you must feel towards me? I don’t mind it at all if you want me…I’ve got to have a word with him again…”

“Please, you don’t have to – I don’t know how he’ll take it…”

Hermione, in a rare form of delayed reaction for the brightest witch of her age, then snapped into realization what she had just heard Harry say. She stared straightly at the space in front of her for a good couple of minutes. She, then at last, gathered the strength to gaze back at him very slowly even as her mind kept absorbing the impact of his revelation.

Hermione shifted on her seat awkwardly, and breathed in deeply like she was preparing to ask a very difficult question. “Harry…Do you really…?” She glanced at Harry expectantly, but he didn’t see the look on her face.

Harry stared straightly at the space in front of him. This was the exact condition that he had wished for some time to really tell her what he felt for her, but ironically, something was holding him back now, and sadly he didn’t know what it was. Things were getting too fast for his mind (and to some degree, his heart) to process at the very moment. He thought he’d still needed time to think it over. He’d pour out himself to Hermione right now, but he thought he had to resolve everything first before he’ll commit himself to a relationship with her.

Above all, was he thinking right?

Harry, with much difficulty, now looked at Hermione straight at her widened brown eyes. Her face revealed that she wanted something positive, the very first sign he ever had that Hermione might be open to a relationship, not like his fears of being slapped across the face when he’d raise the subject. Opportunity knocked on his noggin at the moment, but this time he now felt afraid - afraid of wrecking the five-year old friendship he had with her if their romance didn’t work (before he had just thought that letting her know about it would already wreck their friendship, but Harry had gone to another step in the process). How would they relate to each other then, if that happened? He again saw this on TV so many times – former couples going on with their lives apart from each other. They usually forgot about each other, and when they met again, it always turned ugly. He didn’t want that to happen to them at all. Perhaps TV mirrored real life, he wasn’t quite sure.

Now, Harry asked himself, why was he always this so negative? It seemed that he was gradually losing control of his former self – his optimistic side. It’s just wasn’t like him at all. Just when did this start at all? His mind was buzzing wildly.

He now had to choose between confirming it or by just lying about it by saying “No, I don’t have the hots for you, Hermione,” but he knew she’d be positively insulted right there and then. He would have lost the chance to get much closer to her forever because she’d be so angry with him she won’t even say his name anymore.

“Maybe I could just play it safe and dip my toe on the water first and see what happens…no too quick…” he thought.

It just came to him automatically:

He gave her a slight smile, keeping his green eyes locked to her brown ones. It was a smile that spoke a thousand words, but at the same time, it seemed that it was void of any definite meaning. Hermione breathed and stared at Harry. She ran her eyes around his face; he looked very handsome to her at the very moment he wore that little smile. Instead of getting what he meant by that, however, she became more confused. She didn’t know what Harry’s answer was. Was he confirming what Ron said was true? Was he just flattered about it, or was he just teasing her?

Pop! POP!

“Tis getting too quiet, oy, mate?” Fred laughed beside George and slapping Harry and Hermione’s shoulders from behind, startling them both and making them scream.

“Fred – were you listening to…” Harry started furiously after realizing it was the twins. He and Hermione instantly went pale with embarrassment.

“Of course, not!” George said severely, acting scandalized. “We just apparated in to tell you Sirius is looking for you!”

“Sirius is here?” Harry said happily, standing up at once and looked around the garden for any sign of him.

“Hang on a minute!” said Hermione, regaining the color on her cheeks. “You two know how to apparate already?”

“Do we look splinched to you, Hermione?” Fred said, faking annoyance. “Oh, wait, I think I have George’s face by mistake.”

Harry laughed and Hermione followed on shortly.

“Hermione,” Harry said uncertainly, “sorry if this was cut short, but if it’s okay…”

“Oh, of course, Harry,” she replied, doing her best to hide the disappointment from her voice (she failed). “By all means – he’s your godfather! Get going! Go on!” She then forced a smile, which Harry returned.

“Hermione – sorry if I…”

“No, it’s okay…really,” she said with another forced grin. “Another time, maybe…”

Harry waved at her gently as he walked off and she waved back, too, looking dreamily ahead of him. It was refreshing to know for Harry that Hermione didn’t object if he was romantically interested with her, thanks to the slip of her tongue.

It was sadly another missed chance for Harry to really let her know how he felt for her (it was getting more and more frequent, though), but he finally decided this wasn’t the time for it yet, unfortunately. It was hard for him to admit it, but Ron was right. After thinking under much pressure, he resolved it was of the utmost importance to reconstitute the trio first - only then would Ron start to accept he could not stop him and Hermione from going steady. Of course, this wasn’t the only motive why Harry wanted to make peace with Ron as soon as possible. The bond was essential for their survival against Voldemort, too, like Dumbledore had told him countless times.

The problem was how and when would stop being too selfish and wake up to reality?

-o0o-

Harry was happy to see Sirius back from wherever he came from. They met at the attic of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, which Buckbeak the Hippogriff inherited as his room. The attic was the perfect place to be for Buckbeak because of its floor to ceiling window where he could just slip in and out when he fancied (as long as it was at night).

“Where’ve you been?” Harry said happily, going into a hug with Sirius. “When I got out after meeting Dumbledore, you were already gone.”

“I had to go somewhere, Harry, sorry,” Sirius replied. He pulled out a bag full of dead rats for Buckbeak. “Want some?” he grinned.

Harry just pinched his nose and crossed his eyes.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but since you’re my only family now…” said Sirius, pulling out a dead rat from the bag and feeding it to Buckbeak, “Dumbledore asked me to take a look at what’s going on in Hogwarts.”

“Wow, you’ve been at Hogwarts? But..but that’s dangerous! What if you got caught?”

Instead of appreciating Harry’s concern for his safety, Sirius breathed and stared on ahead sadly. “I thought you’d be happy I was allowed to get out of this rotten place after being virtually imprisoned here for ages since Dumbledore accepted this house for the Order…”

“But I am – only that I don’t want you hurt out there without me…”

Sirius smiled this time. “Sorry about that, Harry, but I’m glad to know you really care.”

“Like you said, we’re the only ones left in this family.” Harry dusted off the floor beneath him and sat down. “So what’s going on in Hogwarts now, Sirius?”

“It’s quite peaceful there, actually. Too peaceful. Hagrid thought he’d adopt me as a dog because it was extremely lonely and quiet for him out there. I declined at once – you’ll never know how I hate it when his Boarhound always got in position behind me.”

Harry laughed for a long time, and Sirius went along with him.

“The people I was supposed to watch, Fudge’s men, have already arrived at Hogwarts two days ago,” divulged Sirius. Feeling Buckbeak’s impatience to taste another dead rat, he threw another one at him. “I counted about fifteen, there could be more, and they aren’t a friendly lot from how I look at them.”

“They’re there already?” said Harry, frowning. “But it’s still a few days away when we go back to school.”

“Yeah, but I think they needed to study the Hogwarts grounds very well for whatever purpose they might be in for. Probably they wanted to know where the possible hiding places are.”

“Do you recognize any of them, Sirius?”

“Not one, I’m afraid,” Sirius sighed. “I’ve been in Azkaban for too long. I won’t give them my full confidence that one of them is clean. I’ve asked Dumbledore to allow me to stay at Hogwarts and look after you when you go back. I can’t accept being stuck here and not doing at least something to help keep you safe.”

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing, he just kept quiet about it, which maddens me a lot. He probably thinks I can’t take care of myself out there – I feel like being treated like a little boy younger than you…”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want you to get hurt or something.”

“I don’t care what happens to me!” Sirius growled, making Harry jerk back a little out of surprise. “We share the same concerns for you, and here I am, an Animagus, a very capable wizard who isn’t afraid of Voldemort, cooped up in the attic with a Hippogriff most of the time. He should be grateful to be relieved of some burden trying to protect you, but I feel like a liability instead of a good asset…” Sirius paused for a while and sighed. “Great, now I sound like a brat!”

“I know how you feel, Sirius,” soothed Harry, and patting his shoulder. “I think you just need to ask him more than once – I think if you try enough he’ll give in, but I’m also guilty of worrying about you being out there in the open…” Harry said that with an uneasy smile, hoping Sirius wouldn’t get offended with the belief he shared with Dumbledore about him being much safer when he’d stay in Grimmauld.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that”

“But you don’t have to…”

“C’mon, Harry! I could use some excitement,” Sirius said, now laughing. “Nobody knows I’m a lovable dog except you, your friends, the Weasleys, and Dumbledore – well, Snape, too after what happened last year.”

“Tell you what, we’ll just worry about each other in Hogwarts and I think we’re even. But if Dumbledore’s against it, I really have to ask you to obey him…”

“Yes, sir, Harry, sir!” said Sirius sarcastically, which Harry didn’t mind as long as he expressed what he wanted his godfather to do. They both fell silent, watching Buckbeak smooth his feathers with his beak.

“I’ve heard about your escapade at Xanthius, Harry,” Sirius said a little later, steering away from the last subject. “All I can say is that I’m extremely impressed – and proud of you. I bet no one’s supposed to ever get out of there.”

Harry smiled. “Well, if it weren’t for Hermione and her dragon, we wouldn’t’ve.”

“Yes, that was a fortunate coincidence she found a dragon that you’re said to have been acquainted with,” Sirius laughed softly. “But it may not have happened if you haven’t stood your ground against Voldemort, too. James and Lily would have been so proud of you if they were alive today.”

“Yeah, and then I’d get grounded for a lifetime after that,” Harry joked and Sirius laughed.

“It’s always a great blessing when you have very faithful friends, like I had,” Sirius sighed. “I do admire the friendship you’re sharing with Ron and Hermione. James also valued his friends above all else, but you know the story about the feat of our other former friend that separated all of us up in just one night…”

Upon hearing that, Harry felt instantly guilty. Sirius had noticed this at once.

“Anything wrong with what I said?”

“Oh, no, it’s perfectly okay, but…” he hesitated, “there’s something that happened between us when you were away…” Harry was now glad he had someone to share about to ease the burden he had carried on his shoulders during the last few days. He told Sirius about his attraction to Hermione and how Ron had handled it lately. He also told Sirius about his decision to defer his intimate desires with Hermione for the sake of the trio.

Sirius smiled slightly, looked at Harry a little more, and said, “I see nothing wrong with your feelings – one of you had a good chance to get attracted to Hermione, after all the joys and pain that you shared with each other these years. It’s not because I’m you’re Godfather and I’d always side with you, Harry, but I agree Ron had over reacted. He got too mad he forgot about what you and Hermione did for him all these years.” Sirius sighed again. “Worse, he did something that was unacceptable, you know, like bugging your conversation with Hermione…I don’t like that thing either.”

“So do you think I should ignore him from now on and just go on and do what I want?”

“No, Harry.” Sirius put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and said, “Harry, it’s a noble thing you did, setting aside your personal desires temporarily for Hermione for the sake of the trio, as you call it. If you ask me, since I know what you’ve been through together, I’d try to make friends with him again. But you must still try to make him realize what he did was wrong about the eavesdropping thing, well, without losing some of your teeth. He can’t control your and Hermione’s life by being a spoiled brat. He should also learn how to respect you, as much as you respect him.”

“I’ve been thinking of the same thing,” Harry said. “I might forgive him for eavesdropping, but I admit it’s easier said than done. He might just want to be angry with me for some time. Knowing him, when he realizes he erred at the first place, he won’t readily admit it…”

“That’s the difference of making an enemy out of your best friend. It’s very humbling when you say you’re sorry. The best condition for reconciling would be he’ll say sorry and you say sorry, too. You’re even. Just try to have a talk with him if you can…if you don’t succeed at first, give him some time before trying to talk with him again. He’ll give in eventually, though I don’t want you to become the martyr or something…bad precedent, I say!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry exhaled and stood up from the floor. “I got to go and clean up - see you around, Sirius…” He started on his way towards the door and reached for the knob.

“Harry…”

“Yes?” Harry said, looking back at Sirius.

“If we don’t see each other after this before you leave back for Hogwarts,” Sirius said slowly, not facing Harry, “I have a package for you on your bed. Open and use it to call me if you need me…and I’ll be there for you as fast as I can.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Thanks.”

He got out of the door and headed downstairs towards his room. He didn’t know what was inside the package, but if it was something that would put Sirius in extreme danger by going to his rescue if he got into deep trouble, he knew he wouldn’t try to use it.

-o0o-

Harry had tried twice to talk with Ron about their problem towards the last day of their Christmas vacation, but each time he did he was angrily rebuffed. Harry heeded Sirius’ advice about giving it more time before he’d try to talk to him again, but Harry felt this has emboldened Ron even more to refuse any conversation with him, and as a result, made him even madder with Ron. Ron might have felt he was gaining the upper hand in their civil war because of his reconciliatory moves, which was a bad thing, Harry thought.

Worse, Ron was also mad at Hermione for still going alone with Harry most the time, which also made her extremely angry with him.

“Do you know what Ron wants me to do?” Hermione exploded over lunch with Harry one day.

“No,” Harry said, forgetting to swallow his soup, dripping some off to his chest. “Why, what did he say?” He took out a napkin to wipe the stain on his shirt.

“He wants to me to stop talking to you, too, can you believe it?!? He doesn’t want to see us both together anymore!”

“Really. Well, I can’t stop you if you…”

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Hermione cut Harry off. “He refuses to even see your face. Naturally I’d be the only friend you have right now while he’s on a tantrum that I’m the only one you feel at ease talking to! If he keeps telling me to keep away from you and telling me what to do like a king, he’ll find out who’s without friends someday! Oh, he’s got the nerve…”

“Hermione, you could still afford to be patient with Ron – I think he’s just too confused right now.”

Hermione snorted. “He’s not being confused, Harry. He’s being a selfish oaf and a total jerk! One more word from him like that and I don’t want to speak to him ever again!”

Ron did confront Hermione again, to his dismay. She read all of her course books just before going back to Hogwarts just to forget about Ron completely. Ron, meanwhile, found a good reason to bond even more with his brothers and Ginny, the only people who seemed to look indifferent to what was going on between Harry, Hermione, and him. Not that they didn’t actually care; they were very tired of Ron’s nightly talk with them about how sneaky Harry and Hermione was.

The night before they all went back to Hogwarts, Harry had received another letter from Russelpunk (Harry had asked Dumbledore to give his letter to Russelpunk during one of his trips to and from Hogwarts and he got a reply when Dumbledore had come back).

“He says he’s okay and he had not been sending letters to me all Christmas,” Harry said as Hermione looked over his shoulder to read the letter, too, in Harry’s room. “But he’s eager to see us when we get back. He says he has a lot of questions to ask us…”

“Then from whom were those letters the owls were carrying for?” asked Hermione. For days they had counted at least ten owls just flying around in circles, failing to deliver the letters to their recipients.

“I don’t know,” Harry said thinking and placing the letter back to its envelope. “Could it be for Dumbledore from Fudge?”

“Possibly, but Dumbledore goes back and forth from here to Hogwarts everyday, doesn’t he? He could get his letters from there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry realized. “How about Viktor Krum?”

Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable hearing Harry say Krum’s name, though he mentioned him very casually.

“I think I’ll find out if he was writing as soon as we get back to Hogwarts,” she said quickly. Hermione sat on the center of what used to be Ron’s bed and pretended to inspect her toenails.

“Yeah, please do find out, will you?” said Harry, not sounding upset with a well-disguised tone of voice. Harry now felt upset each time he heard Krum’s name even from himself, though he usually succeeded in acting being relaxed about it. “I don’t know why I feel something’s wrong about those owls…”

“It probably happens with other witches or wizards living in a place subjected to a Fidelius Charm, too,” Hermione theorized absently. “It’s only the first time we’ve seen it, I think that’s why you feel something’s wrong.”

“Ah, maybe you’re right,” Harry muttered, finally deciding to pack up his belongings after a few days of putting it off. Harry took a look back at Hermione, who was still on Ron’s bed but now deep in thought.

“Hermione, how’re your headaches?” he asked carefully.

“Oh, I still get them one to three times a day, so I haven’t stopped my medication. Why?”

Harry didn’t answer at once, though this was one of the things he wanted to talk to her about. Madam Pomfrey would’ve disagreed with him, but he strongly felt Hermione needed to know what was happening to her. They were going back to Hogwarts the next day and he didn’t want Hermione to look silly in front of everybody when her memory lapses attacked in public, especially to Draco would be unbearable to her then. She had to be aware of it, and maybe he could help her through it while it lasts. So he told her everything.

Hermione became anxious when she learned about her real condition. Like Madam Pomfrey had predicted, she didn’t seem to be concerned about her health but her chances to top the upcoming O.W.L.s when she could forget about what she studied for.

“Harry, this is terrible!” she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I kept wondering why I felt I’d read some books more than once already…”

“Madam Pomfrey didn’t want us to…she said it didn’t hurt you if you didn’t know about it, but I quite disagree.”

“No wonder the days felt shorter than normal for me sometimes,” she said, holding her head with both her hands and looking fretful. “Did she say I’m demented?”

“No, of course not, she said it’ll only be for weeks or a month,” he replied, and then he felt he had made a mistake telling her about it. “Hermione, please, you must understand. I’m sorry I had to bring this up to you, but I thought you had to know despite Madam Pomfrey’s warnings…”

“Harry, don’t worry, it’s okay! I’m really glad you told me…you’re right. I thank you for it. Look at it this way - how can I help myself recover from this problem when I don’t even know I have a problem, right?”

Harry glanced sideways and nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Then I think it’s best you should see Madam Pomfrey as soon as we get back to Hogwarts. Have her look at you, you know. I’ll go with you if you want.”

“Of course, thanks,” Hermione said, smiling but looking anxious still. “Merlin’s beard – what if I forget what I learned in the classroom, it’d be like being not in class at all! What if the lessons turned out in the exam?” she wailed. “What if I didn’t notice it all? Harry, will you do something for me?”

“Sure. What?”

“Please let me know when it attacks. I’ll ask you what happened before then, I might be able to recall it. I could try.”

“Of course…but you know it upsets me each time I know it happens,” Harry said, which made Hermione smile in appreciation for his concern again. “I just don’t know how that would help you with your upcoming tasks at Hogwarts.”

“You mean what Dumbledore and Olga want me to do there? I don’t think it’ll be a problem, Harry. I’ll just be telling them what I heard that’s suspicious, that’s all. I can’t tell them what I don’t remember, right?”

“Maybe, but what if…”

Hermione waited for Harry to finish his sentence, but he just fell silent. “Yes, Harry?”

“Oh, nothing, I’m just being a little paranoid,” he said finally, laughing a bit, but his face failed to hide his anxiety.

Hermione smiled, reached for his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. Harry nodded in response and pursed his lips – he frantically thought of a way to do something to take his mind off Hermione or else he’d be kissing her in two minutes, counting.

He let go of Hermione’s hand as gently as he could and started to rearrange the folded clothes he had already put in his suitcase (it definitely didn’t need any rearranging at all). A picture of him, Ron, and Hermione taken during their second year fell out. Harry frowned, picked it up, and buried it deeper in the stack of clothes out of disgust.

“If you don’t want to be friends with us anymore, I don’t care!” Harry thought angrily.

Harry was so upset that he didn’t feel Hermione was already at the door. “Harry,” Hermione said, “I think I should go back to my room before Mrs. Weasley finds me here alone with you…it’ll get ugly when she does!” She peeked out of the corridor and when she saw it was clear, she moved stealthily but briskly towards her room.

“See you tomorrow,” Harry whispered, “and thanks for seeing me.” Hermione nodded at him anxiously, imploring to Harry to keep his voice down. Just as soon as she entered her room and closed the door as quietly as she could, Mrs. Weasley’s door started opening. Harry quickly closed his, and dove towards his bed, ready to pretend to be asleep if Molly checked up on him.

-o0o-

Arthur and Tonks were to escort Harry and the rest of the Hogwarts students in Grimmauld back to school the next day. Ron wasn’t still speaking to Harry and Hermione when they ate breakfast together, which was very awkward for them in front of everybody else.

Harry had noticed that Mrs. Weasley was looking non-enthusiastically towards Hermione, and to some degree, at him, too. He didn’t have to wonder why at all. Last year, she had also been cold towards Hermione when the rumor of her being Harry’s girlfriend surfaced in the Daily Prophet, and Harry believed that Ron had already told his mum about the reason why they were fighting. Harry didn’t want to predict how bad Molly would treat Hermione if they became more than just friends. It wasn’t very comforting at all this early.

Harry gazed at Hermione, who was at the same snatching glances timidly towards Molly. She had noticed Molly’s coolness towards her, too. Harry felt sorry for Hermione, and stirred his porridge pensively while he blamed himself for probably causing this to her. He had assured Molly before the Triwizard Tournament that Hermione wasn’t his girlfriend, but things have changed quickly in a year. It was hard to accept for Harry that he had caused a lot of ill feelings between the people he knew and cared because of his ever-growing attraction to Hermione, and this was the prime reason he now had second thoughts about pursuing it. He felt bad about that, because it meant he couldn’t decide on his own what to do for his life because he slightly feared what other people might think about it, though he knew this wasn’t healthy, too…

It was like “me and Hermione against the world” for him, though for the Weasley’s world for now. But wasn’t that often the reason how couples’ relationships get even stronger when they encounter strong opposition? Harry didn’t know what to think – things were getting more and more confusing.

At least Harry’s godfather showed opposite treatment towards him unlike Molly’s: when Sirius said goodbye to everyone he made sure Molly and Ron saw him drag Harry and Hermione together into a long three-way hug and kiss them. As for Ron, Sirius merely looked and nodded at him curtly without saying a word, leaving Ron in the middle of the floor feeling uneasy. It was refreshing for Harry to be reminded that Sirius was behind him and at least Ron also knew how it felt like when a person he respected turned cool against him, like they were experiencing with Molly now.

Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t change his treatment towards everybody even though Molly had told him Ron was angry with Harry and Hermione. He happily escorted all the Hogwarts students in Grimmauld back to school with Tonks by chartering the Knight Bus under Dumbledore’s instructions. After Harry had taken his seat, he remembered that when he came to Grimmauld in the Knight Bus from the Burrow, he spent the whole trip on the top deck alone with Ron because he thought Hermione was angry with them both. Now, it was actually the opposite. Ironically, he and Hermione were now alone together at the top deck because Ron was angry with them both.

Hermione knew what was preoccupying Harry’s mind when he sat silently on the front row of the bus, watching the light poles giving way for the bus and said, “Don’t worry about how Mrs. Weasley looks at me, Harry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of her subtle messages about any hint of romance and chose to keep quiet because he felt his heart would go under another tug-of-war.

After a few hours they reached the Hogwarts gates at the same time as the rest of the school had arrived from Hogsmeade. There were a couple of wizards Harry didn’t know who looked like they were guarding the gate. Upon seeing them disembark the Knight Bus, the new wizards approached them.

“Why didn’t you come in the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the school, boy?” one of them inquired Harry while he helped Hermione with her luggage. The wizard was half a head taller than him, had a white and cleanly cropped head of hair, and was wearing dark sunglasses and a trenchcoat. He looked like a politician’s security detail than a wizard. The only thing missing was a clear coil of cable just behind his ears.

“Uh,” Harry started, but Arthur had moved to his front.

“Hello, Horace,” said Arthur coolly. “Finally decided to soak your shoes today with the mud, have you? Quite a departure from your usual clean office back at the bureau…”

So this was Horace Whipple, Fudge’s appointed administrator for Hogwarts security as they liked to call it, Harry thought. The problem was, Fudge didn’t believe Horace was a probable Death Eater also serving Voldemort like Olga had said. Harry and Hermione readily hated him. They surmised Horace wasn’t supposed to man this post, but to lay in wait to make sure they met.

“Hello yourself, Arthur,” Horace said directly. “Do you realize they have violated, uh, Section 23 of the, uh, Second Article of the Revised Hogwarts Security Code, which states all students are required to use the Hogwarts Express in order to go to and leave the premises? I had the impression that you really think that they would be attacked by – Death Eaters - since nothing is safer than taking the train. You don’t want Minister Fudge to know about this, do you? ”

Harry glared at Horace sharply. How dare he mock Mr. Weasley about having Death Eaters at Hogwarts when he himself could be one?

Arthur simply took out a thick book from his bag, which was the only thing that it carried, and waved it in front of Horace’s face.

“You mean, this, Horace?” Arthur said, unfazed with his challenge and ignoring Horace’s statement about his boss, Cornelius Fudge. “The same so-called revised code states that any person in authority of Hogwarts have the right to designate the most practical and efficient means of transportation for the students aside from the Hogwarts Express in special circumstances. As Albus Dumbledore is the top authority of Hogwarts, he cleared Harry Potter and his friends here of using the Knight Bus, in this special circumstance, which is as safe and secure as the Hogwarts Express itself. Section 71! Read about it if you want.” He handed Horace the book.

Horace, however, just looked on ahead statuesquely.

Arthur didn’t wait for any more argument coming from Horace and said, “Come along now, everybody. I’m sure you’re all famished because of the trip…”

They passed by the stone-faced Horace without saying any word and walked up the stone steps towards the Hogwarts castle. Ron obviously avoided Harry and Hermione by walking alongside the twins a few yards behind.

Halfway towards the entrance, Hermione said, “Wow, Mr. Weasley, you really did your homework, huh?” She pointed at the thick book Mr. Weasley was lugging and was impressed at his excellent memory.

Arthur looked flattered. “I was hoping I didn’t ever need to say a single word to him at all because he’s a Death Eater, Hermione,” he replied, “but he forced me by slamming a student, especially Harry, with a quick charge. Imagine - you all just got here and he’s already making accusations!”

Hermione nodded. “I haven’t seen that book on the new code before, do you have another copy of it somewhere, Mr. Weasley, because I’d like to borrow and study it. I’d like to know about this so-called code.”

“Sure, Hermione,” Arthur said, grinning. “You can have this book. It’s yours.”

“Thanks!” Hermione said happily. She didn’t open to read it all at once like she always did when she was handed an interesting new book, and just carried it beside her as she walked up further the steps.

Harry caught a glimpse of the book’s faded title printed along its spine, which read “The Ultimate Guide for Magical Bird Watchers by Forsythe Fowl” and suppressed his laughter. Mr. Weasley had made up his own argument front of Horace, who apparently didn’t know everything about this so-called Security code he brought into play. Harry also couldn’t help but imagine the look on Hermione’s face tonight when she opened the book. He laughed at last, bringing out a puzzled face from her. Arthur just walked serenely along with them.

Further up the stone steps Harry saw more patrolling wizards who had the same features as Horace. They all wore standardized haircuts and get ups, and Harry could not help but feel queasy at the stomach. This just didn’t feel right for him, like Hogwarts was under some kind of authoritarian rule, minus the Muggle tanks and guns. He wasn’t alone – most of the students looked apprehensive with the new security measures designed to stifle any dissent against Fudge.

But he knew that it wasn’t the only reason why they were here. Knowing that Lucius had a hand with the selection of Ministry Wizards sent to Hogwarts, they were here for some sinister reason. Either if it was for Hogwart’s weakening in preparation for Voldemort’s possible attack, or all of these were elaborate preparations for mainly finding the right conditions to snatch him for Voldemort. Harry didn’t think they needed to bother. They could just get him anytime they wanted.

“Mr. Weasley,” Harry hissed, “can’t Dumbledore really do anything to kick them all out of here? They’re actually the threat rather than the…”

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” Mr. Weasley replied regretfully, feeling the urgency to answer Harry’s question before they get within earshot of the wizards. Hermione was also listening in. “Fudge had all the legal bases covered, and Dumbledore’s only responsibility is to oversee and issue directives for the academics and sports of this school.”

Harry and Hermione groaned.

“I’m begging you to be very extra vigilant, Harry and Hermione,” Mr. Weasley continued, now stopping to talk a little longer. (Ron also stopped but a few yards away from them, and looking stern). “Be wary of their intentions, but at the same time, don’t make your studies suffer. You need to keep learning what you can while the school year lasts. I know it’s difficult to concentrate when you keep looking what’s behind you. Please don’t be reckless or careless. They’re here for…”

“Move along, now,” said one of the Ministry Wizards, who had approached them while they were busy talking. “No huddling for more than three people. You can read that rule posted at the main bulletin board. Sir, if you intend to enter the castle, you need to secure an appointment with the Administrator. Thank you.”

Mr. Weasley didn’t say anything, and just shook hands with Harry and kissed Hermione. “That’s one of the rules, too,” Mr. Weasley said, sighing. “We’ll try to keep checking on you as much as we can, and be extra, extra careful Hermione – and especially you, Harry.”

They both nodded and Mr. Weasley walked over to Ron, the twins, and Ginny to say goodbye to them all with a hug. When Ron had broken away from his dad, Harry and Hermione had met his eyes, but he looked at them very coolly and went off towards the castle as if his best friends were strangers.

“C’mon, Hermione, let’s have something to eat…” Harry said sadly, looking at the back of Ron, who was now way ahead of them. “I can’t help but think we’re gonna just have to rely on ourselves without Ron, just to survive whatever’s coming with all these Death Eaters walking loose.”

“Yeah, we’ll watch each other’s backs whatever it takes, right Harry?” she replied anxiously, and on instinct they just went into a friendly and reassuring embrace, which fortunately Ron had not noticed otherwise he would have misinterpreted it again to fuel his new obsession. “It’s the first time I’m feeling scared about all this – I thought I won’t…until now.”

They looked around. The sight of more wizards had an ominous feeling for him and Hermione. The last time that Death Eaters were in Hogwarts was a few weeks ago, and for Hermione it was nothing like compared to this. They knew they had to expect a much difficult time for them in the days and weeks ahead. Hermione felt an odd feeling that the Wizards would just manifest themselves finally as Death Eaters whenever they wanted and surround both her and Harry for whatever purpose they were sent here for. They now shared the mutual duty of looking after each other in these dangerous times.

Harry and Hermione knew the trio would have been their best chance for protection against the threat of the Death Eaters, now more than ever. Unfortunately, Ron now didn’t seem to appreciate that any longer.

-o0o-

(This is simply the longest chapter yet. I hope this chapter wasn’t too long!)

Next Chapter will be posted as soon as it’s ready…please keep checking back for updates. Thanks.

12. State of Emergency

Author’s note: I’m releasing this chapter in its raw format, meaning this hasn’t been edited yet and may contain errors, which I will eventually fix. I’ve decided to do this because I didn’t want readers to wait for the next chapters longer than necessary, as what has happened. I just didn’t have the leisure to keep writing for some time because of the demands of my job, (groan) but I hope things will change in this week and I’ll find the time to dedicate writing…

Sorry for the long delay, folks! Thank you. I’ll try to be prompt next time.

Thanks, PottersPrincess, for your review.

Update: This chapter has now been fixed of errors.

Chapter 11

State of Emergency

The annual post-New Year’s feast usually generated excitement among the student body of Hogwarts each year when they came back from their holidays. It was intended to lessen the post-Christmas blues for those who still wished it wasn’t school yet, but since almost all of the students had not known about Cornelius Fudge’s real purpose of sending in wizards from the Ministry to provide security to Hogwarts, the feeling throughout the Great Hall for the evening was of confusion and anxiety. Harry and Hermione could tell what was going on in their schoolmates’ minds right now by merely looking at their faces.

Nobody seemed keen to smile tonight, except of course Draco and his cronies, which was not at all surprising. Almost everyone was talking in hushed voices, most likely discussing their theories about why these stern-looking wizards wearing sunglasses at night and having uniform haircuts and coats were here, who were looking snappy at attention and standing against the walls of the Great Hall. Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts teachers were seated around the teachers’ table. Neither of them was smiling nor were they talking to each other. They just scanned the Hall with their eyes while they ate their dinner. Only Professor Russelpunk kept turning his head to look around. He had obviously no clue what was going on.

“Happy homecoming, it is,” said Harry sarcastically over his uneaten supper. “What a way to start the New Year!” The tables were overflowing with well-prepared and decorated food, but he didn’t have the appetite. Hermione was hungry, although she ate slower than her usual manner, which was already slow to begin with. Most students, however, were distracted by the delectable dishes arrayed in front of them and seemed to only mind their stomachs and ate away anyway especially Ron, who was talking to Lee Jordan with his mouth full.

“Those wizards’re keep giving me the creeps,” Hermione shuddered, looking around. “Especially Malfoy – he’s been looking at you all evening!”

Harry gave Draco a quick look, who was staring back at him like he was the king of the world.

“What’re you looking at?” Harry mouthed at him, scowling. Draco appeared to have gotten more enjoyment out of it and smirked even wider. Harry felt Hermione’s hand grasp his arm.

Still feeling angry with Draco, Harry snapped his head at Hermione. “What?” he growled.

“What did you do that for?” she hissed. “You should have just looked away after you saw him. He now thinks he’s getting on your mind…”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me about Draco in the first place, Hermione,” Harry said touchily, and angrily tossed his dinner around on his plate.

“You’re welcome,” she said, a little hurt. But after a few moments of awkward silence between the two of them, Hermione smiled and said, “You know you look cute when you’re angry…”

Harry didn’t fully catch what she said, and slowly looked back at her. “What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing,” Hermione said quickly, and offered him a spoonful of mashed potatoes, which he declined.

“Oh, c’mon, Harry, you need to eat – I don’t remember you putting something on your mouth the whole afternoon, you’ll starve tonight!”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry said flatly, and pushed his plate away from him. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry felt a strong sense of unease brought about by the presence of the wizards tonight. Their physical presence didn’t bother him more than not knowing what their true intentions were for invading Hogwarts like this. A part of Harry refused to believe they were there for the sole purpose of kidnapping him for Voldemort. They could just as well snatch him right now in front of everybody if they wanted to. What was it were they waiting for?

Oh - Dumbledore. They couldn’t do it while he was around. But earlier the wizards had met him at the grounds, and it was their perfect opportunity and they didn’t strike. It didn’t make sense to Harry at all. There was probably another reason why they were here, and he was almost sure it was to try to weaken Hogwarts again after their last foiled attempt.

As soon as everyone had finished eating their desserts, the sound of talk died down when the students saw Dumbledore rise up from his chair and motioned to everyone for their attention.

“Students and Faculty,” he started speaking, “I welcome you back to Hogwarts after an - exciting – Christmas. I do hope you found your vacation peaceful, despite some significant events during that time that you may be aware of or not…”

Harry surmised Dumbledore was being cryptic, trying to feel if anyone was aware of the attacks that happened during the holidays after the initial murders. He looked around, and saw that almost nobody reacted to Dumbledore’s statement (only the Weasleys scanned the Great Hall with their eyes to observe everybody else), meaning that the Ministry of Magic had miraculously managed to keep the attacks under wraps. How, Harry had no idea, but they succeeded.

“As you have noticed, we have some wizards sent in by the current Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who will be stationed at the school indefinitely. I find it unnecessary for my part to tell you their purpose of being here, as the head of the contingent, Horace Whipple from the Ministry, has asked for some time to address the school to explain why they are here. So, I give the floor to Horace Whipple…”

Dumbledore gave Whipple, who was standing at the Great Hall’s entrance, a courteous wave towards the podium at the center-front of the Hallway, and the wizard walked towards it silently. Nobody had thought of clapping their hands, and all everyone could hear was the thundering snaps of Whipple’s boots as he walked the central aisle. He had reached the podium and faced the student body, not bothering to remove his dark sunglasses and starting his speech with some lengthy introduction. He chose to go straight to the point.

“Good evening. We’ve been sent here by Minister Fudge to oversee security for Hogwarts. Of course, we’re not here because of some people’s wild imagination that He-Who-Must-Be-Named has returned, which, I assure you, is truly a lie. However, there is unrest among the wizard populace who are divided between believing such rumors of the Dark Lord’s return and not, and we have reliable information since before your vacation, that some groups are seeking to overthrow the present wizard government headed by Minister Fudge through violent means because they believe the Minister is not doing anything at all to address the ‘problem’ of the Dark Lord’s supposed return.”

Hermione faced and Harry and hissed, “Now that’s something new…nobody, not even Dumbledore had mentioned of any coup plots…”

“Because of the looming crisis of imminent dissent that is brewing in our society, the Minister of Magic has declared a state of emergency for fifteen to thirty days starting tomorrow, which was approved unanimously by the governing council. The reason for the declaration of this state will be published on the Daily Prophet tomorrow, and everybody here will be receiving his own free copy, courtesy of the Ministry.”

Excited and nervous talk rang throughout the Great Hall. A state of emergency meant that the Ministry of Magic could just arrest anyone in suspicion of something, and Harry and Hermione knew this was not declared because of Voldemort’s return, but just to save Fudge’s own butt. Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers looked grim. Fudge apparently was getting mad of his power as Minister of Magic, and he was beginning to get dictatorial.

Whipple didn’t wait for the talk to die down and returned to his speech.

“The Minister of Magic is working hard in his power to quash all these rumors, but rest assured, it is solely for the good of the Wizard World. Of course, as you know, such remarks in reference to Lord V-v-v-…You-Know-Who’s supposed return made by either influential or common folks like us can be very destabilizing, which is happening as we speak. Such rumors, however small, will be left to fester and will eventually become false fact if the Minister does nothing to stop it. It is a valid cause for the Wizard World to be plunged into chaos and anarchy if the destablilizers are left to foment revolution, taking advantage of the state of division among the populace brought about these rumors. The Minister recognizes the effects and consequences of inaction for the wizarding world and he hopes you appreciate the dangers, too.”

Harry heard Ron say, “I know the real danger – Fudge getting out of hand and expecting us to kiss his pinky ring soon!” For once, Harry silently agreed with Ron, even though they weren’t back into speaking terms.

“…I know that some of you are too young to understand the seriousness of the present state of affairs in the wizard world, but the Ministry acknowledges the dangers of some opportunists who might share the sinister plans to topple the government to try to gain your support through your education. Therefore I urge you not to give in to them and if you think you are being brainwashed by anyone into joining up groups or to speak up against the Minister of Magic, and/or saying that You-Know-Who has actually returned, or spreading stories about the popular ‘Fortress of Evil’ as many call them, even if they are your teachers or classmates, to please report them immediately to any of the wizards wearing the same uniform as I am. We will act at once and arrest them. You will be given recognition for your contribution to the stability of the wizard world, and we will protect you from retribution from their supporters...”

“I bet Fudge coined that name, Fortress of Evil!” hissed Harry to Hermione, and she nodded back impatiently.

“We will stay here as long as necessary until the situation returns to normal or the Minister lifts the state of emergency. We have been given the power to issue rules and regulations to enforce any measures to prevent any form of dissent from happening within Hogwarts. I assure you this will only be temporary, and you have nothing to fear unless you are harboring desires to speak out against the Minister and his policies, or known to spread lies of You-Know-Who’s return, or are planning to form a group to fight against him. For starters, unless otherwise authorized, no one more than two must be seen together. Any group of three people will be considered a ‘faction’ and will be detained for questioning and possibly charged of organizing a rebellion.”

Harry looked back at Hermione and said, “Now that’s too much…” Hermione nodded her head again and watched Horace Whipple severely.

“Existing clubs are temporarily disbanded. Requests for reconstitution shall be entertained and will be considered in a case to case basis. However, all meetings of such approved groups will be monitored by a representative from our security contingent. Quidditch teams are exempt from the disbandment, but are not authorized to hold meetings without the presence of a security representative. All prefects will be deputized to enforce the rules, and they will have a meeting after this at the prefects’ conference room. Every student has the obligation to know the rules we will be issuing, and you are urged to check on the bulletin boards regularly to be aware of the new ones. Ignorance will not excuse anyone. Curfew hours start at nine in the evening up to six the next morning. Those serving detention must request for clearance cards and should wear them.”

Horace arrogantly didn’t thank Dumbledore of being given the opportunity to speak to the student body, and left the podium back to where he came from earlier. When Dumbledore spoke again, Harry detected unpleasantness in his voice.

“Classes will begin at the usual time tomorrow,” he said with a noticeable frown on his face. “Good evening to all…”

Harry could hear moaning and groaning from the students who were standing up from their chairs. What they apparently didn’t like was the two-person rule being imposed on them and they will surely miss the fun of being in a large group. But they had no choice but to follow the new rules – they didn’t know what the wizards will do to them if they didn’t. Harry initially thought at first that it was a blessing Ron wasn’t speaking to him and Hermione nowadays because he’d be having a hard time adjusting not being a trio, but it was such a bad thought in itself. He knew he’ll find it weird of not being a trio anymore, and he was sure Hermione was feeling the same way. At least, for the time being, they would be safe from this new rule.

Harry and Hermione didn’t stand up at once and chose to be among the last ones to leave the Great Hall. Remembering about Whipple’s remarks about deputizing prefects, he said, “Hermione, I hope you won’t love being one of them…” and pointed at one of the wizards.

“Are you kidding?” she said, looking shocked. “Now I’m beginning to hate being a prefect because of this – everybody might think we’re going to get power hungry…”

“Worse, Malfoy’s a prefect,” said Harry gloomily. “He’ll be unbearable!”

Just then, Professor McGonagall tapped her finger on Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh, sorry, Professor,” Harry said, startled. “We were just about to…”

“I’m not here to tell you off, Potter,” she interrupted. “We need to talk after this, regarding you detention. Meet me in my office after thirty minutes, okay?”

Harry nodded and she smiled, leaving Harry and Hermione behind.

“Well, I gotta go to the meeting, Harry,” Hermione said. “I don’t want to know what they’ll do to me if I’m late…take care!”

“Yeah, you, too. See you later,” Harry replied, and waved her goodbye gently. Hermione ran off through the slow-moving crowd trying to get out the Great Hall. Harry finally stood up after a moment and when he had almost reached the doors towards the corridors a little later, he heard some exasperated calls from wizards who were at a loss how to manage the flow of human traffic just clear of the Great Hall.

“Disperse! Disperse immediately!” said a wizard. “Remember the two-man rule!”

Harry suppressed a laugh. Naturally there would be a crowd when everyone wanted to get out of the Great Hall first. He was hoping that each new rule that they would make up will make it more stressful for the wizards to enforce. One thing that made Harry think he had made a mistake choosing to be among the last to get out was overhearing Zacharias Smith talk with his classmates.

“It’s a good thing Minister Fudge thought of this to plug the talk of some Dark Fortress,” Zacharias said pompously to the clearly miffed Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan. “All these rumors about it make me want to throw up – it’s getting out of hand! Especially from Potter – he thinks everybody wants to believe him…”

Harry didn’t know what caused Zacharias Smith to trip without any sign of obstruction around…he just felt extremely angry with him just at the same time. Zacharias grimaced in pain as he stood up and rubbed his two knees from hitting the floor.

Finally out in the corridor with nothing to do, Harry navigated himself towards McGonagall’s office for their meeting. He wondered what he’d be doing for detention and for how long. Just at the end of an adjacent hallway void of other students near the doors to the prefect’s conference room, he caught sight of Hermione’s recognizable back as she stood listening to a couple of wizards who were talking to her in private. Harry stopped at distance and watched them. Hermione kept on nodding while the wizards kept talking to her.

Harry scowled. “Now, what’re they telling her to do?” he thought.

Even though the wizards seemingly looked the same, Harry could still tell them apart from the others because of their facial features. The one with the nasty scar across his face, Harry named “Blinky”. The other with the gold eye patch, he christened as “Dinky”. Soon after, they ended their conversation with Hermione. One of wizards from the conference room had called them in – the meeting was about to start. Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione’s face as she turned to walk away from the wizards, and she appeared to look serious (she didn’t see Harry at the far end of the hallway). Hermione looked startled when the wizard from the room called her in again. She hurriedly entered the conference room looking embarrassed, and the door closed.

Harry sighed. He thought she was just feeling too uneasy being near around the strange wizards, like she had said so many times tonight, and she didn’t know how to act like herself and do her job like she used to. Or perhaps she was getting too edgy being aware of doing her little task for Olga and Dumbledore. If she kept on being like this, she’ll blow her cover even without batting an eyelash. Harry made a mental note to teach her how to relax and how to act like a real spy. Harry shrugged it off and walked towards McGonagall’s office.

The corridor near McGonagall’s office didn’t have a bench to sit on, and Harry’s feet began to ache with all the standing as he waited for the next few remaining minutes. He remembered that McGonagall had an ante-room in her office with some seats. His feet felt tired and he decided to get in and wait there instead of being outside the corridor. Silently, he opened the door and shut it, and chose one of the comfy chairs to sit on. He was glad he had remembered the chairs, because he felt relieved just as he sat on one. The door connecting McGonagall’s office was slightly open, and Harry could hear her talk to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore can’t be here…he thought.

“But that’s just terrible, Albus!” McGonagall wailed. “They can’t do this to her…and to the people we knew who could help us…”

“I’m afraid they had already sent out the warrants, Minerva,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Warrants? Who’s being arrested?” Harry asked himself. Intrigued, he tiptoed nearer towards the door to listen in much closely to the conversation.

“…This so called ‘State of Emergency’ is giving Cornelius a free hand to do what he wants. I’m certain that it’s not because he’d realized the truth of Voldemort’s return. It’s just to save his very own job. I can’t believe he’s turning out to be like this. He never told me he and the governing council have been mulling over such measures at all. I find Whipple’s announcement tonight quite shocking, to say the least. There is obviously an unseen hand behind this…”

“Lucius Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.

“Very much possible…”

“But why’s he doing this? Have you figured it out already?”

“Like I said before back in Grimmauld, it could be to snatch Harry out of our protection and bring him to Lord Voldemort. I find no other logical reason for all these elaborate efforts. He failed the first time to do him in even though Harry was already in their grasp, so it’s just natural they want to do it again without the Ministry’s suspicion. He deftly came out of his recent disgrace due to the Chadron case to regain Fudge’s full trust. I don’t know how he did it, but he succeeded and Fudge now doesn’t listen to anyone else other than Lucius…”

“Imperius Curse?”

Dumbledore paused for a moment and said, “Possibly, but not the most probable. It wouldn’t help Lucius at all if he chose to do the curse, because Fudge would then know what Lucius true intentions were when he’d be free of the Imperius Curse – it’s not always a constant thing to be under it. Think of Barty Crouch.”

“But to go through all the lengths just to get Harry,” McGonagall said, sounding incredulous, “there must be some other reason why they are all here…”

“Harry’s keen on that, too, actually,” replied Dumbledore calmly. “He thinks it’s to weaken Hogwarts to help Lord Voldemort destroy it. I think that’s a valid plot, too. Remember they also failed to do that the last time by knocking us both out of action for days – they may want to try again.”

“I guess that’s the real purpose why they’re so aggressive here, Albus. Harry’s abduction could only be secondary…”

“Or it’s the other way around, Minerva. Have you arranged for Harry’s bodyguard already?”

Bodyguard? Harry almost snorted, but luckily he had stifled it just in time. He didn’t know how Dumbledore could have forgotten what they talked about in Grimmauld.

“It’s proving to be difficult. All the teachers are too busy with their lesson plans, and Severus flatly refuses to be his nanny. I might request the Ministry for an extra wizard to do the job…”

“Too dangerous, Minerva,” Dumbledore interrupted. “The Ministry’s too infiltrated with Death Eaters, we don’t know who to trust. Lucius might know about this and influence Fudge with the selection of such a bodyguard. It would be a godsend for him, I’m sure, because it’ll make his job easier if his intentions are to get Harry. On the other hand, I know Fudge won’t permit it if he acted on his own conscience. It’ll look too intriguing especially from the press why Harry has to have his own bodyguard – he doesn’t want that to happen.”

“Okay, how about Kingsley?”

“I’ve thought of that, too,” Dumbledore sighed. “But Arthur needs all the help he could get from inside the Ministry. Pudmore has a lot on his hands at the moment. Besides, pulling out Kingsley or Podmore will blow their cover…”

“Just leave it to me to think of a way to keep a lookout for Harry, Albus,” McGonagall said resignedly. “But I don’t like the midnight warrants at all…”

“You’re not the only one. I can’t help but think who Fudge might want next, so let’s watch what we do and don’t do anything to give him some reason to arrest us. I’m sure he wants to get back at us after that unpleasant meeting here in my office…”

“I’ll share it to some of the teachers, Albus,” McGonagall breathed. “I think it’s time for my meeting with Harry – I expect he’ll be here any moment.”

“Not too harsh – just make sure he serves detention without exposing him to danger. You have my full trust, Minerva…”

Harry heard a popping noise and a chair being dragged on the floor. McGonagall might be standing up to get out. He hurriedly went back to the first door and pulled it open behind him, as if he had just come in. At the same moment, McGonagall alighted from her office.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, you’re here,” she said. She apparently had no idea Harry had been around long enough to eavesdrop. “Come to my office now.”

Harry nodded, followed her inside the office silently, and sat on the guest chair.

“I’m sure you are aware why you’re given detention, Mr. Potter?” she asked, sitting down behind her desk.

Harry nodded again.

“Good. You are to scrub all the boy’s bathrooms each night until they are clean – without magic.”

Harry dropped his jaw. “All of them?”

“I’m afraid all sixteen of them, Mr. Pottter,” McGonagall confirmed sternly. “But since you have done extra good work outside of school during your vacation, like saving your best friend from possible death, the Headmaster has cut the number down to half. Feel fortunate…”

Harry still groaned. Each bathroom was still too big for him to finish for one night of scrubbing. McGonagall handed Harry a piece of blank parchment.

“Sign here,” she instructed Harry, pointing at a space just beside her name and signature.

“What’s this for?” Harry asked.

“Added red tape,” McGonagall sighed. “It’s a request for detention pass as required by the security administration…”

“Do we really need to do this?” Harry said, sounding a little angry.

“I’m afraid so, Potter,” she replied, looking miffed herself.

“I thought you’re the only authority here in Hogwarts beside the Headmaster…you can’t just waive it to follow these wizards silly rules!”

“There’s no need to argue over that, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall snapped. “That has been fully discussed in our prior meetings with the faculty and we found that we couldn’t do anything about it. Minister Fudge unfortunately has the blessing of the school governors for such measures, even though they are almost divided with it. He had enough votes to give him the power to dictate over us. So speaking out against the rules will only give you so much trouble. Sign.”

Harry didn’t say anything else and signed the paper begrudgingly.

When McGonagall retrieved the parchment, she said, “That’s fine. I won’t ask you to hand this in yourself to the administrator, so I’ll just do it for you.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Harry.

“You’re welcome. Just get your I.D. pass from me tomorrow before you serve detention. Is there something else you need to talk about?”

Harry paused for a moment before answering. He thought of asking her not to bother looking for a bodyguard for him because he thought he’ll look very silly with Malfoy, but decided against it. It’ll just reveal to McGonagall that he had been listening in to her conversation with Dumbledore. Harry finally shook his head.

“Very well,” she said, looking satisfied. “But before you go, I need to ask you to be extra careful when you walk around Hogwarts. You know why, don’t you?”

“Yes, Professor,” he replied. “But I don’t think they’re here because of me – it’s just ridiculous…”

“I don’t find the threat on you ridiculous, Potter…”

Harry acted as if he didn’t hear McGonagall talk and said, “They’re here to destroy Hogwarts, plain and simple.”

“It won’t hurt to assume they’re here for you…”

“It does! I think we’re all getting paranoid with everything that’s happening around here! Can’t you see? I’ll look silly with a bodyguard around…” Harry stopped talking abruptly and gulped.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes, which made Harry feel afraid she’d make the number of bathrooms to thirty two because he inadvertently revealed to her that he had been eavesdropping. But to his surprise, she pushed his offense aside.

“I might have known you haven’t changed at all, Harry,” she said. “What’s done is done, and I won’t charge you for it – for now - because you needed to know about it anyway, but I have to tell you it’s wrong to invade other people’s privacy. I could slap you with more menial detentions if I wanted to but you have already suffered enough to start with…”

“Sorry, about that, Professor – I just couldn’t help it.”

“Feel lucky I’m not in a bad mood tonight…now back to the subject. The Headmaster has deemed it necessary to provide you with close-in security…”

“I don’t want it.”

“…in light of the dangers posed with the presence of the wizards in Hogwarts, which purpose we have no clue of…”

“I can take care of myself, thanks…”

“Damn it, Potter,” McGonagall said, slamming her palm on her tabletop, and leaning closer over to Harry. “Please try to appreciate the effort we’re making to ensure your safety! Think of the concern we have for you – not all students have such privilege like the attention you’re getting from us faculty members….”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful at all, Professor,” Harry said slowly, “but I’ll certainly look like a sissy, especially for Malfoy – he’ll have a field day…”

“There’s no room for childish concerns now, Potter. I believe having your own bodyguard especially what happened to you the last time, and now apparently being around wizards who might be Death Eaters working secretly for You-Know-Who who might try to get you…”

“Do you really think they’re all Death Eaters, Professor?”

“Not all of them, Potter, but the problem is right now we’re not sure who among them are clean and are Death Eaters. We used to think all but two of them are really Death Eaters, but we’re now changing it. Maybe half or two-thirds are, we don’t know. But you’re right. It’s safest to assume they all are. But don’t try to change the subject – we’re talking about getting you a bodyguard…”

“…which I don’t think is a good idea…”

McGonagall sank back on her chair and closed her eyes, feeling the conversation is just going around in circles. She eventually opened them again after feeling she was calming down again. “Harry,” she said, leaning closer again, “look, there’s no need to argue about it anyway because we’re actually having problems looking for someone to look after you.”

“Thank heavens!”

“Okay, let’s not call someone looking after you a ‘bodyguard’ for once. You need – someone – who doesn’t look like your close-in security - or a nanny for instance. But we need to know how you are as much as possible. We won’t forgive ourselves if you find yourself suddenly in You-Know-What again if that’s where you’ll really end up. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Harry felt a negotiation coming – some kind of a compromise. “Okay, I’m listening…”

“Ron Weasley.”

Harry shook his head. “Actually, Professor Dumbledore had originally planned for Ron and Hermione and I to look after each other, but Ron probably can’t help right now – we’re having problems between us friends, and he won’t talk to us anymore.”

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. She knew this was not a good situation, having heard about Dumbledore’s view of how vital their bond with Hermione was for their survival against Voldemort. It wasn’t proven yet, but it was apparently all they had for the moment. She didn’t push the subject much further, opting to discuss it with Dumbledore soon. “Okay, I won’t intervene…you resolve your problems yourselves, hopefully soon. So that leaves Hermione Granger. Do you think she could at least help us?”

Harry thought deeply and soon nodded his head slowly. “If you think it’s okay…if she agrees - but I don’t want to refer to her as my bodyguard. She’s my best friend. In fact, we’ve already agreed to look after each other when just this evening…”

“Granted. I’ll talk to her about it. I won’t use the word ‘bodyguard’, but I’ll just ask her to be more serious about your deal. I’m sure she’s capable of helping us with your safety. Since she’s a prefect, I’d have to ask Administrator Whipple to lessen her patrol duties to have more time with you. I think he won’t mind, as I agree it’s nothing peculiar to have a classmate with you as much as possible rather than a different person altogether. We’ll see how we could pry her loose…”

“But there’s only one thing, Professor – it’ll add to her workload. Do you know what Olga wants her to do while we’re here other than the usual schoolwork and her prefect duties?”

“I’m aware of it, but the thing Olga has asked her to do is not so demanding at all. She’ll just relay anything what she actually hears. Nothing more. I’m sure it won’t get in the way.”

Harry gratefully nodded. He didn’t have to add the fact that Hermione was suffering from random fits of ‘mild dementia’. He was already happy to be spared the embarrassment of having a bodyguard with him all the time in front of the whole school.

“Very good,” McGonagall said finally. “You’re dismissed – and Mr. Potter – please be careful out there? I beg you…”

-o0o-

It was nearing nine in the evening, which meant that the newly imposed curfew was about to start. Harry walked along the dark halls towards the Gryffindor tower, and for the first time he felt the hair on his back stand up when he wondered what was behind him. He kept looking back behind him – the teachers’ fears of danger lurking at every corner with the wizards in Hogwarts was proving to be contagious, and it didn’t feel good at all for Harry.

“Move along, now,” said a wizard who was stationed in this part of Hogwarts, and Harry literally jumped a foot in the air. “You don’t want to get caught in the curfew…”

Harry nodded nervously and moved a little faster, and when he rounded the corner to another hallway, he saw in the middle of it someone hovering over the floor, making him yelp.

“Professor Russelpunk!” Harry breathed, and clutching his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Russelpunk laughed nervously. “Sorry about that, Harry,” he said, landing back on the floor. “What’re you doing here this time of night?”

“I was going back to – wait a minute…did I just see you levitate?”

“Oh…oh yeah, I can do that, actually – second nature…” he said edgily.

“What were you doing in mid-air at a time like this?”

“Just hovering around the hallway – nothing wrong with that, right? I just like to do it when, uhm, nobody’s looking.” Russelpunk smiled quickly and shrugged.

“Wow, that’s amazing – you actually know how to levitate…”

“Harry, thanks again for the lesson ideas,” Russelpunk said evasively. “Can we talk about them further tomorrow? I need to ask some more details about the spells you listed…”

Harry nodded. “Sure…”

“Splendid! Good night…” Russelpunk didn’t wait for Harry to answer back and walked off out of sight quickly.

Harry found his behaviour quite strange, and looked around to observe what part of Hogwarts he was in and why Russelpunk was hovering around here. He took out his wand, looked around if to make sure nobody was around, and muttered “Lumos!”

From what he could see as possible by the narrow beam of light from his wand, there were some classrooms nearby and the only other rooms around were Filch’s storage room for confiscated items and what seemed to be a new office provided for the Assistant Administrator, whose name of Henry Seymour was written on the sign at the door. Other than these, Harry found nothing of interest yet and put this little encounter aside for the moment because it was very dark in the hallway and it was almost nine in the evening. It was hard to make everything out with the limitation of his wand light. Most importantly, he had to make it to the Gryffindor tower on time. So he ran.

When Harry had gotten in the common room panting, Hermione was sitting by the fireplace and she looked anxious.

“Hermione, is something wrong?” he asked.

“Thank God you’re back!” she said, looking relieved when she saw Harry. “I was getting so worried about you – they said you haven’t been here since after dinner and I thought the wizards had caught you wandering around at curfew…”

“Sorry, but I had a long conversation with McGonagall and…I bumped into Russelpunk on the way. Listen…”

Making sure no one was around, Harry told Hermione everything he learned tonight, including all the details of his talk with McGonagall and how he felt about Russelpunk’s strange activities.

“When we’ll have the time, we got to look and see what’s around that place,” Hermione said after Harry had finished. “He could just be satisfying some kind of obsession, but we won’t lose anything if we just look around more closely…”

“I don’t think Russelpunk’s on to something, though,” Harry believed. “He might have just been practicing in secret – that part of Hogwarts is the most secluded…”

“I agree, but I admit it’s just strange he was so evasive about his talents,” Hermione sighed. “I mean, self levitation is a rare gift – he should be proud of it. So, any ideas what Dumbledore meant about those warrants?”

Harry shook his head. “It’s the part that I missed, and I don’t know what warrants they were talking about and for whom they were for. They could be search or arrest warrants – I’m not sure. But they were agitated about it, though. Maybe it was for someone – a she - they knew too well who Fudge’s trying to pin down.”

Hermione merely nodded her head and didn’t say anything. She was hoping they weren’t referring to Olga, but she couldn’t help but think she was the most likely person Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking about.

“Harry, I really don’t mind at all,” Hermione said slowly.

“About what?” Harry said, puzzled of what Hermione was trying to say.

“You know, if McGonagall wants me to have the extra work looking after you…”

Harry pursed his lips and looked at the fireplace. He just didn’t like feeling being a kid who had to be looked after at all, especially when it involved his best friend. He refused to use the word “bodyguard”.

“Are you forgetting something?” Harry asked Hermione a little later with a forced smile. “Didn’t we just agree to look after each other a few hours ago?”

Hermione nodded and laughed softly. “Yeah, sorry – of course, and if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. Only that I just don’t think I’m being targeted at all - you’re the obvious one.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true, Hermione,” Harry said gently. “Even Dumbledore thinks you’re not safe as you think you are. That night during the attack at the Burrow – he said Voldemort might be gunning for people closest to me, and he was genuinely worried about you. They had attacked Ron, and I was so scared for you, but I’m so grateful they didn’t get to you yet.”

Hermione smiled at Harry at first, thankful for the care he showed to her at the moment, but then sank into worry soon after. It just didn’t occur to her at all that she, too, might be in danger like Harry from Voldemort. Being closely considered for harm by the most terrible wizard of all time was indeed very troubling, and she wondered how Harry had lived through that already.

Harry read through the look on her face and said, “Don’t worry, Hermione, I’ll be around for you when you need me. They won’t touch you…I promise you that…”

Upon hearing Harry’s word, she felt secure again. Grateful, she stood up and bent down to kiss Harry on his cheek.

“Thanks, Harry – you can count on me, too. See you tomorrow…” She ran up the spiral staircase towards her room, leaving a stunned Harry alone beside the fireplace. He felt he was sitting on a cloud instead of a couch.

-o0o-

In a secret room deep beneath Hogwarts castle, a meeting was taking place for half a dozen masked and hooded wizards. The room was earily dark, with only a handful of torch lights illuminating the whole area. The Dark Mark was prominently carved on the stone floor.

“Is everything ready?” asked a wizard, who looked like their leader. He was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, in front of the rest.

“Yes, master,” replied one. “We have already made contact with our target. It’ll only be a matter of time when we’re done with our mission.”

The leader nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Master Lucius is anxious to know if everything is in place, and I trust you know what to do.”

All the wizards bowed and left their leader, allowing him to pull out a parchment to write a letter addressed to Lucius, feeling satisfied to write at last, “It has commenced. In due time, the Dark Lord will be proud of your genius, Master Lucius. I have information that will prove to be of valuable importance to you and the Dark Lord…”

-o0o-

The first day of class for the year started the next morning for all. A good night’s sleep permitted everyone who was worried about the presence of security wizards to pretend it was the same Hogwarts they knew all these years. But as soon they all walked the corridors for their usual activities, they knew they weren’t dreaming about it at all. For many who believed Fudge was doing the right thing to stop all the silly talk of Voldemort’s return by sending them in, the sight of the wizards was simply gratifying.

For Harry, it was good enough to hear the wizards’ voices getting coarse out of bellowing reminders about the two-man rule. They were plainly overwhelmed by the flow of Hogwarts students getting to the Great Hall at the same time for breakfast. The corridors were simply too narrow to accommodate enough space to separate just about everyone. Ultimately, the wizards’ voices couldn’t be heard anymore even if they were normal – there were just too many students talking and they were drowned out by the noise.

Harry found Hermione already stirring her porridge with milk and he sat down beside her. They had both realized that they didn’t need to really watch each other during the day when there were many students around. The only time they thought of having the greater danger was at night, when the school grounds were almost devoid of people.

To Harry’s annoyance, Ron was seated on his usual place – just in front of Hermione across the long table. Harry didn’t know how to act when he’d be within this close in proximity with Ron, and he looked emotionless. Perhaps if he didn’t look at him, he might pretend he wasn’t around at all.

“Hi, Hermione,” said Harry as happily as he could. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”

She wanted to answer back, but seemed to decide against it when she heard Ron grunt in front of her. She just wiggled her nose at Harry, signaling him to refrain from talking until they’d get far away from Ron soon. Even she felt awkward with his presence, and it was feeling alien to them after years of seemingly non-breakable friendship.

Harry sighed and prepared to fill up his dish. As soon as he started eating his bacon and eggs, the owl post had arrived, delivering the morning mail to everyone. It was not at all unusual for Harry to see so many letters being brought in, if not for the amount of mail landing in front of Hermione.

“What the – ” she said, bewildered at the mound of envelopes she was getting. Even Ron looked on slightly intrigued.

“Who’re they from?” asked Harry. When he grabbed one to look much closer, most the envelopes seemed to have the same handwriting, and the same return address. Bulgaria.

“Oh,” Harry said softly. “Krum’s probably wondering why you weren’t answering his letters, Hermo-ninny.”

Hermione’s face reddened, and she tried to stuff all the envelopes into her already overfilled bag of books, except for one, which she instantly opened to read.

“Yeah, you’re right about that, Harry,” she said timidly. “He’s worried I’m ignoring his letters, actually…I think those owls over at – you know where – were for me all the time.”

“So Vicky’s still writing to you, isn’t he, Hermione?” said Ron severely.

Hermione breathed, closed her eyes for a moment, and looked at Ron. “As you can see, yes! So?”

“So you don’t care about the trio we had anymore, do you?”

Hermione frowned. She didn’t get what Ron was trying to point out. “What’s that got to do with writing letters to Viktor? It’s just a friendly…”

Ron snorted and laughed. Neville and their other close classmates stopped eating and looked on the simmering exchange between Ron and Hermione apprehensively. “Friendly, huh? Don’t you get it? He’s trying to take you away from us because he’s in love with you! He doesn’t care if you stay with your best friends as long as he has you for himself!”

“Do you really think, Ronald, that’s what he was writing to me about all along? Don’t talk about what you don’t know,” Hermione growled.

“Yes, I do! And you only need to deny it. He’s destroying our friendship because he’s a selfish git…”

“He’s not a…” Hermione started to shout, but Harry intervened.

“Why don’t you take a good look at yourself, Ron?” Harry said angrily, making Ron snap his sights unto him away from Hermione. “Who do you really think is the one who’s actually destroying our trio? You’re actually doing the very thing that you seem to be afraid of happening yourself, didn’t you notice?!?”

“I’m not – I’m not the one who’s causing all this! You are!” Ron retorted.

“How so, Ron?” asked Hermione, still glaring at him.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ron,” Harry said harshly. “Don’t you dare blurt it out in the Great Hall, or we’ll never talk to you again!”

Ron apparently realized something because he was suddenly lost for words. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong! I’m not…just shut up! Shut up!” He stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a silent Gryffindor table and sniggers from the Slytherins.

Hermione rubbed her face with both her hands, and shook her head. “I can’t believe Ron’s treating us this way…especially during a time like this,” she sobbed.

“’Tis better you all snapped,” said Fred from across the table. “I think I just heard a gong ringing inside his head.”

“He’s just in denial at the moment, but he got the message,” added George. “He’ll swallow his pride soon, I wager.”

Harry strangely didn’t look forward to it at once, but hoped Ron had finally realized he didn’t have to break up their friendship at all in the first place just because he wanted to make his point across. It didn’t concern him for the moment, but he was worried about Hermione, who looked hurt after being accused by Ron for something that might not be true at all, like her alleged romance with Krum. She had stopped short of saying she had nothing to do with him except for having him to write to, and Harry personally hoped that was true because it also affected him in a way if it weren’t. For now, he chose not to push the subject further and looked for something to distract Hermione. He found it by the other unaddressed lavender colored envelopes for her that caught his attention, which were left uncollected at the table because of the shouting match.

“Now, who’s this from? Can I open it for you?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and tried to smile, but the tears welling in her eyes streamed down already. She wiped them with her hand and turned her attention to the envelope Harry was holding.

“Okay, thanks,” he said, and tried to open one. He couldn’t. The paper looked easy to rip, but he felt it was just impossible. “I can’t seem to…”

“Oh, don’t act like you can’t,” Hermione laughed, wiped off more of her tears, and grabbed it away from Harry. “Nice try, but thanks…”

“No, I mean, really…” but Harry stopped talking when Hermione simply opened the envelope as if it had no glue and started to read it. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the whole letter, and looked deadly serious.

“Hermione, what is it?” Harry said. “What does it say?”

She didn’t answer but just kept on reading.

“Hey,” Harry nudged her with his elbow, snapping her off from her thoughts.

“Ow! What?” she said, looking irritated.

“I said what’s wrong with the letter?”

“Like I said, it’s Viktor – he’s wondering why I haven’t been answering his letters…”

Harry rolled his eyes and took the blank envelope again, examining it. “You’re just repeating what I said before, and it doesn’t say it’s from Viktor from this envelope, Hermione. It’s blank! But if you think it’s too private, I can understand…”

“No really, its…”

But Harry didn’t know what Hermione wanted to tell him because a new wave of owls – hundreds of them this time – came soaring down again from the air, delivering everybody their own free copy of the Daily Prophet, which Horace Whipple had mentioned the night before. Harry became more interested in today’s issue and forgot all about Hermione’s lavender envelopes. The Headlines even made him forget about his breakfast.

Minister Fudge Declares State of Emergency

Plan To Overthrow the Minister Discovered and Foiled – Warrants Out to Arrest Plotters

Ministry of Magic Aurors yesterday had uncovered a sinister plot by some groups to take advantage of the confusion and division among the wizard populace caused by rumor-mongers out to spread the bogus story of He-Who-Must-Be-Named’s return as true fact by taking over the position of Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic through violent means. This had prompted Minister Fudge to call on an emergency meeting at 11 p.m. last night with the Governing Council to grant him emergency powers in order to save the wizard world from anarchy. Voting 8-2 in favor, the Minister was given such powers to maintain order and he immediately declared the wizard world to a 30-day state of emergency.

His first order of action was to order the arrest of some wizards suspected to be behind the plot to bring chaos to the wizard world, namely, Olga Gargarin, Ramius Palkov, Nikolai Berdinski, Sturgis Podmore, and Remus Lupin, among others…

“Fudge’s out of control, and worse he’s letting Lucius dictate everything to him!” Harry grunted angrily to Hermione, who was too shocked to even answer him.

Somehow, Lucius had discovered who some of the members and close associates in the Order were. But how? The Order of the Pheonix was being put out of action even before they could get fully organized.

-o0o-

Chapter 12 coming soon. New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter, so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again, I thank you for reading this story.

13. Recurring Lapses

Notice: Next update may take up to next November 4th. Please bear with me, thanks.

Author’s note: Thanks to Ridxwan and PottersPrincess again for their review! Your two thumbs ups and comments had an inspiring effect. It meant that I’ve at least kept the story interesting for readers, and I thank you for it! I hope this chapter will be interesting to everyone, too, because the plot keeps on thickening here. Of course, if you find something wrong or bad in this chapter (or if I’ve overdone portraying Harry and Hermione’s growing affection towards each other) please let me know! Thanks!

Chapter 12

Recurring Lapses

The news about the arrest warrants issued against the people Harry and Hermione knew is what made them more afraid of than Fudge’s declared state of emergency itself. They thought they were relatively safe when they were in Hogwarts from any of Fudge’s policies outside of it, and they should worry more about the immediate things like the new interior rules being enforced against the students and faculty (though they also kept wondering what was going on right now in the wizard world outside Hogwarts). They had also thought of being more especially concerned about the pressure that was being brought on the Order of the Pheonix.

Although Olga, Ramius (who had been wanted by the Ministry in the first place), and Nikolai weren’t full-fledged members of the Order, Dumbledore had lost some valuable assets that could have contributed immensely to the cause nevertheless. The immediate question that came into Harry and Hermione’s mind was that how could anyone have known Lupin and Podmore were actually involved in a secret group for a specific purpose of existence? They both accounted for almost a third of the active members of the Order they knew. Of course, the Order of the Pheonix was not at all formed against Fudge, but to fight Voldemort. Harry and Hermione could not help but think they’ve been infiltrated by someone. But who?

“Could it be Nikolai?” Hermione suggested in a hushed tone as they sat on a bench at the courtyard. She and Harry left their breakfast untouched and decided to discuss the current situation in a quiet place, where no one can hear them. They still had about 20 minutes to talk before their first class. “I mean, he’s the new one, isn’t he? Olga and Ramius brought him in…”

“But I don’t think it makes sense, Hermione,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s among the wizards wanted by the Ministry…”

“But that could be just a cover,” interrupted Hermione. “Isn’t it?”

Harry thought more deeply again. That was possible, but at the same time, he found it hard to believe. “I don’t think someone who had gone through all the lengths to save a Muggle-born like you might be a Death Eater,” he said, “but let’s not rule him out just the same. Anybody else?”

Hermione thought deeply again. “There could be other members in the Order we haven’t met yet…”

“That’s possible, too,” agreed Harry. “D’you think we should warn Dumbledore, and tell him who we’re suspecting?”

“We could,” Hermione said, but she shook her head, “but I’m he’s already thought of that. It’s not hard to think a thing like a mole inside his own Order after what’s happened. It’s obvious. I trust Dumbledore’s in control…”

Harry nodded and sighed deeply. “Olga and the others might have been up to something already, and these warrants just stopped them from going on any further. A clever trick – I’d love to think Lucius is behind this. Consider this, Hermione: his spies might have informed him about some names in the Order, and he suggests to Fudge to declare a state of emergency, and issue arrest warrants to capture them effectively preventing them to continue with their mission.”

“Brilliant theory, Harry,” Hermione grinned. “But what are the odds of Fudge declaring a state of emergency at once and having the Governing Council approve it immediately just because Lucius suggested it? Such declarations need to have some tension building up over time until a boiling point is reached…I just can’t believe he could do it overnight.”

“Lucius could have bought some of them…”

Hermione smiled again. “Okay, let’s say that’s true,” she said, “but we just don’t know what the real reason is behind the state of emergency and how it came about yet. I never heard of any news about some brewing tensions in the wizard world. Have you? Dumbledore and the Order could have discussed it in Grimmauld, but they didn’t. It came as a total surprise, even for Dumbledore like you told me, but your theory might be correct. Let’s try to gather up the facts first and then we’ll think of something…”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Harry sighed. “No point of zeroing in on one theory, which just comes from our own imagination, right?”

Hermione didn’t say anything further though she rested her head on Harry’s shoulder in a friendly manner and giggled, because she thought Harry’s way of thinking was rather cute to her. Harry didn’t actually mind that at all; he didn’t fidget, wrapped his arm around her neck, and made a mess of her hair with the other playfully, which she mockingly protested. For a moment they just froze…feeling and enjoying the warmth of each other amid the snow. Lots of things played around in each of their minds, such as how really good it felt when they sat together this close. They didn’t choose to speak about it - they just allowed their inner feelings to flow. The wonderful thing for each of them was they seemed to have temporarily forgotten about the threat around them when they were in this state. For Harry, feeling Hermione’s hair brush against his face had a fantastic effect on him that he couldn’t explain. Hermione felt the same as she felt Harry face pressing the top of her head. She could have wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist if not for…

“Darn,” Harry breathed. “Blinky and Dinky’s coming towards us…”

“Who?” Hermione said, breaking away, sitting up straight, and looking around.

“The wizards I saw talking to you yesterday after supper…I gave them those names.”

Hermione found them walking to their direction from their flank. She let out a breath of disappointment. “Oh, no! What do they want this time?” she said, looking away from them, frowning.

“Why, what did they talk to you about last night?” Harry asked, but Hermione couldn’t answer his question anymore because they had now come within earshot.

“Miss Granger, we’ve been looking around for you. Assistant Administrator Seymour requires all the prefects’ assistance urgently…” said Blinky. “Sorry to break the mood…”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione replied, stood up, and gathered her things from the bench. She turned to Harry. “I think I’m going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Harry. I’ll meet you there then?”

Harry nodded, and stared at Blinky and Dinky. They didn’t look stern at all, but rather courteous.

“Our apologies, Mr. Potter,” said Dinky. “Duty calls for all prefects. She won’t be gone for long.”

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked casually, picking up her last book and faced them.

“We’ll talk about it on the way,” Blinky said. “We’ll save time if we do. We don’t want you to miss your class, though you’re fully excused.”

Who says? Harry asked to himself. Now they’re dictating a student’s class hours…

“Bye, Harry,” Hermione said, winking. Harry thought it was a signal to him that she may be in for a scoop today. Hermione left with the wizards back towards the castle. Harry sighed. If only the wizards hadn’t interrupted them, he would have chosen to sit on the same spot with her all day and forget about everything (including the whole day’s worth of classes). Knowing Hermione, he was sure she wouldn’t have liked that and they would’ve gone to the classrooms anyway.

Which Harry reminded of something; he jumped when he took a look at the clock tower. He had only five minutes to hurry up to the DADA classroom, which would take more than that if he walked normally. He slung his bag on his shoulder and ran full out the opposite direction of Hermione.

He made it to his fist DADA class of the year panting. The whole class was already at their seats, and Professor Russelpunk was taking his folders out of his bag.

“Just in time, Harry,” Russelpunk said happily. “We’re just about to get started. Take your seat.”

Harry nodded and sheepishly walked towards his assigned seat. His eyes caught Ron, who took Hermione’s place away from Harry’s seat (they had been sitting together since September), but Ron didn’t seem to want to look at Harry. Harry understood how Ron was feeling, too, after their recent exchange at the Great Hall. Ron, however, didn’t scowl – he looked peculiarly guilty. Harry didn’t mind him at all this time and proceeded to sit down on his chair and placed his bag on top of now-Hermione’s seat.

“Great,” Russelpunk started. “Let’s get on with our lessons. As you well know, as I’ve told you countless times, Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of the most important subjects you must dedicate learning in order to prepare for any threats that come your way in your life as a wizard. Dark forces are out there just waiting, looking for the perfect opportunity to do bodily harm on each and every one of us and you must not let your guard down at all times…”

“Oh, please, Professor!” interrupted Zacharias Smith disrespectfully. “Don’t tell us more about You-Know-Who’s back again – I’ll report you to the security wizards!”

Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Smith was getting on his nerve again this early during the day, and Harry didn’t know how long he could hold on to himself. He stared at Russelpunk, expecting him to do nothing, but the look on the professor’s face suggested something different.

Russelpunk just stared at Zacharias, who folded his arms arrogantly, and said, “Mr. Smith, I didn’t refer to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You suggested it. I said ‘Dark Forces’. You spoke out of turn – report to Professor McGonagall immediately! And take one hundred points from Hufflepuff for disrespect!”

Harry gasped and held open his jaw out of surprise, because he had not seen Russelpunk tell off a student before. Ever. The rest of the Gryffindors were impressed, and the Hufflepuffs had nothing else to do but vented their ire on Zacharias, who was too shocked to even move from his seat. Ernie McMillan, the Hufflepuff prefect, angrily took him by the ears and dragged him out of the classroom leaving some of his classmates cheering. Zacharias was apparently not so endearing even for them.

Russelpunk’s face was void of emotion, and returned to his lesson as if nothing happened, earning the growing respect of the class, well, except for the Slytherins who looked unfazed.

“The lesson for today is the Flamer spell,” Russelpunk announced. “It’s an offensive spell that shoots a violent flame out of your wand, scorching anything at the end of it.”

At this point most of the class edged away from the front fearing another disaster coming in this lesson. But to everyone’s surprise, Russelpunk demonstrated the spell perfectly, with the incantation “Imflamaren!”, gently burning the parchment inside a waste bin for ten seconds and also performing its reverse spell, which was a gush of high-pressure water from his wand. Everybody was excited to try the spell, but Russelpunk promised they would do it outdoors in another time unless they wanted to transform Hogwarts into ashes, much to the student’s disappointment.

Russelpunk also taught the class the “Whip”, a fiery-blue strand of power to electrocute anyone caught within its grasp. Due to popular demand, he let everyone try it on a poor dummy, and this took the whole double period. At last, this year’s Defence Against the Dark Art class had become interesting, making everyone excited of the next lessons, except of course the Slytherins who were trying hard not to look disappointed seeing Russelpunk redeem himself.

The bell rang for break time, and for the first time Russelpunk relished the moans and groans from the class. He had never heard them do that before, and it satisfied him immensely. “Don’t fret, class,” he said proudly, “the next lesson will be much more interesting, I promise you. Remember, it’s ‘Lartigo’ for the Whipslasher. Class dismissed.”

“This was probably the dullest two hours of my whole life!” complained Draco loudly as he passed by Russelpunk, which was followed by the expected laughter from Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry was the last to stand up from his seat because he wanted to congratulate Russelpunk with today’s excellent lesson.

“Hard to please, aren’t they, those Slytherins,” said Russelpunk cheerfully to Harry after he closed his portfolio.

“Don’t mind them, sir,” Harry said, “they just like to put down anyone who’s looking good. I’m proud of you today, Professor!”

Russelpunk looked flattered. “Without your and Hermione’s efforts to help me think of these spells and prepare well for them, I wouldn’t have done it. Thanks a million to you both! I guess everything will be better from now on…”

Just then a girl from Hufflepuff approached Russelpunk sheepishly and told him he was cool before running off.

“I think I won’t have to try to seek the attention of the students anymore,” Russelpunk said to Harry as soon as the girl disappeared from sight. “Things are looking up – oh, by the way, believe it or not I still don’t understand the rules of Quidditch. I’ve taken the interest in the sport, and if you don’t mind, could you run me through it today – I mean, just an introduction will do.”

“Of course, sir,” replied Harry. “But did you say once you were one of the most decorated Beaters in the United States?”

“Oh, did I?” Russelpunk laughed nervously, and he turned red. “Uhm, you know, it’s – uh - been so long and people like me do, uh, forget…and lose their skills over time…”

“Uhuh,” said Harry slowly, but he shook it off because he felt that the Professor was only bragging about his skills in Quidditch to impress the students in one of his classes one time. “Okay, it’s simple…” Harry told him the rules in just a couple of minutes, remembering Oliver Wood’s same words in his first year.

“Wow, thanks!” Russelpunk said. “You’re right, it’s that simple to understand, and what interests me most is the Golden Snitch. Cool.”

“Sorry, I got to go, Professor,” said Harry, looking hurried. “I just remembered to write to someone today, and I have only half an hour left to do it…” They both bid goodbye and Harry went on his way.

Harry thought of writing a quick letter to Sirius to ask him about how Lupin was, and he had to go to the Common Room to get his stationeries. Along the way, it suddenly occurred to him that Hermione had missed DADA today. The prefects meeting could have dragged on longer than expected and she had no chance to attend the rest of the class. The common room was also crowded by other students for the break. Harry looked for a place to start writing, and he found it in a lonely corner. Moments later, Hermione had come in the common room, too. She looked extremely confused.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione said to him after she went over to Harry’s spot.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking up at her.

“Have classes been suspended or something?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, mystified. “We had two hours of DADA and it’s break time. Where have you been? You missed it.”

“Missed it?” Hermione gasped. “You can’t be serious! It couldn’t be break time already! I went straight to our classroom after I was dismissed in the meeting and found it empty. Everybody was out of the corridors! I swear the meeting only took a couple of minutes!”

“I don’t understand it…” Harry said, “What was the meeting about?”

“They just instructed us to help them enforce the two-man rule, which is giving the wizards severe headaches,” replied Hermione distractedly.

“Serves them right…” Harry commented.

Hermione waved her hand impatiently. “Yeah they deserve it, but that’s not important, Harry…I’ll tell you about it later – how could I not remember where I’ve gone during my last two hours?” Hermione then paused. They both sunk into a moment of silence when it struck them.

“Oh, no!” Harry exclaimed. “You had another memory lapse! I was hoping that was behind you already!”

It hit Hermione like a gong. She sank down on a couch and suddenly looked worried.

“We’d better see Madam Pomfrey…”

“Was Professor Russelpunk angry about me?” she interrupted apprehensively, seemingly less concerned about her ongoing condition than her schoolwork (as usual). “I hope his lessons today couldn’t have been good like it’s always been…”

“He didn’t mention anything about you, actually, but I’m sorry to break it to you, Hermione, it was one of the best DADA classes we had in years. Russelpunk was simply fabulous today!”

“O-M-G, O-M-G, O-M-G!” Hermione wailed, covering her face with her hands. “I gotta look for Russelpunk now and apologize to him! I gotta go!” She sprang up her seat and started to run towards the portrait hole.

“See you at Herbology!” Harry cried after her. She made a u-turn, ran up the spiral staircase, and got back down, now clutching her work robes with her.

“See you later, too,” she panted as she hurriedly passed Harry again, her bushy hair flying behind her, and disappeared through the portrait hole.

Harry blew out a breath, shook his head, and returned to writing his letter to Sirius (though he started worrying again about Hermione’s condition at the same time). Because of his limited time, he had to write it as shortly as he can.

Dear Snuffles,

Have you heard of what happened? How’s Moony? Where is he now? I hope you could answer as soon as possible. We’re all worried here. Things are not looking too well.

Love,

Harry

He reread his letter in the point of view of a stranger, and thought he wrote it as vaguely as he could but enough for Sirius to understand at once. His letter could be intercepted because of the tight security measures around Hogwarts, and the state of emergency. Harry was confident that Hedwig couldn’t be caught by anyone midway, but he didn’t want to take any chances. It was better to be safe.

Despite the fact that his letter was only very short, Harry thought he wouldn’t have enough time to go to the Owlery to call Hedwig down and still make it for Herbology, which was located at the opposite side of the castle so he decided he’d do it later. He gathered up his work robes and headed towards the greenhouses. He hoped he could meet Hermione along the way, but there was no sign of her.

Professor Sprout called for attendance, and Harry took his place at Greenhouse Three. Hermione had arrived just in time to catch up before her name was called, and she was spared of being late. Aside from heavily panting beside him, Harry noticed that she looked distressed.

While the rest of the class’ names were being called, Harry hissed to her, “How did it go with Russelpunk?”

Hermione hesitated, but finally said, “He gave me extra work! Six feet of essays for the Flamer and the Whipslasher spells.”

“That’s not bad at all for you, isn’t it?” Harry tried to lighten her up. “I mean, you enjoy doing these things…you’re Hermione Granger.”

“But that’s not what’s bothering me,” she replied. “It’s how Russelpunk looked at me. He’s quite different – he seemed to have become stricter and less friendly to me than before. He was always so pleasant to talk to but not this morning…and I don’t understand it…”

Harry didn’t like that. Not that he expected Russelpunk should have been partly indebted to Hermione for helping him fix his very own problems with teaching, but he hoped they had not made a monster out of him now that he was beginning to be successful in lessons. Today, Russelpunk seemed to have treated Harry the same way he had since the classroom mishap with Hermione, but why did he now show a different view on her? He swore he heard him acknowledge Hermione’s help in preparing his lessons as a big part of his success in redeeming himself in front of the fifth years.

Harry couldn’t answer her at the moment, and thought that he was now beginning to dislike the professor, not just because of his treatment with Hermione, but for other reasons he was beginning to realize as well. He glanced over to Hermione, and she looked real troubled because her eyebrows furrowed while she cut off the excess growth of her Windyweed plant (a weed that produces its own spurt of odorless air when bothered by gardeners, but its growth is highly useful as an active ingredient for potions brewed to fight constipation). Her bushy hair flew back while the weed tried to discourage her from pruning it by blowing strong gusts of air at her face. Everybody else looked like they were riding in cars without windshields. Harry wished he brought along his Quidditch goggles, but that was too late already.

It was hard to breathe because of the overload of excess air whirling around the greenhouse, but this didn’t deter Harry from thinking more about Hermione’s recent troubles while he did his work. Poor Hermione, he thought. Everything seemed to go wrong for her lately ever since she told him her wand was malfunctioning.

Now whatever happened with her wand? Harry asked himself. He needed to ask her that help Hermione resolve her other lingering problems as much as possible. He thought he should help her as much as he could and wished his Windyweed would’ve stop blowing his face with air to allow him to talk to her. What happened next almost placed Harry in a fit of despair.

“OW!” Hermione cried, and froze as she watched some blood ooze out copiously from her middle finger. She had cut herself with her pruning tool. Harry immediately dropped everything he was doing and tried to see how bad it was, ignoring the laughter from Draco and his cronies.

“Let me see it!” Harry said forcefully as Hermione tried to hide her injury away from him, but she relented and allowed him to inspect it after moment. Harry took out his hanky and wrapped it around the wound, which was big enough to be an emergency, to help stop the blood flow. Blood had gradually soaked his hanky, and it seemed there was no stopping it for now.

“You better go to the hospital wing this instant!” a frightened Professor Sprout said to Hermione. “Harry, you better escort Hermione…you may be excused from Herbology today…go!”

Hermione was silently crying while Harry guided her protectively towards the hospital wing, wrapping his arms behind her back and holding her wounded hand with his own free hand.

“Don’t worry,” Harry said soothingly as they walked towards the castle, “Madam Pomfrey will fix this in no time at all…”

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, Harry,” she sobbed. “It’s like…it’s like…”

“Like you’re not being yourself?” Harry suggested. “Or it seems like everything’s gone wrong for you?”

Hermione sniffed and nodded.

“I don’t believe any of that baloney,” Harry said, trying to help Hermione think otherwise. “They’re all just coincidences…” Harry, however, could not help but agree with her, too. He thought about it himself – many things were going wrong for her lately. While Harry kept supporting Hermione in their trek towards the hospital wing, he tried to enumerate in his mind her recent troubles. Hermione’s misfortunes seemed to have started during her accident in DADA last year (if he didn’t count the time when she complained about her malfunctioning wand before that). The accident was the cause of her current troubles with her memory lapses (that was another, not counting how many times it had attacked her). Then she had this sudden fever back at the Burrow and that got worse in Grimmauld.

Harry didn’t know if he’d count Russelpunk’s changing view towards Hermione. For all he knew, the professor might only have been angry with her for missing his class and Hermione had misinterpreted it for something else, but she did feel bad about it. Cutting her finger in Herbology was purely an accident, but it still counted as one of her troubles nonetheless. Harry couldn’t help but feel pity for his best friend, and the bad thing he felt was he wasn’t doing good enough to help her…

They had gotten to the hospital wing within minutes, and Madam Pomfrey dropped everything she was doing to give Hermione medical attention.

“Whoa! That’s some nasty cut you have here,” Madam Pomfrey commented while she cleaned the wound to prevent infection. “But you’ll live, of course – too far from your own guts. I’ll use magic to close it, as usual, and it’ll be good as new.”

Madam Pomfrey expected Hermione to calm down already through her words, but she just kept crying. “What’s wrong?” she asked her. “You can stop crying – it’s nothing…”

“She’s been through a lot of bad luck lately, Madam,” Harry told her for Hermione.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Y-Yeah,” Hermione cried. “I didn’t just cut my finger in Herbology – I don’t remember what I did the whole double period of DADA…” she trailed off and sobbed.

“She had another memory lapse early this morning,” Harry explained slowly. “Hermione forgot about what she did from eight to ten.”

Madam Pomfrey frowned. “That’s strange…” she said as she kept fixing Hermione’s wound.

“Wh-What’s strange?” sniffed Hermione, now looking alarmed.

“You should have recovered by now,” Pomfrey replied. “But this could mean it has taken much longer than I expected.”

“You mean to say it’s permanent?” asked Hermione, her eyes wide, though still teary eyed. “Please say it isn’t so…”

“No, no, no, it’s not that. Chances of this going permanent are very, very slim. But we need to extend your medication if this is the case. When was the last time you had an attack other than this morning?”

“Just before Christmas, I think,” Hermione replied. “Or maybe just after – I’m not sure…”

“Well, I find that slightly encouraging,” Pomfrey said, sounding as confident as she could. “I mean, it shows that it’s tapering off over time. Soon it would just go away and never bother you again.”

“Do you really think so?” Harry asked, hopeful that Madam Pomfrey was right.

“I expect that to be, at least. Hermione, I think you need to take your potion regularly for an additional week…”

Hermione nodded, but still looked extremely worried.

“If the lapses occur again or more frequently than normal, you must see me again as soon as possible so that I could give you additional treatment, okay? Promise me.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that at all. It meant Hermione was not out of the woods yet with regards to her condition. If he heard Madam Pomfrey right, it also meant it was possible it could get much even worse. Harry was too distraught that he had neither heard Hermione reply nor had seen her nod her head in response to Madam Pomfrey’s instructions.

“Here, you should take this,” Madam Pomfrey said to Hermione, handing her some pills. “Take one each day…”

“What’s this for, to help me get rid of my memory lapses?” asked Hermione.

“No, they’re to stop you from worrying about it,” Madam Pomfrey said, shrugging. “You look like you’re beginning to from the look of your face…”

“No, thanks,” Hermione said, putting them on a side table. “I absolutely don’t need anti-depressants…”

“Okay, that’s fine. So, aside from your recurring memory lapses, you’re okay now, Hermione. Just don’t forget to see me at once if it’s still bothering you…”

-o0o-

Harry thought Hermione should have accepted Madam Pomfrey’s pills because she looked as if she needed it now. She hadn’t talked much at all since she was discharged from the hospital wing after her wound was healed. Hermione had fits of anxiety attacks that left her silent for long periods of time, obviously thinking about her condition all to herself very seriously. Harry was worried even more for her than he’d already been before this.

“What can I do to help?” Harry asked Hermione concernedly as they walked slowly and silently for over an hour around the snow covered grounds (there were less students around because of ongoing classes).

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed, smiling for the first time since the last saw each other at the common room, “You’ve done so much for me already, ever since I started goofing up before Christmas – I thank you for everything…”

“But you’re still not well, Hermione,” Harry said gently, looking at her eyes as they kept walking slowly together. “I just can’t get myself to leave you all alone like this…”

Hermione laughed softly. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I should be the one worrying about you, not the other way around…don’t forget about what Voldemort’s wwanting to do to you…”

“But I don’t care if I die in the process…it’s nothing compared to what you’re going through…”

Hermione fell silent. She thought this was the sweetest thing Harry had told her ever since they became friends. She couldn’t answer him, because it would only make her voice choppy if she talked back. She didn’t show Harry the tears that were streaming down from her eyes at the moment by facing away from him and pretending to look at the frozen lake they were passing by. She was so happy Harry could disregard his own safety, even putting the possibility of his own death aside for her, but she knew she wouldn’t permit that at all because she cared for her best friend very much, too.

She thought it wasn’t really fair if she allowed herself to forego her responsibility to help ensure Harry’s safety just because she had her own problems that Harry thought was more important to take care of first than his. Because of this, it helped her decide to stop worrying about her memory lapses and other bad luck. She would just have to deal with them when they came. Harry’s words gave her the renewed strength she needed so badly to take her out of her stupor. She had to take control of herself again, and she had to do it for Harry. She took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said, smiling and wiping her tears, “you’re such a very good friend – I…I’m all right now. What you said really means a lot to me. You made me realize that I can’t afford to be weak at a time like this because you need me as much as I need you.”

“Yeah, I admit I need your help, especially since we don’t know what’s going on around us or what’s going to happen to us. But you can count on me, too, because I’ll protect you with my life even if it’s the last thing I’ll ever do…because…”

“Yes?” Hermione said, waiting for Harry to say his reason.

“Because…because…you’re special to me…” Harry said carefully.

Hermione gave him a wide smile. “You’re very special to me, too, Harry,” she said rather awkwardly, though this didn’t stop her from kissing Harry on his cheek for the third time in her whole life. “You’re so very sweet…”

They both walked ahead together silently for some time, grinning like there was no tomorrow. They felt rather good being alone together again…

“Tell you what, Hermione,” said Harry a little later, “if Russelpunk’s still bothering you, I think he deserves a closer look from us…”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, looking clueless at Harry.

“I have a bad feeling about him. I just can’t make it out.”

“Harry, I hope you’re not doing this just to make me feel better,” Hermione said seriously. “I mean, I’ve thought he might have been only angry with me for missing his first ever successful class in his career, and I don’t really mind that at all…I already brushed that aside.”

“No, it’s not that. When I met him last night in the halls alone hovering by himself, I just couldn’t help it but keep thinking he’s up to something ever since. Did you know he asked me to teach him about Quidditch? He said he was specifically interested with the Golden Snitch. There’s nothing really wrong about that in itself, but if he’s being friendly with me, I think he’s trying too much. I’ve just got a bad feeling about him…”

“I see…” Hermione said. “So you’re suspecting him to be part of the plot? Is that it?”

“I guess,” Harry said uncertainly. “It won’t hurt if we go careful with him – if he turns out clean, so much the better…”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded. “We’ll do our investigating together – it’s absolutely not safe if we each go doing it alone.”

“I think we need to know what he might have been doing outside Filch’s broom closet in the dark,” added Harry. “It’s close to Whipple’s assistant’s office – a Seymour or something. I think we need to look there, too. I don’t know what Seymour looks like – I haven’t seen him yet.”

“I think you already did this morning – he’s one of the couple wizards who met us in the courtyard,” Hermione said. “You know what? Those were cute names you’ve given them…” she chuckled.

“You mean Blinky and Dinky?” asked Harry, surprised. “Which of them was Seymour?”

“He’s the one with the scar on his face.”

“Ah…that’s Blinky. So what do you think of him?” Harry asked. “Blink…Seymour, I mean?”

“Well, he’s surprisingly mild mannered and soft spoken,” Hermione said, thinking deeply, “not unlike the other wizards who seem to think they’re the masters of the universe in Hogwarts. I just don’t like the extra work they’re giving me and the other prefects. I’d rather worry about homework…”

“I agree he was kind of polite with me today,” Harry said, nodding. “Do you think Seymour’s one of the people Olga and Dumbledore thinks aren’t Death Eaters?”

“Possibly, but I still don’t want to bet on it,” shrugged Hermione. “It’s better not to trust anyone of them until we’re absolutely sure…”

“I agree, I agree,” Harry said, smiling at Hermione. “Good thinking.”

“Thanks – this is a good way to keep my mind busy and keep me from worrying about my memory lapses – let’s see what we can discover tonight, after dinner… we’ll do it together later when we’re free. I know you too well that I trust your instincts. And let’s not forget – we still have to go to the Library and see what we could dig up about the Metavira potion, maybe before supper…”

“Darn! I just remembered! I still have detention tonight…” Harry groaned

“Then let’s do it after you serve detention…”

“Then, how about the curfew?”

“You have an invisibility cloak, don’t you?” Hermione pointed out. She looked as if she couldn’t believe Harry would’ve forgotten about that. “Let’s use it.”

“Yeah, but remember what Moody warned us about relying on it too much…”

“Nah, I’m sure only about three people in the wizard world can see through invisibility cloaks,” Hermione said confidently. “Dumbledore and probably Voldemort. Moody can see through cloaks because of his magical eye…”

“I suppose…” Harry said uncertainly. “Okay, we’ll get my cloak just before dinner, and I’ll meet you outside the second floor boy’s bathroom – I’ll start cleaning up from there.”

“No way I’m keeping you out of my sight that time of night, Harry,” Hermione said severely. “They could get you easily when you’re alone serving detention. I’ll stay in the bath room with you…”

“But that’s a boy’s bathroom, Hermione. You’re a girl…”

“You’re cleaning it, right?” Hermione argued. “I could conjure an ‘out of order’ sign and hang it outside the door and nobody will come in…”

“Okay, okay, you win!” Harry laughed. “It’d be lonely cleaning the bathroom without company, I admit.”

“I won’t forgive myself if they got to you tonight because I wasn’t there for you…”

Harry didn’t say anything further, though he smiled in appreciation to Hermione’s concern for him. “Oh, I just remembered something,” he said shortly. “I think this will be my only chance to send this letter to Snuffles.” He took out an envelope from his robes and showed it to Hermione. He told her he wanted to know how and where Moony was after the warrants were sent out against him, and Hermione confirmed his letter’s contents were safely too general from an outsider’s point of view.

When they reached the Owlery, they found it crowded with some students who were calling down their own owls to send letters to their relatives. They found Ginny among them.

“I’m anxious to know how Mum and Dad are, and how the state of emergency’s affecting them,” Ginny explained as she waited for Pig to finish showing off his excitement of being given another assignment. “I hope they’re all right. I think this would be a good way to know what’s going on out there in the wizard world. I don’t understand what it’s like being under a state of emergency.”

“Good idea, Ginny,” said Hermione. “Could you tell us what they say and how they are after you get a reply? We’re worried about them, too.”

“Sure!” Ginny replied, smiling. “No problem!”

After seeing Hedwig fly off towards the horizon, Harry and Hermione got to the castle just in time for lunch at the Great Hall. Along the way, they witnessed a wizard leading three Ravenclaws and bringing them to some place they had no idea where. The students looked worried on their faces.

“What do you think that was all about?” Harry asked Hermione while he looked darkly at the wizards.

“I guess they’re showing they mean business about the two-man rule now…” she replied grimly.

They both saw Professor McGonagall and Snape walking briskly behind at the wizards’ wake. When they passed Harry and Hermione, they heard McGonagall say, “We got to see what they’re going to do with our students – but if they’ll start manhandling them or giving them trumped up charges, let’s give them hell!”

Harry then noticed the students around didn’t dare getting more than two in a group, and they had thought of a way to circumvent the rule by occasionally transferring groups. One example was Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. While the twins walked alongside each other, Lee was not far behind by himself. Fred would sometimes leave George for a while to go to Lee, and vice versa. But it still wasn’t the same as being a whole trio altogether. Harry knew he didn’t need to worry about violating the rule for now because Ron had separated himself from him and Hermione.

The talk over lunch among the students seemed to have been concentrated on the detention of the three Ravenclaws. Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, ate their lunch much more heavily than usual because foregoing breakfast made them so hungry.

“Glad you’re eating properly, Potter,” said Angelina Johnson from behind. “You need all the extra calories today – we’ll be having an extensive practice session at three o’clock today in the Quidditch pitch…”

Harry choked out his boiled potatoes. “But Quidditch always doesn’t start until March!” he said. “That’s still three months from now…”

“Quidditch season has been moved up,” Angelina said disappointedly. “Fudge announced that Hogwarts should show normalcy in these ‘difficult times’ and he insisted in demonstrating it by reopening the season this early. First match of the year is this Friday…Gyrffindor versus Hufflepuff.”

“In the snow???” Harry said incredulously. “We’ll freeze to death in this weather! Fudge’s crazy!”

“Shhhhh!!!!” Hermione said forcefully at Harry, looking around nervously for nearby wizards. They fortunately didn’t hear their conversation. “Watch your mouth – they might hear you!”

“But…but…” Harry said as quietly as he could. “In the snow???”

“As much as I want to, Harry, I don’t want to call it off,” groaned Angelina. “If I do, Gryffindor will forfeit the game, and we need all the points we could get to move ahead in the standings. Sorry, but we don’t have any choice but to play this Friday. I’m expecting you this afternoon at the pitch. This is our only chance for practice aside from next Wednesday – the administrator only authorized us to use the pitch for those days. Don’t let us down.” Then she walked off.

“I don’t believe this,” Harry growled. “I just don’t believe this!”

“Harry,” Hermione said, ignoring Harry’s unfinished tirade, “if you’re really worried about freezing to death under the snow, I could research for a spell to add more warmth to your Quidditch garb for the game – it won’t be difficult to find something.” Hermione took out her wand to illustrate her point.

Harry, however, looked apprehensive as he stared on Hermione’s wand. “Not that I’ve lost confidence in your magical prowess, Hermione, but h-have you taken care of that already?”

“Oh, you mean my wand?” Hermione said, laughing a bit. “Yeah, I did. I went to see Mr. Ollivander with Mum and Dad the day after we got home for Christmas, didn’t I tell you? Sorry, I think I didn’t…he replaced my old wand with a new one, but it still has the same core and wood material – only it’s just half an inch longer than my old one. He told me I had a very rare case of a failing wand, so he let me get chosen again. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glad to hear that,” Harry said, finally getting happy for Hermione. “I mean, it’s bad you had to spend more for a new wand, but at least we’re sure you’re back doing proper magic without worrying about creating accidents anymore…”

After they finished eating their lunch, Harry and Hermione went back to their dormitory to clean up for afternoon classes. Since Hermione would be having Arithmancy at the same time Harry would be in the pitch for Quidditch Practice, she insisted that she’d fetch him at around five in the afternoon at the north stadium entrance hall and that Harry shouldn’t go anywhere without her. Harry agreed and chose not to argue with her.

Harry and Hermione both had Potions from one to two-thirty in the afternoon. As usual, Snape was still unpleasant as ever especially for the two of them, but this didn’t seem to deter Hermione from approaching Snape to talk to him after dismissal.

“I don’t know what interest you have in the Metavira potion, Miss Granger,” said Snape impatiently to her at the teacher’s table while Harry looked on at a distance. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s useless and has no real value to me or to anybody else. Please don’t waste my time asking about its derivatives, too, because it’s not worth it.”

While they walked together along the corridors, Harry said to Hermione, “I think it’s useless to Snape because he’s jealous about Willard’s baby – he couldn’t have been given lots awards for it if it wasn’t useful, right?”

“That’s right,” Hermione said. “I expected not to get something out of Snape, but it didn’t hurt to try. Besides, we still have the Library. We’ll look it up after I fetch you at the Quidditch Stadium, okay? Remember, north side entrance hall…”

They now separated because of their differing schedules. Harry had to hurry up to change into Quidditch clothes in the dormitory to prepare for his – freezing – practice. Thinking that he or Hermione wouldn’t have the chance to be back at the Gryffindor tower anymore after practice because of their tight plans, he decided to bring along with him his Invisibility cloak like Hermione had suggested now just in case it was needed tonight.

-o0o-

Like Harry had known all along, Quidditch under the snowy weather was the worst time ever to play the sport. He thought playing the game in the middle of a cyclone was much more preferable than this one. Team members practicing their moves in the freezing weather seemed pointless because they all felt stiff and couldn’t maneuver well without bending their bodies to perform their wild turns. Harry’s team mates often chose not to do a speed boost, a critical move in Quidditch, because the chilly wind hitting their skins was simply too unbearable.

The only advantage in this snowy weather was that Harry could see the Golden Snitch more clearly in contrast with the snow (the extreme vibration brought about by its wings kept snow from building up on the ball), and his sun goggles helped him spot it more frequently than usual. Angelina didn’t complain of Harry’s performance the whole time, because on average the Snitch usually didn’t escape him more than twenty seconds after letting go of it again. Within two hours, Harry had caught the Snitch at least a hundred times.

Harry’s performance in practice today was enough to satisfy Angelina and she dismissed the whole team on schedule, much to everyone’s relief. At least they only had to endure the cold weather again twice after this on Wednesday and Friday.

Harry waited for Hermione as agreed at the north entrance after a welcome hot shower. The north entrance hall was a vast space with a forty-foot high ceiling and six double doors placed side by side leading outside to handle a large group of people going in and out without overcrowding. Two massive stairs flanked the entrance leading to upper level floors and vomitories to efficiently distribute spectators around the pitch. Harry looked like a tiny dot as he stood all alone in the middle of the silent entrance hall.

It was already half past five and there was still no sign of Hermione. The rest of the team had already left minutes ago, and Harry wished he had decided to just go with them back towards the castle, but an agreement was an agreement and he knew Hermione would’ve been hurt if she found out he left without waiting for her. Besides, if she failed to show up, he had his invisibility cloak with him.

So Harry sat down on a bench nearby and inspected his Firebolt to wait for Hermione.

“Mr. Potter,” said Madam Hooch, stopping by him while she carried the chest containing Quidditch balls. “What’re you doing here alone after practice?”

“I’m waiting for HHGhhskjsdHermione, Madam Hooch,” replied Harry. “We agreed to meet here around this time, but I think she’s running late.”

“Okay, but don’t stay here too long – there aren’t any other people around for half a kilometer and I know Headmaster Dumbledore doesn’t want that, right?”

Harry just nodded.

“Very well, I’ll just return this chest in the ball room right there and be on my way,” she said, smiling. “Take care, Potter.”

Harry watched Madam Hooch get in and out of the ball room, lock its door, and got out of the stadium. Soon, Hermione was running hurriedly towards Harry, looking drained.”

“S-sorry about this H-Harry,” she panted, and bent down to regain her breathing. “I swear I’ll never be…be late again for you!”

“It’s okay – but where have you been?” he asked, but he wasn’t angry with her.

Hermione didn’t answer at once, perhaps because she was still preoccupied with taking back her normal breathing, Harry thought. But Harry couldn’t help but suspect she may have forgotten what time it was, or…

“Hermione, did you just have another memory lapse?”

“No-no! Of course not!” she said severely, yet sounding slightly hurt. “How can you say that? You’d know if I did because I’d tell you at once, Harry. I just had to do some extra prefect work and it took a lot of time than I expected…”

“Okay, sorry if I brought that up…” but Harry hoped Hermione didn’t now choose to hide her memory attacks if it happened to keep herself from being treated further by Madam Pomfrey. He knew this wasn’t a good thing at all though he decided not to pursue it.

“C’mon, let’s go, and thanks for picking me up…”

That made Hermione smile and Harry allowed her to pick the route she wanted back to the castle. Hermione thought they’d save time walking through the interior walkways and exit at the south entrance, which was at the other side of the stadium. But to their disappointment it was sealed so they were forced to double back to the north entrance, hoping they weren’t locked in already.

When they were almost out of the north entrance (they were glad it was still open) they caught sight of someone outdoors at a distance walking towards the stadium. Harry, by instinct, pulled Hermione back and hid her behind the walls, hoping they weren’t seen.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione hissed.

“I think I just saw Russelpunk walking towards here.” Harry replied. “Now what’s he doing here?”

“So? That’s not strange at all, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, but we’ll just try to see what he’s doing here alone at a time like this,” Harry said looking around. “I’m interested…”

“Well, okay, but did he see us?” asked Hermione.

Harry peered out ever so slightly from the edge of the entrance’s doorway and saw Russelpunk walking closer. The professor was strangely looking back too often as if he was making sure he was alone that made Harry suspect even more he was probably up to no good.

“He didn’t see us,” Harry replied, facing Hermione again, “and he’s coming this way!” He opened his satchel and took out his invisibility cloak. “Good thing you suggested bringing this along,” he grinned, and wrapped the cloak on himself and Hermione, completely rendering them invisible.

After a couple more minutes, Russelpunk had gotten in the stadium. He kept looking around making sure no one saw him. Hermione immediately thought that it was mightily peculiar for someone to do this if his only purpose was to have a lonely afternoon stroll at the Quidditch pitch, and teachers weren’t restricted from visiting the stadium at all.

“I’m convinced, Harry; let’s see what he’s up to,” she whispered, catching on her interest to observe Russelpunk like Harry.

Russelpunk silently went over to the ball room, and when he found out it was locked, he took out his wand and muttered “Alohomora!” The door clicked open. Before he proceeded inside, he made a final check for any sign of other people outside and went in, closing the door behind him.

Harry turned to Hermione under the cloak. “Do you think it’s safe to get in and see what he’s doing there?”

Hermione considered it for a moment. “Maybe,” she then replied. “He might just think the wind blew the door open – okay…let’s go before we miss anything…”

They moved fast towards the ball room’s door, opened it gently, moved in, and positioned themselves quickly, as quietly as they can at a corner. Russelpunk was startled when the door opened wide, and pointed his wand at the ready as if he was expecting to be attacked. But after a few moments of silence and no sign of anyone, he moved over to the door, wand still at the ready, and looked carefully outdoors. Deciding no one was really around he shook his head and closed the door again.

“This door is probably a thousand years old,” laughed Russelpunk nervously, and went straight to the narrow section of the room where the chest containing the Quidditch balls was resting on a niche. When he succeeded to open it, he laughed as if he was like a kid in the act of creating a nasty practical joke.

For Harry and Hermione, hearing Russelpunk laugh like this while doing something they could not see was very eerie as it was scary. Just as bad was they couldn’t squeeze themselves at the narrow space near the chest without being felt by Russelpunk to have a closer look. The professor kept on laughing for a few more moments like an excited little tyke, then finally closed the chest, and started his way back towards the door. He opened it, and before he got out, he again looked around to make sure he wasn’t seen. At last he was outside and Harry and Hermione heard the door lock again after it was closed securely.

Harry removed the invisibility cloak over his and Hermione’s heads, and stared at the chest.

“What do you think that was all about, Harry? And why was he laughing that way?” Hermione hissed, looking extremely puzzled and shocked after witnessing Russelpunk’s highly suspicious behavior with her own two eyes.

-o0o-

Chapter 13 coming soon. New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter, so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again, I thank you for reading this story.

To some of the readers of this fic, I’d really appreciate it if you drop a review, too. Thankssss!

14. The Stray Snitch

Author’s note: Thanks for waiting for this update. I’ve been quite busy lately as usual. I hope this chapter has been debugged of mistakes, but I think I’ve missed some. I’m still thinking there are sloppy parts in this chapter, so I’ll try to find and improve them. Please kindly leave a review and tell me what you think of this chapter. Thanks! I’ll try to post the next chapter as soon as I can.

Chapter 13

The Stray Snitch

Russelpunk had been barely gone for a minute, yet Harry and Hermione had virtually not moved an inch and had not said anything. They were busy figuring out for themselves what their DADA teacher had been doing with the chest that contained Hogwarts’ official Quidditch balls alone in the ball room.

“Hermione, do you think he had tampered with one of the balls?” Harry asked her finally, not even sure if this was the reason why Russelpunk had been here. He probably had other motives, but this was the first thing that came into Harry’s mind.

Hermione moved around and pondered the possibility, but like Harry, she was not sure about that, too. “I don’t know, Harry. Why don’t we try and examine the balls to find out if he did?”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was the most obvious thing that he would have done first right after Russelpunk had left, but it never came into his mind at all. Perhaps it was because he was a Quidditch player, and the thought of opening up the chest without Madam Hooch’s knowledge was the most dishonorable thing he could do in his life. Therefore, it took him long enough to make a move towards the chest.

“Hermione,” he said undecidedly, “why don’t you…”

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes this time. She immediately understood why Harry was so reluctant to even touch the chest. She went over to it, knelt down on both knees, looked for the latch, and opened it.

At first glance, the balls looked untouched and normal. Hermione then looked back at Harry and said, “So which one do you think he manipulated?”

“It’s the Snitch,” Harry replied confidently. “He mentioned today it’s the very thing he was most interested on. If it’s the Bludger, he would’ve been knocked out on the spot…”

Hermione found the info about Russelpunk’s specific interest for the Snitch highly surprising and suspicious; Harry told her about his conversation with Russelpunk about Quidditch in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class she missed today. Hermione nodded her head after she heard Harry’s story and turned her attention back to the Snitch, which was securely fastened inside its own mini-compartment.

“Do you think there’s some kind of an alarm when I touch one of the balls?” she asked apprehensively while opening the mini-compartment. She examined the Snitch very closely without trying to touch it.

“I don’t think there are,” Harry said, thinking deeply. “Remember that Dobby had once rigged the Bludger and nobody found out…”

Convinced, Hermione removed the Snitch, and handed it over to Harry. As soon as it landed on Harry’s open palm, it fluttered its wings. Harry looked at it closely for any signs of damage or sabotage, but he couldn’t find anything yet.

Harry then prodded it upwards, making it fly around the ball room in its usual abrupt manner. He allowed it to stay airborne for a few silent minutes, ready to take note of any unusual behavior, and at last caught it when it strayed in the path of his quick grasp.

“Well?” Hermione said expectantly.

“Looks okay to me,” Harry muttered. All along he was certain Russelpunk had sabotaged the Snitch in some way, but Harry at the moment was inconclusive. “Do you think we should go tell Madam Hooch about this?”

Hermione immediately shook her head. “No, Harry,” she said seriously, “she’ll know we’ve been inside the ball room illegally and we’ll surely have lots of explaining to do…”

“Then how can we know for sure the Snitch hasn’t been tampered with?” Harry asked her patiently. “The game’s next Friday…”

“You have one more practice session on Wednesday, right?” Hermione said after she thought about it. “We’ll try to find out if it’s been sabotaged then – if it was, we’ll tell someone of what we know. How about Dumbledore – though we must only tell him after we’re certain it’s rigged and we’ll tell Russelpunk on him then. Otherwise, he will think we’re just be reacting out of our imagination.”

Harry agreed with her at once. He’d only let the Snitch loose for a few moments, and the best time to really observe it for unusual behavior was next Wednesday. At least, he didn’t have to worry about the match on Friday yet.

“Okay, that’s a good idea,” he said finally and Hermione smiled, though in a reserved way. She couldn’t also help but suspect there was something wrong with the Snitch, too.

“You know, I’m starting to feel Russelpunk’s not a good guy anymore,” Harry said darkly as he gave back Hermione the Snitch, which she carefully returned in its slot. “I was thinking about telling him about the dreams I had about him, but now I don’t feel like it…”

“Harry, we don’t know what he did with the balls today,” Hermione said while she closed the chest. “He acted strangely and a bit scary moments ago, yes, but we shouldn’t judge him yet until we’re quite sure what he’s really up to - though I admit I feel the same thing you do. Tell you what – let’s make a new rogues list and Russelpunk’s suspect Number Two…”

Harry managed to chuckle amid the seriousness of the matter knowing about Hermione’s practice of listing down her own suspects when some kind of conspiracy was afoot. “So who’s suspect Number One?” Harry asked testily.

“Whipple, of course,” she said brightly. “And that includes everyone Fudge has sent in from the Ministry. There’s just too many of them and if we put Russelpunk at the bottom of the list, he’d be number twenty…not good…”

Harry and Hermione agreed that after detention they would definitely check on the place where Harry had found Russelpunk hovering alone in the dark the previous night. They hid themselves under the Invisibility cloak and got out of the ball room as quietly as they could.

Dinner was still more than an hour to go so they decided to use the time up towards it by researching about the Metavira potion at the Library. The prospect of spending time in the library poring over books provided Hermione a very good reason to smile as she walked awkwardly with Harry under the cloak. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have been lost in thought wondering about how Russelpunk might be a threat to him now that he had actually witnessed his bizarre behavior.

The grounds seemed deserted then, except for more than a few wizards patrolling around randomly. Harry and Hermione had not been spotted so far, meaning not all the wizards could see through the cloak as Moody had feared, which was a good sign that the cloak could still be relied upon when doing some detective work (though they were still not sure about Whipple and some other wizards). They decided to take off the cloak behind Hagrid’s hut because reappearing in the middle of the grounds would look suspicious for the odd wizard who might spot them. Ignoring Fang’s excited barking from Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, they walked casually towards the castle for the library with the cloak bulging under Harry’s robes.

-o0o-

“I think I’ve found it!” Hermione exclaimed as softly as she could in the library after opening up her the next book from the stack of thirty possible references of the Metavira Potion.

“About time!” Harry yawned, closing a very thick and moldy Manual of Deadly Magical Concoctions by Crisselda Poizen. “What, then, is Metavira?”

Hermione cleared her throat.

“Metavira,” she read orally, “was discovered in 1982 by an amateur potions hobbyist named Willard Waldo Wraskon. Preceding its discovery, more than ninety five percent of medicinal potions that existed for serious magical maladies lacked an unknown ingredient to sustain their healing effects for an extended period of time. Potions researchers over a thousand years had not been able to devise such an ingredient, thus magical accidents were almost always treated with charms because potions were not too dependable remedies until then.

“The Metavira Potion is a mixture of 95% Wiggenwald potion, 0.50% essence of fallow sap, 4% Quinkard syrup, and the rest by a series of simple spells to bind all ingredients together to create a potent mix. Metavira proved to be a valuable missing link to thousands of potions invented before it to treat ailments and injuries, boosting the power of existing working potions, and has opened the doors for the discovery of other important potions thereafter, which includes Nuron, the long sought-after cure for DZT (the dreaded degenerative disease comparable to cancer for Muggles).

“Metavira also proved to be useful for other than medicinal purposes only as many scientists and chemists have discovered more about its secrets a decade after its introduction. Enterprising wizards have noticed it was also an excellent ingredient to sugarless candies to eliminate the side effects of sugar substitutes, food and beverage manufacture, and product packaging, among its other uses. Because of its wide range of applications, Mr. Wraskon was awarded the Crisanthium Prize, the highest award for magical science. He has vehemently refused to patent his own discovery and donated its formula the Wizards Potion Masters Society, thereby forgoing the fortune he would have amassed if he agreed to otherwise. Instructions to properly make the Metavira potion can be found in Appendix G…”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other silently because besides knowing what Metavira was really about, they didn’t quite get why Voldemort might be interested with the potion.

“If Willard had really donated the formula to the public,” Hermione mused, “why then would Voldemort kidnap him at all? He could just buy this book and he could do it all by himself – even a nine-year-old can do it, I bet…”

“Right,” Harry said, his eyebrows furrowing with the question. “Perhaps he saw potential in Willard’s talents? Voldemort might be trying to mix up something for a specific reason, so maybe that’s why he also had his sights on other famous potions masters – the big question is…what?”

Hermione nodded. “Even if we list all the potions Willard and the other scientists had done throughout their lives, it would be next to impossible to find out what their potions can do if we mix them all up together. There are literally millions of possibilities!”

“Concentrating on that would be a big waste of time,” Harry groaned. “Damn you, Voldemort! What’re you up to now?” he growled quietly.

“At least we know what Willard had contributed to the wizard world,” consoled Hermione. “I’m very glad to know Metavira was invented for something good. Can you believe Snape? I don’t think the potion is useless – he’s just a bitter little prat. I wish Voldemort took him away instead of Willard…”

Harry sighed. He agreed with Hermione that it was relieving to know the true background of the Metavira potion, but it also introduced more questions than answers. He began to feel sad about Willard again. It was not a pleasant feeling to keep wondering how he was right at the moment, if he was even still alive. Coupled with his newfound uncertainties about Russelpunk, his mind began to buzz constantly.

“I think I have a big headache now…” Harry grunted, rubbing his face and head with his hands. Hermione looked on at him sadly because she knew all what was happening around her and Harry was indeed having a big toll on them. Hermione sighed deeply and began collecting some of the books they have pulled out of the bookshelves.

“Maybe you’re just hungry,” she murmured, hoping that this would help Harry think of other things besides the most recent disturbing events. “You stay here and rest a little while I return all the books, and we’ll go to the Great Hall for dinner together, okay?” She then looked on at Harry fondly, smiling.

Harry nodded at her gratefully, thanked her, and rested his head lazily on his arms. He had almost fallen asleep moments later; he jumped a bit after he realized he had drifted off. He wasn’t sure for how long he had slept, but by looking at the stack of books at his front, he guessed he had for only less than a minute. Hermione hadn’t taken off more books from the stack and she wasn’t nearby because she might have gotten some books from a far shelf, he thought. Thinking that she still had a lot of walking back and forth to do because of the volume of books they have brought at their table, he decided to help lessen her burden.

He took a big chunk out of the tall stack. Luckily, most of the books he handled belonged to nearby shelves and he didn’t have to walk far from their table. After half an hour and only two more books to go, Harry began to wonder where Hermione might be - she had not returned for a long time to get some more books.

It was almost dinner so the library was almost deserted, except for Madam Pince who was busily reorganizing the unreturned books of other students on a cart just a few shelves away.

“Madam Pince,” Harry called her quietly. “Have you seen Hermione somewhere?”

“Yes, Potter,” she replied loudly (she was the librarian, so she thought she had the power to violate her own rules). “Row E, but that was a long time ago. I’m sure she’s still here – I know who’s getting in and out of the library without even looking at them – students, teachers – even animals and the few ministry wizards who seem to have developed an interest with my book collection…” she trailed off with perceptible pride on her face.

Harry thanked Madam Pince absently, and he decided to try Row E anyway. He had a bad feeling about this, and he thought he had a strong suspicion of what might have happened to Hermione already, if she still was suffering from her medical condition. As Pince had said, she saw here last and there was no sign of her there. Getting his bearings, Harry guessed the path she might have chosen to walk back towards their table from Row E, and like being in a grocery store, he checked all the adjacent rows. When he got to Row G, Harry dropped his breath.

Hermione was slumped on the floor, with some books splattered around her; part of her body leaned against a bookshelf and she looked unconscious. Harry ran over to help her fearing that she might have had another attack. Just as soon as Harry had reached her, she stirred.

“H-Hermione, what happened?” Harry said breathlessly. He knelt down beside her, removed a couple of dusty books on top, and helping lift her head up.

“Harry, I-I don’t know,” she said groggily and weakly. “How long have I been out?”

“No idea,” Harry replied, now helping her sit up. “I guess you just had another attack – you know, your memory lapses…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s – “ she then paused as if she had realized something and then said, “No – No! It was not a memory lapse – I’m perfectly fine…”

“We must get to Madam Pomfrey – she said to tell her each time you had…”

“NO!” Hermione shouted. “No! My problem is absolutely gone – I swear! I just, I just…” she looked around, obviously trying to think of a good reason why Harry had found her in this state. “I was just reaching for a good book and I guess I was too eager and some fell on my head – yes, that’s it!” She then rubbed the top of her head and winced in pain.

Harry, however, was not convinced – Hermione wasn’t a very good actress. Still, out of instinct, he tried to examine Hermione’s head for injuries, but she fended off his hands as he tried to reach it.

“D-Don’t worry, Harry,” she said, pushing Harry’s hands away from her head, “I’m okay…help me up, will you, please?”

Hermione slowly stood up with her own strength from the floor; Harry gave her support by pulling her up by her arms. Hermione seemed to be frail and she struggled to balance herself upright even though she leaned on Harry very heavily.

“Hermione, please don’t be afraid to see Madam Pomfrey – she’s the right person who could help you…”

“No, I’m all right! I don’t have a condition anymore!” she growled furiously. She now looked straight into Harry with tearful eyes. “Please?”

Harry was at a loss on what to say or do next. As much as he wanted to help Hermione out with her medical problem, which seemed to be worsening rather than tapering off, he also couldn’t force her to see Madam Pomfrey if she didn’t want to. It was either she refused to seek help or was in denial that she wasn’t getting well at all.

Hermione wiped her tears quietly and didn’t wait for Harry’s response. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late for dinner…” she sniffed, and pulled Harry by his hand. They walked together silently towards the Great Hall. It was Harry who was the most pensive between the two and Hermione had noticed it.

“Harry,” she whispered, “please don’t worry about me – “

“But you’re not well!” Harry reasoned gently, stomping his feet on the floor and facing her as they kept walking. “I don’t want it to get worse…”

“I don’t deny I still have a problem,” she interrupted gently, surprising Harry. “But I’m afraid if I go to Madam Pomfrey tonight, she might insist to admit me in the hospital wing and I can’t stand by you when you serve detention…”

Harry stopped on his tracks as he stared at her, and Hermione turned to face him. The look on her face was unmistakable. She was more worried about him than for herself and this made Harry feel guilty more than ever. Hermione was actually more concerned about his safety than risking going down to the deep end by ignoring her condition.

“Harry, not tonight, please?” she pleaded. “For me?”

Harry didn’t answer and just stared at her.

“If it happens again next time,” she continued, “I promise I’ll agree to see Madam Pomfrey anytime. But not tonight, please?”

“Are you feeling fine right now?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I don’t feel bad at all – I swear…”

“Just this once, Hermione,” Harry conceded reluctantly after a long pause. “Just this once…I’ll literally stun you if you refuse to see Madam Pomfrey when it happens again – I don’t know why I’m saying that…”

Hermione broke into a smile, and went on to embrace Harry wholeheartedly. Harry, however, was still unwilling to give in to Hermione’s twisted wishes but hoped that was the last of her memory attacks so that he didn’t have to make good his threat to stun her.

“Just one question,” he said as they broke apart. “What was the last memory you had before you had another attack?”

“Leaving you at the table and replacing some books at Row G,” she replied, starting to walk to the Great Hall again. “Then blackness – and then I saw you looking down at me…” she trailed off.

Harry merely nodded and didn’t say anything else anymore.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione ate their dinner with the rest of the school without much talking. Hermione was slightly ashamed at Harry for attempting to lie about by she had passed out (though she never mentioned it), while Harry’s mind was overloaded with thoughts pertaining to today’s distressing events. Hermione’s dementia attacks was an additional worry for him on top of what he saw in the ball room with Russelpunk earlier, and the unknown reason for Willard’s disappearance. His mind was literally buzzing with overlapping concerns that he didn’t remember what he had been chewing at all (good thing Harry didn’t swallow the paper of his cupcake).

Hermione, who had put her recent memory attack behind her quickly, was at the same time preoccupied watching Russelpunk darkly while he eating his dinner at the teachers table as she munched her pie. McGonagall strangely wasn’t in the Great Hall tonight for dinner, she observed.

For the first time like Harry, Hermione deeply suspected Russelpunk had a hidden dark secret beneath the clumsy personality he had portrayed to the whole school since the opening of the school year. Was it that he was a secret asset of Voldemort who was also into the plot to capture Harry? What she saw today in the ball room was merely suggestive of something sinister judging from his eerie laughter, but she knew she had to have incriminating proof to link with the effort to hand over Harry to the Dark Lord. She felt another severe headache coming. She squeezed her forehead as she staggered slightly forward towards her dish.

“You okay, Hermione?” asked Harry concernedly. She just nodded, trying hard to wear an assuring smile, but this didn’t cause the desired effect on Harry.

“…I tell you, it’s beginning to get more distressing by the day,” said Seamus from across the table in the middle of a conversation with Dean Thomas, Neville, and the Weasleys.

“Why, what happened?” Harry asked, making Seamus look at him as if he wasn’t listening. Harry looked around and saw worried looking faces surrounding him.

“Didn’t you hear what I say, Harry?” said Seamus impatiently. “Professor McGonagall was relieved as Deputy Headmistress this afternoon…”

“What???” exclaimed Hermione, looking horrorstruck and forgetting her headache. “Why…why? What happened?”

“Remember the three students from Hufflepuff were caught violating the two-man rule?” Neville replied for Seamus. “McGonagall tried to defend them in front of Whipple – she let slip of what she thought about Fudge and it wasn’t pleasant, I hear. Whipple judged she made a dissenting opinion against the ‘true authority’ and arrested her on the spot.”

“How did Dumbledore take it?”

“I don’t know - he’s still here. He might try to bail her out in London but he had not done so today. Nobody’s sure if Fudge would budge – he’s become a monster already…oops!” Neville covered his own mouth and looked around for signs of ministry wizards nearby. Fortunately there wasn’t.

“So what happened with the students?” Harry asked next.

“Expelled. Arbitrarily.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed again. “That’s highly irregular! That’s…that’s just wrong!”

“SHHHHH!” everyone hissed around her, panic stricken, including Ron.

After Hermione, it was now Harry’s turn to squeeze his forehead. He had his own headache coming. This was another unfortunate event that made a tight situation they were in much more troublesome. He didn’t know how he could take it much longer, and he still had to start serving detention tonight.

“Who replaced her?” Hermione said.

“It’s not been announced yet,” replied Fred, “but I hope it’s not Snape…”

The expulsion of the three Hufflepuffs had an instant effect on all the students, and it was evident after dinner when everybody was expected to return to their dormitories. Nobody seemed to be willing to fight their way through the exit of the Great Hall because everybody may have thought they might be detained when they crowded it. Harry became impatient and wormed his way through the reluctant crowd with Hermione in tow.

“I really don’t like what’s happening at all,” he whined as he had cleared the exit to the hallway.

“Who does?” Hermione said in agreement. They got the answer quite instantly.

“Looks like you’re beginning to lose some real good friends, Potter,” drawled Draco. “First it’s Weasley, now McGonagall. I know it’s going to be Granger the next time…”

“Don’t listen to that rubbish,” Hermione urged Harry at once who was looking daggers at Draco, pushing him further away. “You know that would never happen.”

“Yeah, what does he know about you, right?” Harry grunted.

They both headed towards McGonagall’s office to get his clearance I.D. for detention, but they weren’t sure how they were going to get it now that McGonagall was brought forcibly out of Hogwarts. They went in her office anyway, which was unlocked, hoping that she had left Harry the I.D. somewhere before she got sacked. Who they found sitting behind her desk gave them quite a shock.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” said Horace Whipple, looking up from doing some paperwork, “I’ve been expecting you to come here tonight to get your clearance I.D.” He pulled open a drawer and took out a shimmering card with Harry’s name on it under the bold letters saying “Detention” and “After Dinner to Ten for Ten Nights”.

Harry suddenly felt insecure inside McGonagall’s office facing the man that might be the leader of the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. He felt that anyone could jump and cover his and Hermione’s heads with a sack and it’s “hello, Xanthius” all over again, though he did his best to look unnerved in front of Whipple. Hermione thought of the same thing, too, because she kept looking around especially behind her. More so, Harry didn’t dare to say anything at all lest he would say something accidentally that would cause him to be expelled, but Hermione thought otherwise.

“Administrator Whipple,” Hermione said severely, “what do you think you’re doing inside Professor McGonagall’s office?”

Harry snapped his head at her, both shocked and speechless at her boldness.

Whipple, however, smirked and replied “It’s unfortunate that she denounced the Minister of Magic today and that caused us to arrest her in the spirit of the State of Emergency, Miss Granger. Since the Minister didn’t trust any of the teachers to replace her, he appointed me as Deputy Headmaster, Officer-in-Charge.”

Judging from the look of Hermione’s face, Harry knew what was coming.

“Why, he’s a… Ow!” Hermione shrieked. Harry had stomped on her foot to stop her from talking her way to more trouble.

“What she’s trying to say, sir,” Harry said quickly, “that it was good for the Minister to appoint someone immediately to the post to prevent a power vacuum in the school…isn’t that right Hermione?” Harry stared at her sternly, silently warning her to shut up. Hermione however, just looked away from either Harry or Whipple begrudgingly.

“Yes, yes, he made a very quick decision, and a good one at that,” Whipple said. He handed Harry his clearance I.D. “Make sure you present that to the security wizards upon demand. Miss Granger, you have clearance to accompany Mr. Potter wherever he goes. Good night, both of you.”

Harry didn’t wait a second too long to get out of the office at the soonest possible time. As soon as they got out of the office (Harry exhaled deeply and shook from head to foot), Hermione growled “I can’t believe you said you thought having him in that office in there,” (she pointed at McGonagall’s door angrily), “was the best thing that ever happened to this school! I was just about to protest that in front of him!!!”

“And you get expelled in process? No, thanks. Be thankful I stopped you, Hermione,” Harry said hotly.

“Better expelled than sucking up to that prat!”

Even though Harry wanted her to realize that was the stupidest thing to do in the present state of affairs in Hogwarts, he chose not to infuriate Hermione further by just keeping quiet all the way to the first floor boy’s bathroom. As soon as they reached its door, Harry turned to Hermione and said, “I think I can take it from here, Hermione.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” she frowned, “you heard what Whipple said. I can now look after you as much as I want – I have clearance. I can’t leave you here all alone – something bad might happen to you!”

“Well, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway if you got expelled tonight,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione paused and momentarily her face went pale after she realized what she almost brought herself into. “Merlin’s beard…you’re right! What was I thinking of back there???” she said, slapping her forehead.

“Keep your cool from now on if you refuse to let me out of your sight,” he replied, smiling away from Hermione’s sight. A bit of reverse psychology worked on her. He walked inside the door and conjured a pail full of soap water, some scrubbing tools, and a large mop and then prepared himself to go to work. Hermione walked in next, settled herself down on a chair she conjured for herself to watch Harry do some cleaning.

Professor Flitwick entered the bathroom seconds later, making Hermione blush and say, “Oh, sorry, Professor, I’ll be out by the door until you finish…”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Granger - as you were,” the tiny teacher chuckled. “I’m supposed to see if Harry’s doing his work for detention because Minerva has been transported to London to contest her arrest.” Flitwick then frowned. “Those wizards are getting out of hand and Fudge’s so evil now I couldn’t recognize him anymore.”

Harry and Hermione murmured in agreement.

“I trust Harry will do what he was ought to do, so he doesn’t need my attention, I’m sure,” Flitwick squeaked. “I still have a lot of grading to do for the next few nights. Besides, I fully trust the brightest witch of our age to watch over you, Harry.” Hermione beamed after hearing Flitwick’s kind words, and she bent down very low towards the professor, because he was signaling to her that he wanted to whisper something on her ear.

“Why don’t you use…” was the only perceptible words Harry could hear from Flitwick and he got back to cleaning the tiled floor. Hermione’s face, meanwhile, brightened while Flitwick whispered something more to her. He ended it with a wink, and whistled all the way out of the bathroom.

Harry smiled as he watched Flitwick’s back disappear behind the door. It was nice to know Flitwick trusted him not to try to escape detention, which he has no intention to do at the first place. Cleaning the deep-seated grime on the tiles around the vast bathroom was hard work at first, but soon the dirt seemed to have become much softer to remove and less tiring to scrub, much to his pleasant surprise. Hermione, meanwhile, was now humming to herself at a corner, tapping her wand on her thigh at even beats.

“I can’t help but think Whipple arrested McGonagall just to take over her job,” said Hermione halfway through Harry’s detention.

“Yeah, me, too,” Harry mumbled.

“Do you think he might be gunning for Dumbledore’s office down the line?”

“He can if he wanted to…Fudge seem to have given him lots of power, don’t you agree?”

Hermione clicked her tongue and shook her head. “If that happens then the Death Eaters’re going to have free reign around Hogwarts. I think Whipple had all the chance in the world tonight inside McGonagall’s office to wrap you up like a present for Voldemort – I wonder why he hadn’t done so then. I think it’s because I was with you…”

“They can’t really do that while Dumbledore’s still here, right?”

“Oh – that’s true…” Hermione said, her cheeks going red. “But having no McGonagall surely will make our lives more difficult…”

Harry couldn’t agree less.

“Hermione, I didn’t really mean what I said to Whipple back there,” Harry said soothingly a little later. “I just said that to save you from being kicked out…”

“I know, Harry,” she grinned. “I know. And thanks for stepping on my foot, I needed that.”

Harry grinned back at her and laughed. The boy’s bathroom gleamed like new a little later. Harry couldn’t believe it, but it took him less than an hour to finish everything what seemed to take ages to even scratch the top layers of grime, let alone making everything squeaky clean. “I think I’m done for tonight,” he said, stretching and snapping his finger joints.

Hermione was slightly startled and stopped humming (the soapy sponge Harry last used then ceased to move around in circles - he didn’t notice it). “Oh, wow!” she said brightly. “Well done, Harry, well done! Now can we go and take a look at Seymour’s office?”

“Sure, I’ve been looking quite forward to it,” said Harry, making all the cleaning tools vanish from sight with his wand. “That wasn’t so hard like I thought it would be,” he thought loudly. “Got the cloak with you?”

Hermione nodded and pulled out Harry’s invisibility cloak from under her robes and spread it over their heads. They both carefully trekked to the section of Hogwarts where Filch’s storage room was located. They had passed by a number of security wizards who didn’t sense them at all.

“It’s still an hour until start of curfew, so let’s take our time,” Hermione hissed, and Harry nodded. They reached their objective and looked around for any sign of clues. As usual at this time of the night, the corridors were dark and they could disappear through the blackness without being seen for more than a hundred feet from any direction (except for the dim firelights at the opposite end of the corridors). They carefully removed the invisibility cloak while looking around to allow themselves more freedom of movement.

“Can’t see a thing at all,” Hermione whispered. “Use the Nocturnal Charm on your glasses, Harry.”

Harry nodded in the dark, took off his glasses, tapped it with his wand, and muttered, “Nocturno!” Putting his glasses back, he could now see ahead of him as bright as day. “Here’s the door to Seymour’s office,” he said. “Russelpunk looked like he was very interested in this office…and damn, it’s locked…”

He tried the Alohomora Charm, but it didn’t work. He cursed under his breath and tried to look through the smoked glass on the door; he could not see anything inside, too. Harry examined the door more closely and looked up – he saw a clear-glass transom on top of the door. Then he understood.

“Russelpunk was hovering because he might have been peeking through that transom,” Harry hissed at Hermione.

“Okay, so try to see what he saw that night then,” Hermione suggested quietly. “I’ll levitate you – Wingardium Leviosa!” She guided Harry up just at the right height to let him see through the transom. “So, what, do you see?” she said, looking around alertly for any sign of movement from the corridor.

“Have you ever been inside Seymour’s office, Hermione,” he asked. “I mean, he keeps asking for your help…”

“No, never,” she replied.

Harry tried to see what was inside the office that looked really intriguing. The office had the usual table and chair – unopened boxes were strewn around (Harry thought Seymour had no time to unpack his belongings). The only thing that stood out was an old chest beside his chair. Harry tried to see if the transom was fixed or if it can be opened – maybe he could slip through it. Unfortunately it was the awning type. Even if he was the skinniest person alive, he could not fit in through at all. Harry longed to open the chest just a few feet away and see what was inside of it – he was so intrigued of it. He felt Hermione tugging at his pant leg from below urgently.

“Harry, I think I could feel somebody’s coming,” she hissed. Harry looked around, and he saw Russelpunk just meters away feeling himself in the dark. Panicking, he landed on the floor quickly and fumbled with the cloak, just in time to cover himself and Hermione when Russelpunk used his wand to illuminate the area. They moved to a much safer spot and Harry was the only one who could see what Russelpunk was doing.

For Harry’s extreme annoyance, Hermione snatched his spectacles to try to use it and see what Russelpunk was up to but she returned it shortly. His eyeglasses might have been too much for her perfect vision.

Russelpunk seemed to be eager to get in Seymour’s office. He tried a few spells and charms on the door knob, apparently trying to learn them earlier today, but he failed each time to open the door. Perhaps Seymour had subjected his lock with a very powerful locking spell of his own, Harry thought. Russelpunk roared as quietly as he could out of frustration, and hovered to see through the awning like Harry had done earlier. Shortly, Russelpunk pounded on the stone wall, landed back on the floor, and walked away fuming.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before anyone does see us,” Harry whispered to Hermione, and they started to move back to the Gryffindor tower.

They didn’t find anything at all tonight, except for the fact that Russelpunk wanted something badly from Seymour’s office. The question for Harry and Hermione now was “what?”

-o0o-

With the common room void of other students late in the evening, Harry and Hermione talked in hushed voices beside the fireplace to discuss Russelpunk’s probable motives for acting ever so suspiciously. Harry had seen him doing such things for three times already, Hermione two.

“I’m afraid I’m also as stumped as you are, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I don’t have good theories to what Russelpunk did to the balls this afternoon, and his interest of something in Seymour’s office. It doesn’t make sense…I can’t connect the dots.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Harry said, blowing out some air. “I can’t help but think Seymour is probably the uncorrupted wizard from the Ministry Olga talked about, and Russelpunk is Whipple’s secret agent. I bet Whipple sent Russelpunk to sabotage the next Quidditch match…”

“Why? To hurt you?” Hermione asked. “I don’t know what good it’ll do if they want to take you out of Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey is so strict with hospital wing security. I found that out earlier this term, but I admit she’s a little lax sometimes. Chadron almost tried to stab Dumbledore to death and nobody saw him. I’m sure they’d have a hard time spiriting you out of the hospital wing. Besides, if Russelpunk rigged the Quidditch balls, we’ll know by Wednesday at practice…”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, staring at the dying fire. “We’ll try to see if my theory’s correct – Seymour always sees you, maybe you could keep observing his demeanor…”

“So far he seems okay - he’s a little bit demanding sometimes, but very gentle in the end. I hope we’re right about him, but sure, I’ll take a good a look at him – even Dinky.” Harry nodded at her gratefully. Hermione then stood up from her seat, stretched, and yawned. “Lots of shockers happening in one day,” she said. “It’s absolutely draining. We need to get some sleep…”

Harry nodded at her again and said, “Sure, good night.” She started to go up the spiral staircase, but Harry called her softly.

“Hermione,” he said and she stopped to turn around to look at Harry. “Thanks for being a big help today – and thanks for watching out for me…”

Hermione grinned. “Thanks for doing the same thing for me, too, Harry.” Giving Harry another grateful smile, she walked daintily up to her dormitory and disappeared from sight.

Harry breathed and stared back at the cinders in the fireplace. He thought he was beginning to adapt pretty well with a life of not having Ron around anymore, and he admitted it made his relationship with her much stronger than ever before because they had never been together more constantly like this. Harry knew Hermione was his only true friend left he could fully trust as each passing day seemed to get more dangerous for him with more disturbing events. He didn’t know what it would then be like anymore if something terrible happened to her, too – most importantly, her seemingly incurable dementia attacks. That was about the only thing he kept worrying about most.

-o0o-

Lucius could not seem to stay put in a single spot for more than a minute the whole night. His plan was going on pretty well as expected, but he could not help but think his original idea, which was still operational, was flawed.

He knew the Dark Lord was getting impatient for results. Lucius had the daily habit to reassure him that all was working as planned and he will deliver Harry Potter “very, very soon” but he knew his time was running out. He didn’t dare to divulge to the Dark Lord the first stumbling block they have experienced during the holidays for fear of his wrath. The Death Eaters were working with Plan B all along from the very beginning.

This was what Lucius was concerned about the most. It was all too late to change the plans lest he’d delay even more further the delivery of his package to Voldemort, yet he was tempted to just get it over with and do away with the meticulous measures. He could have done just that but it always boiled down to…

“I can’t get Potter with Dumbledore around,” he growled. Even if he’d found a way to get rid of him, the magic in Hogwarts was still too strong to snatch Harry Potter just like that, as they have learned by being unable to take over Hogwarts the last time. Removing Dumbledore was just a mere step closer towards the final objective but concentrating on that too much and worrying about the Hogwarts magic next would mean more delays, and he didn’t want the Dark Lord to think he was just buying time.

“How do we lure Harry Potter out of Hogwarts and pounce on him?” Lucius kept asking himself over and over again. As if a deity from down below had answered his silent evil prayers, a Death Eater went inside his office at his manor for some encouraging development.

“Our people have reported from Hogwarts,” the Death Eater announced. “There’s a way to get Harry Potter possibly before the end of this week thanks to Rowwel Russelpunk - if you agree to deviate from the old plan!”

“Talk to me!” Lucius said, encouraged with the news. The Death Eater laid out the proposal from the agents at Hogwarts in front of Lucius, and each word he muttered made Lucius’ face grow brighter.

“That’s excellent,” Lucius said excitedly. Sticking all along with Plan B wasn’t for naught after all and it had paid off, he thought. “Tell them I approve of the new plan – it’s way too much better than what I have conceived! Before the end of the week, they say? I couldn’t hope for a result with the old plan within weeks! Good work! If possible, bring the asset along with Potter – the Dark Lord will surely have the pleasure torturing and killing the Mudblood.” Lucius cackled with the thought. “Keep me posted all the time with the arrangements – I must give the final approval to move.

“I’m confident our mission will be done soon,” said the Death Eater. He didn’t wait for a second longer and went on to notify the people at Hogwarts that the new plan was a go, leaving Lucius in his den cackling with laughter.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione couldn’t wait to know what Russelpunk might have done with the Quidditch balls until Wednesday afternoon. The days before that were uneventful, and like before, Hermione wished there was a way to speed up time magically.

On Tuesday, they had the usual DADA class with Russelpunk. Harry and Hermione chose to sit at the back of the class and didn’t feel like participating with the teacher who had called them to demonstrate some useful defensive spells they have suggested at the first place. Russelpunk looked visibly troubled why Harry and Hermione had suddenly become dry with him and why they had all sorts of alibis why they thought some of their classmates deserved to be at the receiving end of his lesson, much to Ron’s disadvantage. Harry and Hermione kept avoiding Russelpunk altogether in class and along the corridors the whole school week.

“Do you think he suspects why we’re suddenly avoiding him?” Hermione asked Harry on the way towards their Potions class Tuesday afternoon.

“Who cares?” Harry replied apathetically.

Hermione became busier with her prefect duties towards Wednesday. Sometimes she wasn’t with Harry for an extended period of time and she was often seen assisting Seymour and his partner. Still, she always found time to spend with Harry in the end and they both derived more pleasure by being alone with each other every time. They sometimes acted as a loner kind of couple, preferring to distance themselves from the other students. Perhaps they hadn’t noticed it at all, but they were actually growing fond of each other as time went by, even feeling disappointed together when they had to separate to get to their own dormitories for bedtime.

Their growing affection didn’t stop them from concentrating on the most pressing concerns they laid out for themselves. Wednesday afternoon had come; Hermione watched Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team very closely (from her snow-covered seat) practice for their next match with Hufflepuff. She had her eyes peeled all the time for any signs of strange behavior to all the four balls of Quidditch, which was a very difficult thing to do in real practice. Shivering and rattling in the extreme cold made that even much harder.

Harry had caught the Snitch dozens of times ahead Angelina’s screams of “Chase the Snitch even if it takes you all the way to Alaska!” Their ticket to the Quidditch Finals leaned heavily on Harry’s ability to catch the Snitch at the next game if the Chasers couldn’t shoot more goals than Hufflepuff.

Hermione felt slightly disappointment instead of relief seeing nothing out of the ordinary with the balls for today’s practice. The Bludgers acted normally, and the Snitch didn’t go beyond what it was designed to do. The Quaffle was the least magical of the three and it obeyed every law of physics. She concluded that the balls weren’t rigged as they have suspected all along. It made her even confused. She kept asking herself what Russelpunk was doing in the ball room last Monday afternoon. Harry looked as mystified as her when the team was dismissed before six in the evening.

“I don’t understand it,” Harry said in detention that night.

“Me, too,” Hermione sighed. “We’re supposed to be glad nothing was wrong with the balls, but why aren’t we happy?”

“Maybe we were hoping Russelpunk would be the bad guy…maybe he just wanted to see the Quidditch balls up close last Monday,” Harry conceded. “I mean, we shouldn’t have judged him like that at once – he might be okay after all.”

“How about his other obsession outside Seymour’s office?” Hermione reminded Harry.

“I don’t know, but he’s just attracted to something inside there, probably – he really does act like a little kid like everybody says. Boys will be boys…” Harry shrugged.

“I suppose,” Hermione said quietly, although she still had a nagging thought of Russelpunk otherwise. “And we treated him like a traitor yesterday…”

“We’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt from now on, what do you think?” Harry proposed and Hermione agreed with him, though halfheartedly. By Thursday, Harry and Hermione resumed talking to Russelpunk like they had before, much to his pleasure. Maybe they could learn more about him much more closely if they did.

-o0o-

The match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff came as scheduled on Friday morning. Despite the bad snowy weather that didn’t seem to let off, Horace Whipple had insisted on not calling it off to show normalcy in Hogwarts. After all, it was what Fudge had demanded from Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic traveled all the way from London to witness it. For the sake of protocol and courtesy, Dumbledore sat beside Fudge at the central tower of the stadium, though they didn’t exchange the usual pleasantries. Dumbledore was extremely furious with Fudge because of McGonagall’s unjust detention.

Hermione had settled at her usual place at the stands and cheered for no one but Harry. She felt confident that there would not be any untoward incident for this game because the balls weren’t rigged like they thought. The only thing that made her feel awkward was that Ron also took his usual place beside her.

“How are you, Hermione?” Ron said timidly to her for the first time ever since the holidays. “How’s Harry, too?”

Hermione didn’t smile at him, still feeling angry with him for what he had said to her back at the Great Hall about Krum. Too late the hero, she thought.

“Fine,” she said coldly, and shifted her body away from Ron. Ron didn’t say anything else and just tightened his lips like he always did when he felt very guilty of something.

“AND T-T-THEY’RRRRE OFF!” Lee Jordan announced through the sound system. “H-h-huffle-p-p-uff is l-l-leading the standings, b-b-but will G-G-Grrr-Gryffindor be on t-top of the list after todays g-g-game?” He was obviously shivering and having a hard time talking in the cold.

Twenty seconds into the game, Angelina scored the first ten points for Gryffindor. The whole of Gryffindor went wild amid the “boos” from the Slytherins. Harry was hovering high up above the pitch, searching for the Snitch like a hawk, and skillfully dodging a bludger that was sent to him by a Hufflepuff beater.

The Snitch seemed to be much harder to spot in a real game than at practice, and nobody really knew why. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Wilson O’Brien, shadowed Harry rather than actively searching for the Snitch by himself.

“Hufflepuff S-scores!” groaned Lee. “Score is t-t-tied at ten each!!! Oh, t-talking under th-this w-w-weather is impossible!” Lee then suddenly resigned for the rest of the match (except to tell the scores) and most of the game was watched without his commentaries, with much protest from the fans. After all, McGonagall wasn’t around to force him to keep commenting.

Thirty minutes later, Gryffindor had gained over 170 points over Hufflepuff. Even if the Hufflepuff seeker caught the Snitch, Gryffindor was guaranteed to take the lead in the standings. For Angelina, an additional hundred fifty points could also give them a very comfortable lead over the other three houses, and she didn’t let Harry up with her demands to still look for the Snitch to clinch the game.

“What’s the matter with you, Potter?!?” she roared when she hovered beside him. “Why can’t you find the Snitch like you did at practice???”

Harry didn’t look at her, and still scanned the whole area for any sign of the Snitch. Then his eyes caught a glint just beside the Gryffindor goal post. He dove his Firebolt towards it.

“Go, Potter, go!” screamed Angelina.

The startled Snitch zoomed away evasively from Harry’s outstretched hand. An exciting chase ensued amid the roars of the Gryffindor house. Harry rolled, turned as abruptly as the agile Snitch around the pitch. He fought numbness across his face due to the cold wind as the Snitch struggled to widen its lead ahead of him. They were speeding from the Hufflepuff home court all the way through the length of the pitch, and they quickly approached the other end.

Harry expected the Snitch to change course before it went out of bounds and prepared well for it. However, it kept on going until they had gotten out of the pitch. Surprised and beffudled, Harry stopped in midair uncertainly while he watched the Snitch keeping on zooming away towards the Forbidden Forest. Most of he spectators became silent because it was strange for the Snitch to do that – it never been out of the pitch for centuries.

Harry looked around for Madam Hooch for guidance, and from the edge of the stadium he saw a yellow blur speed off to run after for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker didn’t hesitate and went out of the pitch to go after it.

“Potter, you idiot!” yelled Angelina. “What’d I say to you? Go after the Snitch even if it takes you all the way to Alaska!!!”

The Hufflepuff Seeker was now a tiny yellow speck from Harry’s position. Because of his determination to get to the Snitch first, he leaned over his Firebolt to speed up and pursue it, too. From the stands far away from Harry, Hermione looked tremendously afraid. She knew this very wrong and highly suspicious.

“Harry! Harry! Don’t do it!!! Come back!!!” she screamed. Her classmates looked on at her in bewilderment, not knowing what went into Hermione’s mind to try to stop their Seeker from earning more points for Gryffindor.

Harry was now zooming at full speed away from the stadium, and now he was over the Forbidden Forest. He had gotten within feet behind O’Brien who was almost on top of the Snitch; it was just a few inches away from his hand. Harry grunted, squeezing even more speed to his Firebolt. The Snitch went on straightly, seemingly adamant not to stop at all.

O’Brien’s Cleansweep Seven was no match to Harry’s Firebolt, and soon Harry had overtaken him slightly. The Cleansweep had an emergency booster attached to it and it fired. The two Seekers were now abreast at each other. Harry was confident the booster pack would not sustain itself for more than two minutes, so if he kept on going O’Brien would be left behind soon. However, O’Brien suddenly decided to get aggressive and go against the rules by ramming Harry to the side in an attempt to dislodge him.

Harry was shocked at O’Brien’s conduct. He fought to remain on his flight path and on the broomstick even if O’Brien kept on bumping him, but then he felt an arm go around his neck! Furious, Harry snapped his head towards O’Brien to retaliate, but what he saw almost knocked him off his broom by itself.

The Seeker was not from Hufflepuff, and he had a Death Eater mask on his face! It was a trap! Knowing he was in extreme danger and all alone now, Harry punched an elbow on the Death Eater’s ribs and tried to fight off the locked arm around his neck. Harry was precariously losing his grip on his broomstick. He struggled to get free of the Death Eater’s grasp, but he was just too strong.

Almost left with no air and with one more desperate effort before he passed out, Harry reached for the Death Eaters neck and choked him from under the chin. He didn’t let go with the neck and the broomstick with his other hand. The tide soon had turned against the Death Eater because he was denied of air to his lungs much quicker. Harry took the opportunity to whisk his Firebolt away from his attacker. He looked for his bearings, and accelerated to escape back to Hogwarts.

His attacker now used magic to catch Harry from behind. Taking out his wand, he whipped it like a lasso and it caught Harry right around his arms and chest. He tried to take the lasso off him, but it was impossible – it stuck to him like glue. Determined not to lose this fight, Harry struggled to stay on his broomstick - his only ticket to safety back in Hogwarts, even if it meant breaking his ribs by pulling the Death Eater all the way up to there. Hogwarts still looked tiny from where he was; the lasso around his arms and chest was taking a toll on his strength like it was also draining his energy gradually. He felt his consciousness ebbing away with every inch he traveled. Still, Harry refused to get caught by the Death Eater and fought on stubbornly even if his Firebolt was losing speed.

Finally, Harry’s hands didn’t have enough strength to grip his Firebolt and he saw the broom fall to the ground ahead of him to a hollow in the Forest. Harry was now left hanging in midair by the lasso, which the Death Eater held from up above. Fighting sleepiness, he saw a small clearing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest up ahead where his Firebolt had landed, and a couple more Death Eaters waiting for him at the middle of it. They were wearing the robes similar to what he saw in the graveyard with Voldemort, and in Xanthius when he was there last.

Soon, he felt his feet brush against the grass jutting out of the snow. The Death Eater on the broomstick snapped the rope off his wand (though the rope around Harry was still binding him) and he slumped on the ground. To weak to resist, he felt some hands grab his arm and drag him to another spot in the clearing. He heard laughter all around him – laughter of sweet success, laughter for his defeat. Harry couldn’t believe after suspecting all along the Snitch was tampered with, he still fell for the trap.

The Death Eaters had him at last for Voldemort, Harry thought, and there was no one around to help him now.

-o0o-

Chapter 14 coming soon. New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter, so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again, I thank you for reading this story.

15. Reunion of Friends

Author's note: Thanks very much to Ridxwan again for reviewing, and also to the anonymous reviewer! I'm glad to know the story is going well for you both, and hopefully for the others, too. We're approaching the - uhm - let's just say, the *shocker* of this story, which will lead to the eventual climax a few chapters down the road. I think it will now be revealed in the very next chapter, according to my estimates. Our heroes after that have a very difficult time in their hands. There's your “preview”! (grin).

Please tell me what you think about this chapter by leaving a review (as usual, I think it's a little lousy and still needs to be improved). You keep me guessing when you're not reviewing (hehe).

Chapter 14

Reunion of Friends

Harry could barely open his eyes because the rope that bounded him had absorbed most of his strength. He had expected to pass out already after being bound for a long time but the spell seemed to have reached its apex, as if it was not meant to be powerful enough to entirely put anyone to sleep. He was still conscious and he could still think well, but still the power of the rope prevented him from doing anything to at least try to escape.

He opened his heavy eyelids as he lay full down on the snow-covered but grassy hollow, and through the gaps between the grasses he could blurrily make out three people approaching him. Soon, he felt being pulled up to his feet. Being too weak to move, the gravity was simply too overwhelming for him to even resist. He could only move his eyes around to see what was going on the Death Eaters dragged him towards the thick line of trees tens of yards away.

“This turned out to be easy after all,” laughed one Death Eater. “I thought we were still stuck in this stinking place for four more weeks…good work on that spell, Dwight.”

“Yeah, it'll be good to be back on friendly ground,” replied Dwight. “The Dark Lord will surely honor us after this - I can smell it! I can't wait to see Bill's green face when we get back to You-Know-What. But I should have used the Cruciatus Curse first - I really miss doing that…”

“We're way ahead of schedule,” said the third, with a noticeable worry by the sound of his voice. “We still have about a little more than ten minutes to go until the portal opens in the middle of the hollow. Let's hide under those trees while we wait…”

“Look at the bright side - we've been working our arses off for months just to get Harry Potter,” Dwight said. “What's ten more minutes?”

For Harry, ten more minutes meant more time for time for him to think of something to escape. Or it was ten more minutes being bounded this energy-draining rope than what was necessary - he felt like he was constantly at the verge to vomit but he could never throw it up.

“Eight minutes,” said a Death Eater.

“Look, two students on broomsticks!” Dwight said, pointing up towards the hollow. “D'you think they'd spot us, Jake?”

“Not in a couple dozen feet,” replied the Death Eater named Jake confidently. “They'll be gone in minute.”

With a ray of hope of being found and rescued, Harry tried to see who they were talking about. How lucky would he be to have a chance of someone searching for him flying overhead, he thought. His vision was still slightly blurry, but he could make out the two students who were slowly flying in circles up in the bright grey sky. They look fuzzy because of his vision, but he swore one of them had unmistakable bright red hair.

“Could it be Ron?” he prayed.

He hoped he was right, but Harry didn't know how to call him down - he tried to yell, but no voice came out of him. For a few moments, the Death Eaters kept their silence, looking up at the students on the broomsticks intently while Harry behind them desperately thought of a way to seize his only hope for rescue's attention.

Harry then remembered how. After all the time they had not spoken to each other, he almost entirely forgot he shared something with Ron, a gift that even Hermione could not understand but wanted to possess, too.

Harry closed his eyes, and still hoping it was really Ron up there looking for him and that he had put aside his hatred towards him to save his friend, he concentrated deeply.

Ron, if you can hear me, I can see you from here…at the edge of a hollow… Harry thought hard, hoping he still had the power of telepathy with him.

H-Harry? Is that you? Which hollow? I can see too many from here.

Encouraged by the result of his efforts, Harry opened his heavy eyelids again and frantically looked for something to describe for Ron.

“Why aren't they leaving?” growled a Death Eater.

“What're you worried about, Jim?” laughed Jake. “Don't tell me two wet-nosed Hogwarts pupils can take on three Death Eaters like us? Even one of them is a Mudblood!”

With Jake's description of the other, Harry knew the other student was Hermione. He would have cried on the spot feeling happy - it was as if it was the long-sought for reunion he had wished for after Ron had distanced himself from the trio, but Harry knew this was not a good time to celebrate yet. Then, like another miracle, Harry saw a small herd of deer get out of the forest to graze at the hollow. They were so brown it was impossible to spot them from straight above.

“The hollow with the deers, Ron! The hollow with the deers!” Harry cried out inside his mind.

“I see them! Hang on, Harry, we're coming!” Ron said, and Harry saw Ron and Hermione descend quickly and settled in the middle of the hollow. Harry knew that wasn't a good move.

“Damn! How did they see us??? Let's show them who's boss!” barked Dwight. “Jake, stay with Potter while we deal with those nosy little kids!”

“Ron! Watch out! They're coming out to get you! Get out of there and find some cover!”

“Hermione, Harry said they're coming out for us!” Ron urgently told Hermione.

“W-where? How many?” Hermione asked, dropping her broomstick. She anxiously looked around, her wand extended pointlessly at the ready. The first curse flew between them, missing Ron by a couple of inches and he ducked. Hermione hit the ground and tried to look where the curse had come from. The startled deer galloped around the hollow in panic and fled back to the forest.

“From there!” Hermione pointed as another curse zoomed from the forest towards them, almost hitting Ron again if he didn't fall down sideways to avoid it. “You all right, Ron?” she yelled.

“Yeah! C'mon - let's make a run for it to the forest!” Ron grunted, standing back up. He grabbed Hermione by the arm and pulled her up. “Run to the side!”

Hermione conjured a series of Shield Charms to at least give her and Ron some sort of protection while they ran for cover to the trees, but she knew it was too weak to rely on. A well concentrated curse shattered it, hitting her at the left shoulder. She fell down and shrieked in pain.

Ron had gone a few feet ahead of her. When he felt that Hermione's hand had slipped off his grip, he got back to her, lifted her up from the ground, and supported her as she resumed running in a slight limp.

“Just a little more toward the trees!” Ron panted, shielding Hermione from more curses with his body. More poorly-lead and aimed curses whizzed dangerously close behind them. Ron shot a few of his own while running full out, but they could not penetrate the thick spot of trees that the Death Eaters have naturally used to their advantage. Each of them stumbled a few times, rendering them dangerously stationary for a few brief seconds each time they fought to regain their footing. At last, they had reached the edge of the hollow and quickly took cover behind a large tree. The last curse had bounced off it and the Death Eaters had stopped shooting.

“You all right, Hermione?” Ron gasped, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve.

“My shoulder's just a little sore, but I can take it,” she winced, resting her head on the trunk and closing her eyes to take back her breathing.

“C'mon, Harry still needs our help and we might lose them in the forest,” Ron said. “And watch out for ambushes!”

Hermione nodded obediently at him. “Let's follow the edge of this hollow,” she said, slightly weaker. “They're only a few yards from where we are…”

Cautiously but as quickly as they could, they moved at a crouch towards the place where the curses came from earlier. But when they got within yards of it, the curses came zooming back. Ron and Hermione instinctively hid behind the trees again for cover.

“Hermione, let's advance one after the other - once I get behind a tree you dart out as fast as you can to another one - repeat until we get within fifty feet and we'll talk about our next move again. I go first…” instructed Ron. Without waiting for her answer, he jumped out of his hiding place, exchanging fire with the Death Eaters.

As soon Ron had successfully reached another tree and dove behind it for cover, Hermione popped out next to gain more ground, wand blazing, and bracing for but praying against the possibility she'd be hit. As she expected, the curses concentrated on her again, but she had safely reached and hunkered down on a natural trench. She was now severely bruised where sharp twigs have ripped her clothing, but she was ever so determined to get to Harry quickly.

Hermione sensed they were getting nearer to the Death Eaters, because she could see one of their heads peeking out behind the roots within a few meters and hearing their voices. Frenetically thinking of another good spell to use, she spotted a scared rabbit straying at the crossfire; she then decided to use the poor creature for a while.

“Sorry, Bugs, but we need your help,” she whimpered after deciding on what to do. “Laconifirs!”

The rabbit stopped abruptly under Hermione's spell and she hopped it to the spot where she last saw the Death Eater hide his head. The rabbit leaped and disappeared over a thick root, and she heard a scream from behind it. The rabbit had sunk its sharp nails deep on the Death Eater's face! The Death Eater stood up in panic straight from cover and yelled in pain as he tried desperately to remove the rabbit from his bloody cheek.

Hermione quickly took advantage of his vulnerable state and bellowed, “Lartigo!” A thin electrifying whip shot out of her wand and clasped the Death Eater's leg, electrocuting him and sending him to the ground, rendering him unconscious, and letting go of the rabbit.

Infuriated with Hermione's excellent marksmanship, the remaining Death Eaters began using even more powerful curses because the tree she used for cover now shook very violently when the spells slammed on it. They seemed to be venting their ire on Hermione now because were concentrating their fire on her. The tree was subjected to a series of barrages that it threatened to fall on down her any second. Hermione could not leave her spot without exposing herself to danger and she held her head with both hands and screamed beneath the violence of it. Worse, the tree was barely giving her enough cover and concealment.

Ron could not get out of his hiding spot more than twenty feet away to help her evacuate. He decided he had to do something, quick! In a desperate move to draw the Death Eater's fire away from Hermione, Ron popped out from behind his tree and bravely advanced towards the Death Eaters, much to Hermione's horror and surprise. She had not seen him take on something like this that threatened his life.

Shortly she heard Ron yell in pain as a curse had hit him squarely on his chest when he charged. Ron fell and slumped to the ground heavily, and he ceased to move.

“RON!!!” Hermione screamed. Disregarding her relative safety by getting out of cover, she ran towards Ron to check on him. “Ron, speak to me!” she wailed, but Ron's eyes looked on blankly ahead, and he looked lifeless. “RON!!! P-please don't be dead!”

When she tried to reach for his wrist to feel his pulse, she heard running footsteps from behind her. It was too late for her to react.

She felt a raspy hand grasp her neck and it lifted her back painfully away from Ron. She didn't know where the enraged Death Eater had come from and he threw her hard against a trunk of a tree, pinning her still by the neck. She was rapidly losing breath; she tried to point her wand at him, but he wrested and threw it away from her. Teeth gritting, Hermione fought, kicked, scratched, and struggled to wrench off from his grip. She glanced at the jet black murderous eyes beneath the mask of the frightening Death Eater.

“Prepare to die now, Mudblood!” growled the livid Death Eater; he pointed the tip of his wand on Hermione's temple. Hermione closed her eyes in scared anticipation to die like the Death Eater had threatened, but seconds had past and no curse had been muttered. Bewildered, she opened her eyes and she saw the Death Eater again - he didn't feel menacing anymore. In fact, there was terror drawn in his eyes as he looked beyond her back. Hermione didn't understand why.

“Run for it!!!” the Death Eater screamed, and he let go of Hermione's neck. She fell down to the ground and coughed for air. Looking around while she regained her breathing, she watched the Death Eaters running and yelling away in panic, one of them carrying their unconscious comrade. They disappeared deep in the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione didn't think of finding out what they had fled from because she remembered Harry at once. She ran to the spot where she thought he was, and with a breath of relief, she saw him lying down on the ground, bound but still breathing. She ran over to him and removed the rope magically.

“Harry! You okay?” she breathed, helping Harry lie down upright.

Harry stared at her and nodded weakly.

“Thank goodness! You wait here for a minute - I got to check on Ron, okay? He's hurt bad!”

“Okay,” croaked Harry.

Hermione again ran back to Ron's spot - soon she stopped dead on her tracks when she saw Dumbledore walking towards her and already carrying an unconscious Ron on his arms.

“Miss Granger, Ron's alive, but please help me bring the boys to the hospital wing immediately!” Dumbledore said calmly. “We must not stay a second too long here - I reckon there might be more of them.”

Hermione nodded gratefully at him, and she felt relieved for the first time that she didn't have to deal with the Death Eaters alone anymore now that Dumbledore had come just in time scare them off, saving her from possible death. She quickly ran back to where she had dropped the broomsticks she got from Madam Hooch's broom shed earlier. She scooped them up and doubled back, fortunately finding Harry's Firebolt along the way, too.

Since she wasn't strong enough to lift Harry on her own back to Hogwarts, she strapped him securely on a conjured stretcher mounted on his Firebolt.

“Very good thinking. Ready to go now, Hermione?” asked Dumbledore, and Hermione nodded. Dumbledore slung Ron over his shoulders and got on Ron's broomstick.

Shortly, a portal opened in the middle of the hollow and a few people poured out of it, but Dumbledore and Hermione were already at a safe distance escaping towards Hogwarts they didn't see the portal.

-o0o-

“Harry's stirring,” Hermione breathed excitedly in the hospital wing. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey quickly walked beside Harry's bed. Ron, meanwhile, tried to get off his bed to see how Harry was.

Madam Pomfrey flashed a light and checked on Harry's eyes. Harry found the light too intense for him after being out cold for a long time and avoided staring at it, much to Madam Pomfrey's delight.

“He's not blind, thank goodness,” she breathed. “Victims of the spell like the one used on Harry usually only see blackness for the rest of their lives.”

“Harry, you okay?” Hermione asked him, brushing his messy hair gently with her hand. She wore a sling around her left arm.

“I am now,” Harry said happily but still significantly weak. “I thought they had me back there - thanks to you…hey, where's Ron?”

“I'm right here, mate,” winced Ron, walking slowly towards Harry's bedside. He had a bandage wrapped around his chest, and he looked weak. “I'm glad you're back - Look, Harry, I'm sorry for everything…” he added meekly.

“No, forget it, Ron,” Harry said gently.

“I didn't try to save you just to make it up to you…”

“You don't have to prove anything,” Harry grinned with effort. “But thanks for trying to save me - I knew we could still count on you…”

“I'm very sorry for all the things I've said to you and Hermione…”

“I said forget it…”

“I don't blame you for hating me a lot - I've been an ungrateful and humongous prat. If you don't want me back, I can understand…”

“Ron!” Harry and Hermione bellowed together, and Ron fell quiet.

“I said it's okay,” Harry assured and smiled again. “Forget it. I'm really glad we're back as a trio again…aren't we?”

“Me, too,” Hermione added. “We missed you, Ron.”

Ron inhaled deeply and let out a happy gush of air out of his lungs. “Yeah…yeah, thanks to both of you for having me back,” he said, looking at both Harry and Hermione cheerfully. “You two are the best - you've always been! How about it?” He extended his hand, which Harry and Hermione took. Then they went into a group hug. Dumbledore looked on at the three friends with extreme satisfaction.

Hermione, meanwhile, was obviously overjoyed that they were at peace again with Ron that she laughed and had become teary eyed.

“Harry,” she sniffed, squeezing his hand, “You know, I thought we already lost you to Voldemort. I knew there was something wrong with the Snitch - I was about to go after you myself, but Ron stopped me and asked what was wrong. I told him what I thought was happening and he said you needed our help. We raided Madam Hooch's broomstick cupboard together - when the Snitch had returned and you weren't back…” she then trailed off and cried, but stopped when Harry took her hand and kissed it.

“Boundless loyalty from your best friends is one of the most wonderful things,” Dumbledore chuckled, “after love, of course.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said, startled at the first sight of him. “I'm so sorry I goofed…”

“No need to apologize, Harry,” Dumbledore chuckled. “It wasn't your fault…I reckon you had no choice but to catch the Snitch before the other team did or else Miss Johnson would have ripped your head off.”

“It's me who's going to rip her head off, sir,” growled Hermione. “She was the Quidditch Captain, and she should have known Snitches aren't supposed to get out of the pitch - the referee will declare the game suspended if it does. I didn't really hear what she said to Harry, but I saw her egging him on to chase after the Snitch. If she hadn't…”

“Calm down, Hermione,” interrupted Dumbledore, smiling. “Please calm down. Angelina, I think, can be easily forgiven. She didn't have a single clue about the plot at all. With her innate desire to stay ahead of the race for Gryffindor, she did what captains had to do and pushed Harry to keep going after the after Snitch.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I'm just thankful we have Harry back again alive. We must watch out for the future, though we must also learn from our past mistakes and do better than to fall into more traps.”

“Professor Russelpunk is an accessory, Headmaster,” said Harry. “He's probably Voldemort's asset here along with the Death Eaters…”

“Hermione already told me about that, Harry. I will have a word with him soon - when I think it's safe to do so…”

“Then why can't we have him arrested, Headmaster?” demanded Hermione. “We saw him doing something to the Snitch inside the ball room…”

“Not until we're certain he did cause the Snitch to act the way it did today,” Dumbledore sighed, “and not until we have more incriminating evidence against him. We can't just bring him in to the Ministry - knowing Fudge, he will dismiss it without question and his wizards won't do anything unless he approves of it. He just refuses to buy anything that would suggest Lord Voldemort is out to get Harry, much more believe that he's even back. I'll investigate Russelpunk, I promise you, and you must trust me on this. At the same time as a precaution, I must also ask you not go near him except for your Defence Against the Dark Arts class.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron nodded, but with extreme disappointment.

“Hermione, you're hurt!” Harry said when he finally noticed her sling.

“This'll come off tonight,” she replied, feeling happy knowing Harry was concerned of her. She sat beside him on the hospital bed. “Despite what happened, I'm so glad you're safe again, Harry. Professor Dumbledore's been right all along - now that we know Voldemort's really after you, we must be extra careful this. I'll be always at your side, Harry…”

“Ditto,” added Ron. “Only if that bloody two-man rule is history, I think…Hermione proved to be a better protector for you than I am so I think you're better off with her than with me for a while.”

“No, I'm not,” Hermione laughed slightly. “Look what happened to Harry…even if you sometimes don't make sense with your ideas, Ron, I think he would've been safer with you…” she then went quiet and bowed her head. Ron didn't take offense with what Hermione had said - he knew that was a good sign that he's back to normal terms with her and Harry.

“Hermione, are you blaming yourself with what happened to me?” Harry said quietly.

Hermione stared at Harry, pursed her lips, and new tears fell down on her cheeks. She couldn't talk any further and she merely nodded to answer his question. Harry didn't know what to say, but fortunately Dumbledore spoke for him.

“No one is to be blamed for what happened to Harry today, Hermione,” Dumbledore told her gently, and she looked at him, still teary eyed. “Sometimes even the most powerful and wisest wizards do fall to all kinds of traps and deceit from their evil foes. We're all not immune to that, but the least we can do to correct it is to pro-act and deal with the results of our mistakes head on with the best of our abilities, and to learn from that experience. You and Ron did just that today. You were not losers at all - you've all emerged as wiser wizards. You three have constantly exceeded my expectations for years, and that's why I'm again extremely proud and impressed with what you've done today.”

“Well, well, well,” Cornelius Fudge interrupted as he entered the hospital wing with Horace Whipple, Seymour, and Dinky. “I see a bunch of injured students today.” He stared at Hermione with her many cuts, bruises, and the prominent sling she was wearing, then at Harry and Ron. “That doesn't look like the usual class accident, does it? I've been hearing rumors they got into a fight outside Hogwarts with outsiders. Would you care to explain what's going on around here, or are you losing control of your students' safety and welfare now, Albus? They're not supposed to end up in the Forbidden Forest at the first place…”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at Fudge. Though Fudge did his best not to look unfazed by it, he shook ever so slightly it was noticeable.

“Oh, that's not true at all, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said calmly, his facial expression relaxing a little. “We already have too many security wizards sent by you to make sure that never happens, don't we?”

“What's that supposed to mean, Albus?” Fudge shot back.

“Harry Potter here,” Dumbledore explained, “was lured by three unknown Death Eaters by rigging the Snitch to take him far from Hogwarts. They almost kidnapped him for Lord Voldemort, if not for the gallant efforts of Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to save him. I'm very certain those three wizards were part of your own contingent, as I have pointed out to you before…”

Fudge rolled his eyes and looked as if he thought Dumbledore was making up more stories about the return of Voldemort.

“Ha! Another likely story from you, old man,” he laughed. “Death Eaters from the Ministry - how preposterous! You're truly getting more senile as I've suspected all along. In the first place, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is history, and there are absolutely no Death Eaters alive today to speak of, much less near around Hogwarts.”

Whipple and the rest of the wizards murmured in agreement.

“What happened today was the Hogwarts Snitch had malfunctioned.” Fudge pressed on. “Potter chased after it - and you sure got a good excuse to whip up this cock and bull story…how convenient. Now I challenge you - did you identify the three wizards who were the so called Death Eaters, hmm? Potter? Granger?”

“I didn't see their faces, sir,” Harry replied, “They had their Death Eater masks on, but they had the name of Dwight, Jake, and…sorry, I forgot the last one…”

“Ho!” Fudge guffawed. “The usual excuse - Death Eater masks…overused.”

“And we don't have wizards named Dwight and Jake in our roster,” said Whipple.

“There you go!” Fudge said triumphantly.

“Then they must be using aliases,” Dumbledore suggested.

“Yes, so Whipple, Seymour, and I are the Weird Sisters,” Fudge snorted, but stopped abruptly after realizing he called himself something unpleasant. “Oh, make that Burton, not me…” Fudge referred to Seymour's partner who Harry had called `Dinky' ever since.

“But we saw them, Minister,” Hermione then said, peeved about Fudge's hard headedness. “We fought them - and we almost got killed!”

“I didn't ask you a question, girl!” Fudge snapped at her. He paused for a second while he stared at her. “But now that you mentioned it, you have quite a fertile imagination to tell such stories, too, like your crazy Headmaster here. You, miss, should be lucky I'm not in a bad mood today. Otherwise, what you said was enough to send you to Azkaban for suggesting You-Know-Who's active with his Death Eaters. I suggest you read the emergency law if you have time.”

Hermione went red on her face; Harry tugged on her sleeve to calm her down.

“You have testimony coming from your honorary member of the Ministry of Magic, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said. “Shouldn't you take what she says seriously? After all, you personally signed her certificate early this term.”

Fudge took another scathing look at her, and said, “Then I revoke it!”

Hermione's certificate at the head of her bed back at the Gryffindor tower burst into flames at the same time, making Lavender Brown splash a pitcher full of water on it in panic.

“I don't really need it, sir,” Hermione countered, feeling extremely insulted.

“One more word from you like that, girl, and you're going to Azkaban!” Fudge threatened. Hermione moved and sat on another bed, and folded her arms defiantly. Dumbledore winked at her to tell her to keep her cool from now own.

“I see power has intoxicated you many times over, Cornelius,” said Dumbledore coolly. “I'm so disappointed with you - I had high hopes for you…”

“I don't owe you my job, Albus,” growled Fudge. “And it's none of your business how I do it, nor you can tell me what I do. I'll be personally overseeing the running of this school for a few more days, Albus. I'll be watching you very closely and pray I don't find anything on you that will cause your dismissal or suspension.”

“Of course, Cornelius, do anything you want as usual,” Dumbledore said, bowing his head curtly. “That's what you really wanted all along, didn't you? And may I know who's helming the Ministry of Magic when you're here in Hogwarts?” asked serenely. “Let me guess…Lucius, perhaps?”

Fudge's face turned purple, but he didn't say anything else further and whipped around to walk out of the hospital wing. “Whipple, Seymour, Burton…” he called. In a few seconds, they were gone, and Dumbledore slammed the hospital doors loudly with his flick of his wand and turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a huge smile.

“Harry,” he said, turning serious again, “I got to go and meet with the faculty. I'm very sorry I cannot be at your side all the time as much as I want to, so must ask you to be even more vigilant around you - and that includes you Ron, and Hermione. Don't keep Harry off from your sight as much as possible, but at the same time remember not to get caught being a trio. I don't want you to give them an excuse to separate anyone of you from Harry. I'm betting my own Pheonix they planned for this rule to be enforced because they know of you three. Do I have your word?”

Ron and Hermione nodded at him; Dumbledore then took his leave. They all looked at each other next, knowing very well that their situation had not improved at all and that they were still in extreme danger.

Harry frowned. “I can't believe he's leaving us all over again after what happened! Do you really think Dumbledore will closely watch Russelpunk like he said?”

“If he said so,” Hermione replied, “then there's nothing we can do but trust him. He's never failed us before, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but he hasn't really lent us a hand directly, either.”

“But you heard what Dumbledore said, right?” said Hermione. “He told us we had exceeded all of his expectations. That means he trusts we could look after and protect ourselves - I think we're not little kids anymore and we don't need constant attention from him…”

“What if we don't get lucky next time?” Harry ranted. “Do we really need to take ourselves that far and then he acts too late? I think he's too overconfident. I just wish he could just kill Voldemort for everybody for once, and then we'll all have peace…”

Ron murmured in agreement.

“Harry, you're sounding like a spoiled brat,” Hermione said, managing to smile.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and calming down instantly. “But we can't just sit by here and do nothing. There's still something we can do. We could keep an eye on Russelpunk - I feel he's the most important leak to everything going on around here. He's going to do something else again, maybe tonight - I can smell it.”

“But, Harry!” Hermione said severely. “You heard what Dumbledore said - he doesn't want us near him at all except for classes…”

“We can then use the Marauders Map,” Ron suggested.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Ron,” said Harry. “I'm interested what we can find in his office, too. Maybe we could learn what he's hiding from there, or get something to incriminate him…”

“Me, too!” Ron said. “Count me in.”

Hermione, however, was slightly hesitant to concur with that idea. “Harry, the Marauders Map, I can agree with. But breaking in his office - I don't know. I have a bad feeling about that.”

“What's wrong with you?” Ron said irritably. “Chickening out?”

Hermione threw him a scathing look. “All I'm trying to say, Ronald, is that Harry charging around in Hogwarts after being almost kidnapped to spy on Russelpunk - I think - is the most reckless thing to do at the moment!” She then gazed at Harry, who wore a thwarted look on his face.

“Let's just not get too feisty to be so careless when inside Russelpunk's office, okay?” she said a moment later, and smiled.

-o0o-

Inside the third floor boy's restroom that night beside the row of cubicles Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat around on the cold tile floors watching the Marauder's Map in order to see what Russelpunk was up to tonight. They've been doing this for more than an hour past nine against the curfew rules, hoping to see the DADA teacher do something out of the ordinary again. Hermione wasn't at all optimistic, though, because if she were in Russelpunk's shoes, she'd lie low after that botched attempt to kidnap Harry. But still, they knew Russelpunk most likely didn't have a clue that he was being suspected as an accessory - that is, unless Dumbledore had confronted him already. To fight the boredom of staking out, Hermione entertained herself by shooting affectionate glances at Harry, whose face was only a few inches away from hers. He didn't know Hermione wasn't giving attention to all the dots that crawled endlessly on the Marauder's Map.

Hermione strongly admired Harry's toughness. Harry had been subjected to another attempt that would have led to his death in the hands of Voldemort. Any kid like his age (or even older) who had gone through the same thing would most probably hide under the sheets of his bed for the rest of his life, but not Harry. There was a strong sense of determination drawn on his face and a very strong proactive attitude to help solve this case. It was this that inspired Hermione to press on, and at the same she became even more attracted to Harry.

Harry, meanwhile, was very glad their cold war with Ron was over. Impressively, they did well of forgetting very quickly about their growing hatred towards each other as their war dragged on. It was now as if they had not fought at all. This was the one bright spot they had in weeks where everything seemed to go from bad to worse - it was one less problem to worry about.

“This is silly,” whined Ron, which made Hermione snap off from her trance. “It's absolutely pointless to be under the cloak while we're inside this lavatory - I mean, nobody can see us.” When he started to remove the cloak, Hermione grappled it with her hands.

“Ron, don't!” she hissed towards Ron's floating head. “What if one of them wizards came in to took a look inside? We'll all be in big trouble!”

Harry murmured in agreement, nodding his head at Ron. Ron, knowing what Hermione said was true, couldn't do anything about it now except roll his eyes and replace the cloak begrudgingly above his head.

“You know, I wish we hadn't asked Dumbledore to investigate Russelpunk just yet,” Harry mused. “We might just be staring at the map all night when Russelpunk had gotten too cautious…”

“Pardon me,” Hermione replied, looking annoyed, “but I don't agree with that at all. I'm sure Dumbledore knows how to deal with cases like these…”

“He's moving again!” announced Ron. Harry and Hermione dropped their growing argument and eagerly watched the dot labeled as `Russelpunk' move out of the DADA classroom. Several more dots were concentrated in a large room next to the DADA classroom, which Hermione knew was the meeting room for the security wizards where they were currently holding their nightly debriefing. A few other dots labeled with surnames of people Harry thought he never knew but surmised as belonging to patrolling security wizards and some prefects moving about the corridors (Seymour and Burton were among them).

“C'mon, c'mon, do something suspicious!” muttered Harry under his breath.

Russelpunk slowly walked out his classroom and stopped momentarily beside the door of the meeting room, and then moved again to the general direction of Seymour's office. This was what Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting for practically the whole night. They had a good feeling the professor was now up to no good again.

“I'm in no doubt he's giving it another try with Seymour's office now,” Hermione grinned. “Ready to go, Ron? You don't have to do this, really.”

“But I insist!” Ron said hotly.

“Got the other ear with you, Ron?” Harry asked.

Ron held out his hand from under the cloak and made a thumbs-up sign. “I'll be nearby Seymour's door…bye!”

“Be careful,” reminded Hermione. “Don't do anything stupid.”

Harry and Hermione watched Ron walk briskly towards Seymour's office, which was only a few corridors away. In fact, he was moving a little bit too fast.

“Take it easy out there - you might trip,” Hermione snarled quietly at the Extended Ear, and then Ron's dot went significantly slower. “Over eager, he is,” she commented.

Soon, Ron had reached the corridor outside the office ahead of Russelpunk and stopped.

“That's it, Ron,” said Harry. “That's a good spot. I'll warn you if I see somebody else coming your way. Russelpunk's just around the corner and you will see him soon.”

But Russelpunk didn't turn on the corner and went straight ahead to another section of the wing instead.

“Now, where's he going?” Hermione asked Harry.

Clueless like she was, Harry just shrugged and said, “Do you think we'll send Ron over where he's going, too?”

Hermione nodded instantly.

“Okay, Ron, get to where you saw Russelpunk last and turn right,” Harry instructed. “I'll guide you for the next turn.”

Ron's dot moved at once and rounded the right corner. Staring back at Russelpunk's dot, it had stopped beside another room Harry knew as McGonagall's office, which Horace Whipple had made his own. Ron had obviously seen Russelpunk get in the room because his dot moved carefully along the walls towards it.

“Now this is interesting,” muttered Hermione. “I believe Russelpunk may be trying to break in to offices other than Seymour's all the time, isn't he?”

Harry nodded. He knew that was possible because he had only seen him try to get in Seymour's office that it didn't occur to him it was the only one he was after. What was more interesting was it was Whipple's office right now he was breaking into. What was even more peculiar was that Russelpunk didn't stay long by the door and entered straight in. Harry concentrated too much on Russelpunk's dot that he didn't see Whipple's in the center of the room where McGonagall's desk was located. Worse, Ron had gotten in the ante room, and Harry fumbled with the Extended Ear.

“Ron, get out of there! Whipple's inside!” Good thing Ron didn't resist, and his dot quickly went out the door and stayed out the corridor. Harry blew out a breath; he still wasn't sure if Whipple could see under the cloak yet and he didn't want to find out the hard way.

“Russelpunk's getting in Whipple's office…” Hermione said, scowling. “I'm now sure they're working with each other - and Whipple's a true Death Eater.”

“I'm not surprised,” Harry replied, still watching the map attentively.

Russelpunk stopped in front of Whipple's dot for few seconds, and walked slowly around him. Harry and Hermione both deduced they were talking.

“Russelpunk's probably taking instructions from Whipple right now!” grunted Harry, his eyes narrowing. “Why, that…that bloody traitor…”

“Shhhhh!!!” Hermione said, glaring at Harry. “Keep it down…”

After a few more minutes, Russelpunk had finally started to move out of Whipple's office. Harry notified Ron of his movement and instructed him again to follow Russelpunk. Soon, the professor had reached Seymour's office and had managed to get in.

“He's in!” Hermione said, surprised. “Looks like he didn't have a hard time unlocking the door this time around. I think Whipple told him how to get in Seymour's office - but why?”

“Let's talk about that later,” he said, and then told Ron, “Ron, if you think it's safe, try to see what he's doing inside Seymour's office…”

Ron obeyed, and had gotten in the office. However, Russelpunk looked as if he was finished doing what he wanted to do because he was already on his way out. Russelpunk and Ron' dot was about to converge dangerously.

“Ron, watch out - He's getting out!” Harry exclaimed. Ron had stopped and shunted to the side, and Russelpunk also went stationary. Sweat fell down on Harry's face as he shockingly stared at the map - Russelpunk might have caught Ron!

Harry stood up and tried for the door, and Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “What do you think you're doing???” she hissed.

“Russelpunk might be killing him right now,” Harry panted.

Hermione looked back at map and the two dots stayed where they are and said, “Okay, I'm not afraid of Russelpunk - let's get him!”

Harry and Hermione then walked out of the rest room quickly. They both agreed without talking that they had nothing to lose if they confronted the teacher together. He was a Death Eater posing as a DADA teacher, and they would duel with him if they had to!

It was fortunate they had not encountered any patrolling wizard out the corridors and reached Seymour's office door in a couple of minutes. Harry and Hermione stopped beside the door, and took out their wands.

“Ready for this?” Harry asked, and Hermione nodded at him determinedly.

The moved in quickly. Expecting to blaze away with their wands against Russelpunk, Harry and Hermione froze when they found the office empty. “What the…”

Ron had emerged from under the cloak down on the floor, just inches away from the door. “Harry - Hermione…” he said, surprised at seeing them both.

“Ron, you okay?” Harry said, leaping towards and bending down beside him. “What happened - where's Russelpunk?”

“I tripped and fell down to avoid Russelpunk bumping onto me,” said Ron, looking embarrassed.

“Did he see you?” Harry asked.

“Don't worry, he didn't,” assured Ron, standing up and rolling the cloak with his arms. “He almost did, though. Stopped and looked around for a long time - but then he hurried out. Sorry, it was too late to see what he was up to inside this office - Hey! what're you two doing here…we're all going to get caught!”

Harry ignored Ron, and looked around the office for other interesting clues. Seymour's office looked different from what he'd seen from the transom above. It was dark inside - the heavily varnished wooden walls drowned out the light of the few candles that were still lit. It was hard to walk around, too. There were many carton boxes tucked against the walls, but the thing that always stood out was the chest just behind the desk. Harry didn't understand why he felt so strongly drawn by the chest to see what was inside, and perhaps it was the very thing that made it significant. Harry noticed that its latch was broken and Russelpunk didn't bother to fix it back.

He opened it. But, alas! He found it empty - although it was startling to have a strong breeze gushing out from inside the chest. It blew his hair back, and he heard the hair-raising cries of a hundred ghosts.

“N-now, that's scary!” Hermione shuddered a couple of yards behind Harry.

“Looks like Russelpunk took everything,” Harry said, shivering, too. “I thought he was going to rig whatever was inside this trunk like what he did back at the Quidditch stadium.”

“I think we'll need to take a look at his office, right?” added Ron. “If he took out what was inside the chest, he'll most likely keep it there. I do remember him tucking something inside his robes when he dashed out.”

Harry nodded and paused for a moment to blow out some air, feeling letdown from finding nothing tonight. They had spent too much time in the office more than what was necessary just to take Ron out. Closing the chest he said, “What do you reckon was inside this chest, Hermione?”

She didn't answer.

“Ron?”

“H-Harry,” Ron said from behind him nervously. “Better take a look at this…”

Harry turned around and almost lost his balance. Seymour and Burton was at the doorway, both staring forebodingly at him, Ron, and Hermione.

-o0o-

The sound of broken glass inside Lucius' den literally rang throughout the entire Malfoy Manor where he had a heated meeting with Campion, Lucius' right hand man. He was extremely furious of the lost chance to wrap up their task by capturing Harry Potter today.

“WHAT??? They had him in their grasp and still they failed to bring him in?” roared Lucius. “And, bloody hell! They couldn't fend off two students, too? Incompetent fools!!!”

“Actually, sir,” Campion said slowly, “They almost defeated Potter's friends but…”

“BUT WHAT??? It was only Weasel and the Mudblood!”

“But they said Dumbledore had entered the fray…and you know how daunting he is when his eyes get fiery blue…”

Lucius slammed his cane on his office table too hard it split into two, though deep inside he understood that nobody knew how to deal with Dumbledore head on - even his own master, Lord Voldemort, is said to be scared of him, too.

“That bloody old meddlesome fossil!” he cursed. “What do we do now? What do we do now? Surely Harry Potter will be now more difficult to reach - he knows we're out to get him…”

Campion remained silent. Lucius walked back and forth around his den, desperately looking for a new scheme in his head to accomplish what they had prepared for so long. Those inept Death Eaters who he ordered to do the job in the Forbidden Forest essentially botched the whole operation. He dreaded foremost what the Dark Lord would do to him once he knew he could not deliver Harry Potter to him at all despite his repeated assurances that it was easy.

“What happened to the three Death Eaters?” he asked shortly. “Have there identities been compromised?”

“Not at all, sir,” Campion replied. “They've gone back to Hogwarts under Whipple. In my opinion, pulling them out will be highly unadvisable.”

Lucius nodded. “You're right, Campion, and it's entirely not their fault if Dumbledore foiled their assignment,” he conceded, finally calming down a bit. “The only danger to this operation is when Fudge would realize there are indeed Death Eaters in his ranks. Luckily he's still clueless, I hear. Everyone must ensure their identities remain hidden at all times. Is that understood?”

“By your command, sir.”

Lucius nodded and breathed deeply and tried to relax in order to think much better as he stared out of his window, watching the snow fall. Minutes have past and neither Lucius and Campion said anything.

Then bit by bit the ideas came in, until they flooded Lucius brilliant - but evil - imagination. He organized all his thoughts and weighed all the pros and cons of every though he considered. He reached a decision at last.

He turned back to Campion, who looked woefully worried as he sat on the guest chair. “Don't fret - I'll fully disregard what happened - I know what we'll do now,” he said, grinning mischievously. “Our people are still in place, so there's still a chance.”

Campion sat up straighter on his chair, encouraged by Lucius' leadership skills. His immediate boss had his flaws and not all of his plans worked to the “T”. But he knew Lucius very well as a man who could quickly think of excellent ways to correct even the most insurmountable of problems. Lucius, at the moment, was at his element.

“I believe our preparations won't be for naught if we do this right,” Lucius declared. “Fudge will be easy to influence, as always. He'll agree to a status quo, plus a special request of mine I'm sure he can't refuse. But we must move quickly and decisively, otherwise we'll never get Potter anymore. Listen to me carefully with my new plan, and after that go and assemble the team - I reckon we need the help of our lovely pets for this one…”

After listening closely to Lucius' detailed instructions, Campion could feel it in his bones that this time they will surely succeed.

-o0o-

Chapter 15 coming soon. I hope this chapter was not a let down especially after last chapter's cliffy, because a few more things still need to happen. Trust me (wink).

New messages from the author will be posted on top of this chapter, so you may want to check it out to know when to expect the next chapter would be coming out. Again, I thank you for reading this story.

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16. Dumbledore's Departure

Author’s note: Thanks, Potter’s Princess for your review! I appreciate it! Here’s the next part of the story. Enjoy! (I hope)

Warning: Parts of this chapter may contain graphic content.

Chapter 15

Dumbledore’s Departure

The feeling inside Seymour’s office was very edgy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all froze and stared at Seymour and Burton, their minds uncharacteristically idle out of shock. The two wizards had entered deeper in the room and closed the door behind them, making Harry, Ron, and Hermione move closer to each other for protection, though not one of them had held their wands out.

After a few more tense moments of staring around, Seymour finally broke the silence.

“Would anyone of you care to explain why you three’re inside my office this late at night?” he asked, in surprisingly calm manner. Seymour didn’t growl, but he wasn’t smiling either.

Nobody in the trio knew how to answer and they chose to keep quiet.

Seymour sighed. “You’re lucky Whipple wasn’t the one who caught you all three in here together, otherwise you’d be expelled outright.”

Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

“What do you mean, Judas?” Burton asked, looking confused beside him. “Aren’t we going to turn them in for illegal entry?”

Seymour shot a slow and impatient gaze towards his partner and said, “Of course we’re not going to turn them in, dung brain – what do you think’s gonna happen if Whipple has Potter all to himself, huh?”

Burton’s face went bright with delayed comprehension. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Boss…”

“Peter here is a little slow up here,” Seymour explained to Harry, snickering and tapping a finger on his own forehead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, didn’t change their looks on their expressionless faces, though.

Sensing that the mood hadn’t changed with the kids yet, Seymour spoke again. “Please, don’t be afraid of us – we’re part of Whipple’s little army but I assure you, we’re no Death Eaters like him and the others…”

“Then how do you know we’re even thinking of you like that?” Hermione tested.

“It’s because we’ve been in on the case for months and we’ve been working very hard to confirm who’re the Death Eaters within the group and who’s clean…we’ve made good progress, you know…”

“You mean you’re with Olga and Ramius?” Ron asked eagerly, but Hermione punched an elbow on his arm.

“Ron! Shut up! Don’t say anything they don’t know!!!” she scolded him.

Seymour nodded on Ron’s question anyway. “If you mean Olga Gargarin and her partner Palkov, yes.”

“Then if you really know them,” Harry spoke this time, but watched Seymour and Burton firmly, “where are they now?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t answer that,” Seymour heaved a sigh. “Practically the whole Ministry is looking for them, and we had no contact with them ever since they went into hiding. We’ve been very good friends and she often repeated there was a possible plot to infiltrate Death Eaters in Hogwarts for a specific purpose. When she disappeared, I took it upon myself to continue her work by volunteering for Whipple’s team. I feel lucky I got picked, but the problem is, even if we knew who the Death Eaters were already we don’t know who to tell in the Ministry. We’re not sure if our chief is even clean or not…”

There was a long pause while Harry considered Seymour’s statement. Hermione also was deep in thought like him, apparently deliberating the same. Burton walked behind the desk, passing by Hermione who was nearest to his path.

“Looks like your chest had been tampered with, Boss,” Burton said, gawking at the broken lock. He then turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Did any of you three do this?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Somebody else did.”

“May I know who it was, Mr. Potter?” inquired Seymour politely. Harry, however, didn’t feel like answering because he was not yet convinced of Seymour’s story.

“Mr. Potter, please trust me, we’re on your side and we want to protect you from Whipple – he’s one of the Death Eaters, I can testify to that.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Seymour, but I’m not entirely inclined to believe you that easily,” Harry said determinedly. “So, what’re you waiting for? You have me! You could bring me to Voldemort right now – I’m not afraid of him!”

Seymour just looked at Harry sadly.

“Harry,” Hermione said, shaking his arm. “Harry, listen to me…”

“What?!?” Harry asked her, still feeling wound up.

“Harry, I believe Mr. Seymour…” she told him. Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione as if she was out of her mind.

“I believe what Mr. Seymour said is true,” Hermione gently repeated.

“Why?” Harry asked again.

Hermione, however, didn’t answer Harry directly and faced Seymour again. “Even if I believe your story, sir, there’s just one more thing I need to ask you for proof,” she said to him. “If you’ll take on the challenge, then there’s nothing else I need more for you to prove yourself.

“Of course, Ms. Granger,” Seymour said courteously. “Anything for Mr. Potter to be convinced I’m really not a Death Eater like he strongly suspects…”

“I need to see both of your arms for the Dark Mark, sir,” Hermione requested. Harry and Ron immediately snapped their sights on both Seymour’s sleeved forearms.

Smiling, Seymour rolled up his sleeves, revealing both his shiny and hairless forearms. Even though Harry didn’t see any trace of the Dark Mark at all on his skin, he was still unwilling to believe him.

“Now, do you believe me?” Seymour asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione again slowly, smiling down on them.

Harry didn’t answer at once, but Hermione did. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Seymour,” Hermione assured him.

“Hermione,” Harry said. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”

“Yes. On the contrary, I know,” Hermione replied, with finality on her voice. “If you trust me, I ask you to believe him, too. I’ve worked with Mr. Seymour long enough to know what he’s like. We’ve definitely got to help him with his work, or else I’m afraid we might not be able to fend off all the attempts on you if we rely on ourselves.”

Harry scowled slightly, and then turned to Ron. Ron however, just shrugged and said unhelpfully “Whatever you decide on, Harry, I’m right behind you.”

“I know what I’m talking about, Harry,” Hermione reiterated.

Harry disliked being waited upon to make any sort of instant decision. He was still not fully convinced of Seymour’s story, but Hermione looked like she was real sure of herself. Her final test against Seymour was a good stroke – if he indeed was a Death Eater, he would have chosen to attack them at once rather than to calmly roll up his sleeves. What more would he want for Seymour to ultimately prove he wasn’t, he thought.

He gazed back at Hermione again, who patiently awaited his reply. The next thing he thought about was what if he refused to accept Hermione’s opinion on Seymour? He didn’t find it hard to imagine at once. He knew Hermione would be badly hurt because it would look as if he didn’t fully trust her, not after all the sacrifices she had made in order to protect him from all adversity – not only for this year, but for the entire part of his life since she became his best friend. And also remembering Dumbledore’s advice about how crucial it was for them to keep themselves united against Voldemort, he knew he didn’t have a choice for now but to trust her judgment this time, and hope she was right.

With much effort and lingering hesitation, Harry finally nodded. He had done it.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Seymour said, with a sigh of relief. “Ms. Granger here is an excellent prefect. She’s very – obedient – and she doesn’t complain much because she’s very enthusiastic with her assignments. Have you done all your chores for today, Ms. Granger?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said, smiling. “Anything else you’d like to assign me, sir?”

“Ah, I think you had too much work for today,” Seymour chuckled. “Better leave everything for tomorrow…”

“The chest’s empty, Judas,” Burton said, apparently waiting for a long time to say so.

“What?” he said. “Are you sure, Burton?”

“Why, what’s supposed to be in there?” Ron asked.

“Evidence we’ve worked hard to gather to incriminate some Death Eaters in Hogwarts,” he replied, shaking his head with extreme disappointment. He punched the top of his desk, making him squeal in pain.

“So who’re the Death Eaters you already know, Mr. Seymour?” Hermione said interestedly. “We’re still clueless up to now…”

“Whipple, Monroe, Warren, Guest, and Russelpunk,” Burton replied for Seymour. “That’s just about less than tenth of us here – there may be more, uh, I guess…”

“I knew it,” Ron said. “He broke in here not long ago, that Russelpunk. I’m sure he had taken everything along with him…”

“Is that so?” Seymour said, looking surprised. “Russelpunk, huh? Are you sure about that?”

Hermione and Ron both nodded; Harry just stared around.

“He probably knows we’re on to him,” Seymour said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been observing him for many days already – but we’ve not been suspecting him as the very man who always tried to break in our office…”

“We saw him get in Whipple’s office first before he broke in here,” Hermione told Seymour. “Whipple was in there, too, and we think they were talking and he sent the professor here, too.”

“Ah, thank you, Ms. Granger,” Seymour acknowledged, and he broke into a mischievous smile. Harry saw it.

“What are you grinning about, Mr. Seymour?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Oh, my apologies, Mr. Potter,” he laughed. “It’s just about the first proof we have of Russelpunk’s association with Whipple. We couldn’t find anything to link them together…”

“How does that link them together?” Burton asked.

Seymour shot him another look. “When we have time, dolt, I’ll explain it to you one by one, get it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Boss…”

“Sorry about that, Mr. Potter,” Seymour said shamefacedly. “One other thing Burton needs is a knock on the head, but he manages to get away with it every time. Now, I have to ask you to return to your dormitory, or someone might get in here and you’ll be in deep trouble. Again I want to thank you for believing me, though I can still feel you aren’t still fully convinced about me – I can understand that. The Death Eaters have invaded the Ministry too much that we’re suffering too much from being stereotyped…”

“We’re going out now, Mr. Seymour,” Hermione said she and curtly bowed her head at him. “See you at our briefing tomorrow.” She then grabbed Harry’s arm painfully and pressed him out.

“Ow!” Harry exclaimed. “Hey, take it easy, will you?”

“You go out first – you two – and I’ll follow,” she told Harry and Ron.

“Why can’t we go together?”

“The two-man rule!” she reminded him impatiently. “Now go before I kick you out myself!”

“Hermione, what’s wrong with you?” Harry asked, annoyed with her statement. “You’ve suddenly become too hot-headed lately it’s not like you…”

She did so like she had threatened, though not painfully. Harry looked back at her, scowling. Ron, meanwhile held out his hands to keep Hermione away from himself as he inched back towards the door.

“Miss Granger, that’s totally uncalled for,” Seymour said sternly at her as she followed Harry and Ron out. “Remember the prefects’ creed, the ‘Vox-Domini’.

“Sorry, sir,” she apologized. “Got carried away…”

As soon as they were back out the corridor, Harry glared back at Hermione, who was slowly walking along with him from behind. Ron looked very apprehensive as if he was afraid they were getting to some kind of a fight that he didn’t know of during the time he distanced himself from Harry and Hermione. He took out the cloak again and wrapped himself with it, glad that if Hermione wanted to kick someone else she won’t be able to see him.

“Tell your problem, Hermione!” growled Harry.

Hermione didn’t seem to want to answer, because she looked stone faced as she kept walking, looking at him. She must have been peeved with him about something, Harry thought. He was completely clueless, and he wanted very much to know what it was.

“Answer me!” he demanded, but then Hermione suddenly looked extremely haggard. She was fighting for her balance – she didn’t walk in a straight line and her eyes didn’t stay into one spot.

“Hermione,” Harry called, his growing anger quickly replaced with alarm and concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She fell down on the floor, succumbing into unconscious. Harry anxiously leaped back, went down on his knees beside her, and lifted her up slightly to rest on his thigh like he did so every time he caught her in a fainting spell.

“Harry, what’s happening to her?” Ron said, panic-stricken (he was still under the cloak).

“Another attack – you know, caused by the accident back at DADA last month?” Harry replied. “I guess she felt it coming – she had a very bad temper before this…”

“You mean she still has it?” Ron exclaimed. “But that was a long time ago!”

“Yeah, I know! But she’s been denying all along that she still has – she’ll come to in a sec, I expect…”

However, more than a minute had passed and Hermione was still out cold. “I don’t understand – she’s supposed to wake up almost immediately,” he said, getting more worried.

Seymour had walked out of his door, and upon seeing Harry holding Hermione on the floor, he ran over to them and exclaimed “What happened to Ms. Granger?”

“She fainted, sir,” Harry replied vaguely.

“Then I suggest you bring her to the hospital wing now,” Seymour said urgently. “Bring your friend with you…”

“Who?” Harry said, looking up at Seymour. “Excuse me, sir, but no one’s here except you, me, and Hermione…”

“No time to argue, Mr. Potter,” he grunted impatiently. “To me your friend looks hazy standing beside you under that cloak. It’s best if you get moving now to have her treated. Now, go!”

Harry gulped. Seymour could see under the invisibility cloak after all, though it was absolutely not the right time for him to worry about. The wizard was right - he had to bring her to the hospital wing, or else she may be getting deeper into something worse. Harry lifted Hermione up from the floor and dashed, ignoring the pain that was growing on his arms while heaving Hermione’s full weight.

-o0o-

“Oh, no!” Hermione groaned when she woke up next at the hospital wing. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yes, I’ll you what happened.” Madam Pomfrey said to her firmly while she was finishing off a barrage of diagnostic tests. “You had another attack, and worse, Harry here tells me you’ve been keeping it a secret from me for days! I’ve already scolded him for it. How could ever do such a thing, Hermione?”

Hermione tightened her lips. “I’m very sorry, Madam,” she replied shamefacedly. “Honestly, I don’t know why…”

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. “I consider you lucky it happened to you again tonight – otherwise I’d never know you’re still suffering from it. More of this and you’ll most likely lose your entire memory then…”

Hermione dropped her jaw.

“Yes! Your whole memory…from your own birth!” Madam Pomfrey restated. “You haven’t been taking your medication like I told you! You better restart, and don’t expect it to take effect at once. It takes quite a while for your body to reaccept the potion.”

Hermione gazed at Harry, who was watching over her from the other side of the bed.

Harry merely shrugged. “I’m not going to blame you any further…but I’m glad you’re still mind and body’s still in one piece. You gave me and Ron quite a scare!”

“Sorry, Harry,” she said sheepishly. “I should have listened to you then…”

“I have to ask you to stay overnight, Hermione,” Madam Pomfrey told her, “in order to ensure you take your medication properly – not that I’ve lost trust in you I don’t…”

Hermione nodded and sighed deeply. Another boring night was in store ahead of her.

“I guess we can’t see you until tomorrow, then,” Harry groaned, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently. He felt another tug in his heart when he saw her smile up at him affectionately. It was this that he desired to give her his first kiss more than ever, but he could not do it without fighting fiercely with himself.

Hermione may have understood what was going on inside Harry’s mind at the moment by the way she looked in his eyes.

“Harry,” she said softly, “I wish you could stay here with me tonight, but I know you’re not safe here – I’ll be all right with Madam Pomfrey. Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing right now, it – it’s okay.”

Harry stared at her. He wasn’t at all sure what she meant, but the message to him was crystal clear, or it sounded like it. Though he feared he had misinterpreted Hermione’s message, the next thing he knew he was kissing her on her cheek (his hesitation made him go for that instead of her lips). A strong crash startled Harry and drew him away from Hermione at once. Ron had tripped on the medicine tray and he fell down on the floor.

“Ron – what happened to you?” Harry said, looking down at him.

“I-I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “but I kind of went blind for a second…”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Harry asked him suspiciously. Perhaps Ron still was against him and Hermione being more than just best friends, he thought.

“Yeah – I swear!” replied, standing up. “Weird!”

Harry, however, didn’t buy it readily.

“Okay, okay,” said Madam Pomfrey who was back from her office, “that’s enough talking! It’s very late at night! Shoo!”

Harry and Ron said goodnight to a now miserable looking Hermione and walked back to the Gryffindor tower together, under the cloak. They both didn’t go straight to bed when they reached the Gryffindor tower and decided to sit down beside the fireplace in silence indefinitely.

“Harry,” called Ron sleepily beside him on the couch after an hour of no talking.

“Yeah?”

“Feel like talking?”

“Okay…”

“What do you feel about what happened tonight in Seymour’s office?”

Harry didn’t answer at once and recalled their most recent experience deeply after being reminded about it. Because of what happened to Hermione after that, he somehow completely forgotten to deliberate on Seymour.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think, Ron,” Harry sighed and rubbing his face. “There’s too much going on and everything’s gotten crazy lately I think I’m gonna puke!”

“I know how you feel,” Ron said, sinking deeper on his comfy chair. “I’ve missed the finer points of what happened to you and Hermione before that incident at the Forbidden Forest – but I know it’s my fault…I don’t blame you. But if you can fill me in again…”

“But we already told you everything, Ron,” Harry exhaled tiredly. “About the only thing that’s significant is Russelpunk’s suspicious behavior. Our theories hadn’t changed at all. If we take Seymour’s word, then what he said back in his office tonight confirms all our suspicions. Russelpunk is the guy to watch out for…Whipple, too.”

“Okay…” Ron trailed off. “Then what do we do next?”

“Oh, I don’t know…staying safe as much as possible in Hogwarts seems the best thing to do at the moment...” Harry said sincerely. “But the very thing they’re here for really happens, then we can’t do anything else but to accept it…

“Harry, are you saying that you’re giving up doing something about the plot to take you away?” Ron said incredulously.

“If it sounds like it, then maybe that’s true,” Harry sighed. “Look what might have happened back in Seymour’s office tonight – if he turned out to be a bad guy, then maybe I’d be in Xanthius right now and Hermione and you are probably both dead. It would be my fault/ I’ve been thinking about it - if we keep on chasing everyone we suspect…”

“Then they’ll most likely succeed whatever they were here for,” Ron finished. “Sorry, but I don’t agree with you at all, Harry. We’re almost on top of Russelpunk – and Seymour is hot on his tail. If we let Russelpunk loose, he’ll get you soon enough.”

Harry fell silent. He’d never been this demoralized since his first year when he decided not to care about the weird things that were happening in Hogwarts then – and it led him to confront Voldemort for the first time anyway. Ron’s request to Harry ran contrary to Dumbledore’s appeal to them not to expose their own selves unnecessarily to danger, but that thought strangely evaded them all the time.

“Harry…” Ron called him again. “I think…”

“Yeah, I think I’m just too tired I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he yawned.

“Other than that, I think you’re getting too distressed about Hermione, too, it’s not healthy,” Ron said. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to give up – she’d want you to press on…because I know she loves you…”

Harry stared at Ron. “How would you know?”

Ron shrugged. “Can’t you see by the look on her eyes each time she looks at you? It’s unmistakable!”

“Ron, if you’re saying that just to make up with me…”

“No, no…” Ron countered gently. “I’m not doing that. That’s not true at all. It’s just that I’ve seen it so many times and I had begun to accept it, and I can’t deny that she really does feel special about you. Didn’t you know she was looking at you very lovingly back there in the boy’s lavatory?”

“I didn’t see her…just when did you suddenly become an expert on reading people’s faces, Ron?”

“Not only that,” Ron continued, ignoring Harry’s question, “when we hated each other I kept observing you going together alone – it’s the time I’ve seen her that she’s the most happiest. It’s something that I can’t stop, and I’ve realized she’s better off with you than Krum. Better you than him – but don’t get it the wrong way…We could still be a trio if you both went together, right? I was so stupid I didn’t think of that before.”

“Oh, I don’t know about hooking up with her…” Harry sighed. “I kind of forgotten about it for a while and I don’t know how she’ll take it – I mean, going steady with her, or making her my uh, my…uhm…”

“Go on, say it…” Ron persuaded, bobbing his head slowly along with Harry.

Harry grinned awkwardly. “Ehem…my – girlfriend…”

“There you go!” Ron said cheerfully. “Now that wasn’t hard, was it?”

Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Like I was saying…It’s a totally different thing – it’d be weird after being best friends with her for years. I’ve always though about that ever since - it’s scary…”

“Well, whatever feelings you have with her, don’t make me stop you - because I won’t,” Ron said sincerely. “Not everybody – even they discourage you…”

Harry fell silent for a while, letting what Ron said to him to sink in.

“Okay - I’ll think about it, Ron, but thanks,” Harry smiled. He was already feeling uncomfortable talking about this with Ron who until recently was loathe of even thinking about the very thing that made him break up with him and Hermione. Attempting to change the subject, he said, “Hey, did I already thank you for saving me back there at the Forbidden Forest?”

“Yeah,” Ron laughed. “About a couple hundred times…”

“Oh! Okay, I got to go to sleep,” Harry said, standing up and stretching. “See you in the morning, Ron.”

“Sure,” Ron replied, and he watched him walk off to the spiral staircase.

“Harry?”

Harry stopped and faced Ron. “Yeah?”

“Please don’t think of giving up doing something to protect yourself – remember Hermione and I are right behind you always to back you up, okay?”

Harry smiled at him. He knew what Ron was trying to say again, like he told him so many times already. He and Hermione were ready to die for him if necessary to protect him, and they had proven it again back at the Forbidden Forest today. It would be very, very unfair if the feeling was not mutual.

-o0o-

The Mudblood is dead! The Mudblood is dead!

The same words played over and over in Harry’s dream all night amid a hail of mirthless laughter, and he sprung awake the next morning. Harry was wet all over with cold sweat, and he panted as he tried to regain his breathing. The strange dream had come back again, and he didn’t understand why it had and why it bothered him so. After all, it turned out to be Russelpunk in the end, and Harry didn’t care what happened to him now at all.

After realizing it was all a bad dream again, Harry slid off his bed and sat at the edge, taking off his damp shirt. He then shivered. The window had opened wide by itself overnight, bringing in chilly air from outside. He leaped above his bed to closed it in one bound, wrapped himself with his comforter, and sat back down on his bed, yawning wide, to recollect his thoughts.

He tried to recall vaguely about his last dream – as much as he remembered, the dream he had was about the same that he had back at the Burrow. He didn’t really know what it really meant since dreams often showed the obvious but mostly turn out differently in the end, and why it had come back to him again. But Harry knew a part of him wished Russelpunk would really be snuffed out soon, like his dream had suggested, even if it was really awful to think about such thoughts. He hated himself for it. But it was Russelpunk who caused the Snitch to run away to lure him into the hands of the Death Eaters, right? He had seen it with his own two eyes. How dare he try to be friendly with him and Hermione if all that he was after was to help deliver him as a present to Voldemort? The very thing that was difficult still was that he just didn’t have anything with him to prove Russelpunk was the one behind it.

It was past ten and Harry missed breakfast this Saturday morning. Ron did, too, because he was still snoring at his bed. Yesterday’s events drained out all their energy. Thank goodness it was Saturday!

Harry went down to the Common Room after preparing himself, and watched a few of his classmates reading something intently on the bulletin board. He went over behind Ginny, who noticed him.

“Guess what’s happening this Tuesday, Harry,” she said, looking excited.

“Why? What’s happening this Tuesday?”

“Fudge declared a special day to visit to Hogsmeade!” she whooped. “That means no classes for a whole day of shopping!”

“Huh? Why?” Harry asked. The next regular visit to Hogsmeade was supposed to be in April. “What’s the reason?”

“I don’t know – and I don’t care,” Seamus answered cheerfully, emerging from the crowd of students reading the notice. “But it’s great news…”

“What’s different this time is that everyone at Hogwarts – even teachers – is required to attend,” Neville added. He looked happy, too. “Even ickle firsties – lucky little monsters…”

“I think I know the reason behind it,” Ginny interrupted. “I heard from Fred and George that Fudge wanted to show it was safe for everyone to do anything out of the ordinary – to show normalcy. Of course, a Hogsmeade visit isn’t normal this time of year especially with students under third year coming along, but he’s inviting the Daily Prophet to cover the event.”

Harry thought Fudge was out of his mind and he’s thinking of doing everything just to prove that the wizard world had nothing to be worried about Voldemort, thus the Daily Prophet reporting on the occasion. But Harry admitted this was too good to pass up, a bright spot and a good break in Fudge’s on-going “State of Emergency”. Who could say no to Hogsmeade at all? He wondered what Dumbledore thought of Fudge’s decision, but Harry hoped he concurred with it, not that he was really starting to approve of Fudge’s ideas already.

Hermione had come back from the hospital wing and she looked very healthy this morning. She was sitting by the fireplace reading the book Mr. Weasley had given her when they got back from vacation. Harry felt a leap in his heart seeing her all over again, especially looking very okay.

Harry sat down beside her. “Hey, you’re back! How’re you feeling?”

“Rejuvenated,” she smiled, putting down her book on her lap.

“That’s great!”

“You?”

Harry shrugged. “Still worried about everything, unfortunately. Sorry, I didn’t mean to break your good mood…”

“It’s perfectly okay, Harry,” Hermione said, smiling. “I can’t deny I keep worrying about what will happen to you or to us today, tomorrow…something almost disastrous happened to us yesterday and I don’t believe the Death Eaters have given up yet. It was a foiled attempt on you yesterday, so they will try again I’m sure. The question is when…”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Harry exhaled. “Not only that, I’m also…you know…very worried about… you. I hope you’re getting better from now on.”

Hermione broke into another smile and gazed at him appreciatively. “Thanks, Harry,” she said, “Madam Pomfrey really thinks if I just keep taking my medication I’ll not have any more problems in a month. But, you know, I feel kind of guilty about it really. Here you are in danger of being taken away by murderous Death Eaters and I keep on landing on the floor…I know I shouldn’t be a burden to you in the first place.”

“But you’re my best friend, Hermione,” Harry argued friendly. “I don’t really mind about that at all. It’s not your fault we’re having real problems at the same time, right? I have to help you whether you like it or not.” He grinned.

“Yeah…but…but…” Hermione tried to counter, but then she giggled.

“What?” Harry asked, laughing along with her.

Hermione suppressed her laughter. Failing, she said, chuckling “Arrrghh, trying to argue with you against it is useless. What now am I going to do with you, Harry James?”

Harry glanced up the ceiling to think of something, and he said “Why not go with me on a date?”

Hermione stared at Harry. She didn’t believe what she had just heard. “Pardon?” she said, hoping that she’d hear Harry say the very words she thought he just said.

“I’d like to ask you for a date,” Harry repeated gently.

Hermione’s jaw hung slightly with a noticeable hint of a smile and she became breathless. “Are you serious?” she said, still doubtful.

Harry nodded his head and gave her a quick smirk.

“Well, I’ll think about it,” she teased slowly. When Harry fell for it by bowing his head in disappointment, she quickly said, “Done! Yes, Harry, I’ll happily go with you.”

Harry looked back at her and he didn’t know what to say – he was visibly overjoyed with Hermione’s reply.

“Uh, where, then, are we going?” Hermione asked, realizing they were virtually trapped in Hogwarts.

Harry sprang off from the couch, ran towards the billboard, and detached the poster that announced the unscheduled Hogsmeade visit on Tuesday. He ignored the deafening gripes of his classmates and flashed it in front of Hermione. She looked at it uncertainly.

“But Harry, do you think it’s safe?”

“Much safer than being stuck here with no one but – well, you perfectly know who I’m talking about,” Harry explained, grinning. “Everybody from Hogwarts will be in Hogsmeade that day – that includes every one of the teachers. I’m positive we’ll be much safer with lots of people around…”

“I suppose…” Hermione said tentatively.

“Oh, c’mon, please?” Harry pleaded.

After remembering what she read before in “Hogwarts: A History” that Hogsmeade was also a safe haven like Hogwarts, she agreed. “Sure,” she told Harry, smiling.

Ron suddenly sat beside between him and Hermione, putting his arms around them, and said, “Then it’s settled! Hope you have fun alone then, you two!” He then whooped in delight and went straight towards the portrait hole.

“Ronald!” Hermione shrieked after him, pinching her nose amusingly. “Don’t you ever gargle in the morning?”

-o0o-

Harry, along with Hermione, now had something to look forward to and they were both so excited with their upcoming date next Tuesday that they learned how not to worry too much about the plot against Harry, though they were still as vigilant as they were before. Hermione and Ron had mapped out their own schedule, in their own words, to “go on guard duty” for Harry. Harry was the most happiest when it was Hermione’s turn to go with him, but he was nevertheless grateful with Ron’s efforts to look after him, too.

The trio had some sort of an unexpected break from watching out for Russelpunk during for a couple of days when the professor took a weekend off out of Hogwarts. Hermione’s theory was that Russelpunk needed time out to get more instructions from Voldemort, which Harry and Ron readily agreed with. Because of that they worried about the real possibility that there might be another attempt on Harry sooner or later, but as long as he wouldn’t be lured out of bounds of Hogwarts like what happened the last Friday, the Death Eaters probably couldn’t touch him. The Forbidden Forest, Hermione pointed out in theory, didn’t have any sort of protection unlike Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Perhaps this was why Dumbledore seemed to be very relaxed and didn’t worry too much about Harry at all – he may have known something about the magic in Hogwarts that nobody else did.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn’t find Dumbledore anywhere for the whole weekend to tell him about what they learned in Seymour’s office Friday night. Professor Flitwick told them that the Headmaster was very busy securing McGonagall’s release from detention in London, which he had no real hope of achieving because of Fudge’s insistence of enforcing the rules of the State of Emergency and making McGonagall a good “example”.

Harry learned from Arthur Weasley’s letter to Ginny (she shared to him what her dad wrote to her) that Fudge’s State of Emergency was very unpopular for many wizards in the wizarding world, much to their delight. Fudge had originally hoped that by declaring it, the Ministry of Magic could easily stifle any form of information going around (both fact and fiction) about Voldemort’s return by threats of indefinite prison terms and other extra-legal forms of penalties. Since the Ministry was already spread too thin by struggling to cover up the many Death Eater and Hybrid attacks that occurred after the holidays to start with, they could not enforce their own laws and make good on their threats of punishment for anyone caught violating it. Such stories still went around freely among the populace that Fudge had now been branded as a congenital liar, among the derisive names he had already earned from angry wizards. Arthur had noted in his letter that instead of convincing the wizard world that Voldemort wasn’t back, he inadvertently made most believe that he truly was because of his repeated denials contrary to the rumors.

The other hot issue in the wizard world then was about Fudge’s draconian measures in Hogwarts. The exact state inside the school was not clear to all from the outside who wanted to know what was really going on at the inside (every letter out of Hogwarts were censored, and any information about the rules imposed by Whipple was blacked out). Parents relentlessly demanded Fudge to explain his lopsided decision to restrict some basic freedoms among the students (among them the legality of arbitrary expulsion for anyone caught in a group of more than two persons). Apparently the expulsion of the three Ravenclaw students without due process had brought the issue to the forefront. Arthur wrote that the expelled students and their parents had fought back by appearing frequently in numerous interview shows in the Wizard Wireless Network. Fudge had tried to shut the station down more than a few times but a huge constantly-vigilant crowd has camped outside the premises to block any attempts to do so, frustrating him. Anybody from the ministry sent in by Fudge who tried to punch through the crowd was transfigured into a ferret by irate wizards.

“Fudge probably is at a loss what to do now,” Hermione grinned mischievously over breakfast on Sunday, “and that’s a good thing! I think the Hogsmeade day this Tuesday is a knee jerk reaction for Fudge to quiet down the parents – that’s probably the reason why the Daily Prophet is coming along to write a story about it.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione hoped that Fudge was already having sleepless nights – he had brought it upon himself.

Monday had arrived and classes had resumed again. The surprise for the day was the lifting of the two-man rule, much to everybody’s pleasant surprise. Harry surmised Fudge had broken out of pressure. Additionally, Harry hoped he’d be forced to withdraw all the ministry wizards from Hogwarts very soon, though he thought this was a very remote possibility if he still allegedly took “orders” from Lucius.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had double Defence Against the Dark Arts class after lunch that Monday, and if they had their way, they would have skived it off because they couldn’t stand to look at Russelpunk’s traitorous face anymore – even Hermione who was indisposed to miss any class, but it was Dumbledore who had asked them not to do so. Out of great respect for him, they did – only that they chose to sit at the rearmost part of the DADA classroom with their books blocking the view of the blackboard.

The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs had been waiting for the class to begin for over an hour now, but the Professor had yet to show himself up.

“Where do you think Russelpunk is?” asked Neville to no one in particular.

“Maybe he’s sick,” replied Dean Thomas hopefully.

Seamus, bored with waiting, declared “He probably isn’t back from his weekend leave – no point of waiting for him now. Let’s go…” he collected his bag and stood up. Following his lead, the rest of the class decided it was best to spend the rest of their time before the next class outdoors. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, didn’t.

“What’s going on in your mind, Harry?” Ron asked when everybody else had already gotten out of the room (Harry had told him earlier to stay put). “Why’d you stop me from going out?”

“If Russelpunk really isn’t back yet,” Harry replied in an undertone, “then maybe we could sneak in to his office and see if we could find something in there – maybe we could find out what he took out of Seymour’s chest…” Harry pointed to Russelpunk’s office door, which stood adjacent to the classroom beside the teacher’s table.

“If it’s still there,” Ron added. “He might have brought it out along with him during his weekend off.”

Harry grinned at him. “We won’t be able to know at all if we don’t, will we?”

Hermione stared at Harry anxiously. “Oh, I don’t know…have we ever learned our lesson back in Seymour’s? We might get into big trouble again! Worse, Russelpunk might kill us!”

“C’mon, let’s go!” Ron said, unfazed by what Hermione said. He stood up and stepped down the aisle.

“Ron!” Hermione moaned, but Harry pulled her off her chair and towards Russelpunk’s office. Soon, they quietly entered it after no one had answered after knocking on the door.

The office looked different as Harry had remembered it when the fake Mad-eye Moody (a.k.a. Barty Crouch, Jr.) had occupied it last year. Gone where the various anti-dark wizard gizmos. They were replaced by weird looking objects that at first glance anyone could suspect they belonged to wizards interested in and practicing the dark arts. Harry could not help but sense Russelpunk was a truly a dark wizard, an impression shared by Hermione and Ron, and was not just merely interested in the Dark Arts as a science like Moody had said before.

There were dozens of skulls abound, both life-sized and miniature in different forms of art and design (even real ones with paintings or engravings of serpents on them) lining the bookshelves, voodoo dolls, gadgets of hags, dark candles, Oarling teeth, collections of dirty nail clippings, a mock up of the Hand of Glory, and the worse of all, a three-dimensional model of the Dark Mark labeled “Property of Winston Mills, third hand of the Dark Lord, 1975”. Rows of books about the Dark Arts filled the rest of the free space not occupied by other trinkets and figurines.

Ron whistled. “This Russelpunk bloke is…I - I can’t think of anything to describe him.”

“C’mon…Look for something out of the ordinary,” said Harry, going behind Russelpunk’s desk. Ron, however, seemed keen on examining the different bizarre paraphernalia while Hermione was naturally interested with the books, forgetting slightly about her resistance to enter the office.

After spending more than a few minutes of rummaging carefully in Russelpunk’s drawers, Harry found that Ron was just playing with a dark wizard toy and Hermione buried her nose on book entitled, “The Rise and Rise of the Dark Arts”.

“Hey!” Harry hissed to Ron and Hermione, “why aren’t you looking for any clues?” Ron dropped the toy immediately and Hermione quickly returned the book at the shelf. They started to look around in earnest. Harry shook his head and started to walk back to an interesting looking closet just to the side of Russelpunk’s desk. The closet look strangely familiar – he couldn’t recall where he had seen it before. Thinking he’d just be wasting time thinking about it, he move closer and then he slipped, crashing down on the floor.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed and ran to where he disappeared behind the desk. Upon seeing Harry again, she dropped her jaw. “Harry! Oh, my god, you’re hurt!” she gasped.

Harry was on the floor trying to get up, blood smeared all over his robes and hands. He gasped and went pale when he discovered it.

“Y-You’re bleeding!” Ron wheezed.

“No,” Harry said, after checking himself for wounds, “no, I think it’s not mine – I don’t feel anything painful…”

“Then if it’s not yours,” said Hermione tentatively, “then whose is it?”

Harry looked down on the floor again and tried to trace where the pool of blood was coming from. It went towards his back and trailed towards the closet behind him. More blood was dripping from inside it.

“Oh, no!” Hermione breathed. “Can it possibly be…”

Harry stood up and faced the closet forebodingly, wiping his blood smeared hands on his robes. He inched closer towards it, reaching for the knob. Still fearing to see what was inside it, he turned it and opened the doors wide.

Hermione screamed.

Russelpunk was stuffed inside the closet with a knife through his heart. He was dead. Harry felt as if he was watching a replay of his dreams, and he could now hear the same words inside his head:

“The Mudblood is dead! The Mudblood is dead!”

“L-Let’s get out of here!” Harry suggested fearfully. When they turned for the door, Horace Whipple, with an unknown wizard, was at the doorway and was staring at them, making Hermione scream again. Harry froze and he didn’t know what to do at the moment being caught with blood on his hands with a dead body in the closet.

“What’re you doing here?” Whipple asked. He then noticed the blood on Harry’s hands and robes. “How come you have blood all over you…I…”

The wide open closet caught his attention next. Russelpunk’s lifeless face could be seen from where he stood, and he narrowed his eyes towards Harry. “O’Grady, look for Seymour and Minister Fudge, quick!” he ordered his companion. “We may have caught a murderer on the act.”

O’Grady didn’t wait a second more to go looking for them. Whipple raised and pointed his wand at Harry’s direction. “Put your wands slowly on the floor and roll them towards me, you three. Any sudden moves and I will curse you…”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione quietly did what they were told to do. “Sir, I didn’t…” Harry started.

“Silence!” he barked. Without removing his glare towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he scooped up their wands and placed them in his pockets. “You three better look for good lawyers. If proven, murder is punishable by death.”

Hermione sobbed, and Ron looked extremely terrified.

“Sir…I didn’t do it…I,” Harry pleaded, but Whipple cut him off again.

“I said silence! I have no power to judge you, though you will have the opportunity to defend yourselves in front of the Winzegamot. But from the looks of scene in front of me, you don’t seem to have any hope to…”

Fudge and Seymour had entered the office. “Whipple – you wanted to see me…” he said, but dropped his jaw when he saw what he was seeing inside. He looked dog tired, but he was shocked by the terrible sight in front of him – a dead body and three scared students with blood all over one of them. “Tell me what’s happening, Whipple,” he added slowly.

“Minister,” Whipple replied without lowering his wand, “we’re looking at the crime scene of a murder, and I caught these students inside as the culprits…”

“But we didn’t do it, Minister!” Harry implored.

“Quiet!” Whipple yelled.

Seymour went over to the closet, careful not to step on any evidence, and checked on Russelpunk. After feeling for his pulse from the professor’s neck, he looked back at Fudge and shook his head. “He’s lifeless.”

Fudge then stared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said “Okay, let’s hear what you have to say now.”

“Minister, we went inside the office and I tripped and fell on a on a pool of blood. Then we found Professor Russlepunk inside the closet and he was dead. Th-that’s it…”

“Good story, Potter,” Whipple snorted. “But unfortunately for you I don’t buy it. You stabbed the victim to death and stuffed him in the closet! That’s why you have blood all over your hands and your robes – and your friends here are your accomplices!”

“But sir,” Hermione cried, “he’s telling the truth, I swear!”

“Then what were you three doing inside the office then, Granger?” Fudge tested.

Hermione didn’t know how to answer that, and gazed at Harry for one.

“See, there,” Whipple laughed. “She couldn’t even answer a simple question. That, in itself, is highly suspicious.”

Fudge nodded. “I want them put under arrest, men,” he said seriously. “We’ll bring them to London to be interrogated and charged with murder.”

“Why, Fudge?” Dumbledore asked from behind, startling him slightly.

“Oh, it’s you,” Fudge said cheekily. “Administrator Whipple caught your students here with a body red handed. It seems they have committed the heinous crime of murder on a professor of Hogwarts, possibly out of hatred towards him. Therefore, they shall be brought to London for investigation, and like I said, booked for murder.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Then how could you suspect Harry Potter and his friends are really the perpetrators of this crime?”

Fudge stared at Dumbledore incredulously. “Can’t you for yourself, old man?” he shouted, pointing at the scene. “They’ve been found with blood on their hands! Even a five-year old could see something wrong with this!”

“Apparently so. So, have you already conducted a crime scene investigation, may I ask?”

“Of course we already had!” Fudge screamed. “We couldn’t just accuse anybody without doing that – it’s standard procedure! It’s…it’s…” Fudge paused. He then looked around slowly for Whipple and said, “Have you?”

Whipple gulped, and sheepishly shook his head at him. Fudge roared in anger.

“Then, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, smirking, “we can’t just arrest Mr. Potter and his friends just because you found them in a room with a dead person in a closet. Until a crime scene investigation is thoroughly conducted, concluded, and an official forensic report is filed, nobody can be charged with murder. Like you said, it’s standard procedure. There might be some other explanation for the reason of Harry’s presence in this room when the body was found.” Dumbledore turned to Harry and asked gently “Can you tell me your story, please, Harry?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, “I already told them we found Professor Russelpunk dead inside the closet after I slipped on the floor on a pool of blood…”

“Thank, you, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Harry’s story may be true or not and the only way to find out is to look for evidence inside the crime scene. The wizard criminal code says every person is innocent until proven guilty. Harry and his friends can be questioned inside the crime scene, but they cannot be arrested until there is and a warrant of issued against them when the Winzegamot deems there is probable cause based on the crime scene report.”

“But they’ve been caught at the scene of the crime!” Fudge argued hotly. “Whipple was the first to see them here!”

“Yes, but did Horace Whipple witness any of my students on the act of killing Professor Russelpunk?” Dumbledore countered.

Fudge growled in fury.

“Headmaster Dumbledore’s right, Minister,” Seymour concurred, with a noticeable look of concern and anxiety on his face. “It’s the law, and we must follow it.”

Fudge shot a stare at Seymour. He was miffed at being lectured by a lowly Ministry Wizard because it made him look ignorant. He then looked at Whipple again for his answer. He only got another embarrassed nod from him, making him curse loudly. “Okay, okay, start recording the scene, search for evidence, and get it over with!” he said impatiently with a wave of his hand. He then pointed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “No one gets out of this room especially you three. Who’s a qualified W.C.S.I. around here?”

Seymour raised his hand immediately. He was an official Wizard Crime Scene Investigator along with Peter Burton. When Fudge begrudgingly jerked his thumb towards the closet, they immediately went to work. Burton opened a large suitcase full of forensic tools and began searching for clues that they hoped would point to the murderer. Seymour, meanwhile, went over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and rounded them up for an interview.

“Mr. Seymour,” Hermione said at once, still with tears in her eyes, “we didn’t do it, I swear!”

Seymour nodded at her compassionately and said, “First you three need to cooperate with me and answer a few questions and file a statement. Then you will be fingerprinted and your wands temporarily confiscated for some tests.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione groaned, but they had no choice but to comply. They told Seymour all that they knew. They even told him truthfully about their purpose why they had entered Russelpunk’s office without permission, and that is because they suspected him as a Death Eater and a part of the alleged plot to kidnap Harry for Voldemort. Seymour didn’t seem to be surprised by that, and religiously jotted down all the information on a parchment.

After the interview, Seymour took Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s fingerprints and rejoined Burton who Harry saw taking out a white robe stained with blood and something silver from a drawer. Seymour put it in a shimmering pouch sealed it without inspecting the objects. Harry thought he had seen those things before but could not remember at once because of the tension he was feeling at the moment.

Lastly, Burton tapped his wand on the knife’s handle, extracted it from the body of Russelpunk with a gloved hand, and dropped it in another shimmering pouch. Seymour declared the investigation over and covered Russelpunk’s body in a bag to be removed later.

“What are you findings?” Fudge said lazily.

“As of the moment, all the evidence gathered does not point to any person,” Seymour replied. “We will send all the evidence to London for further testing, and the Wizard Crime Lab will submit its recommendation to the Winzegamot.”

“Unacceptable!” Fudge bellowed. “Potter and his friends must not go free yet otherwise they will go into hiding! Arrest them!”

“Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair and glared at him, his eyes brimming with fire and his wand on his hand.

“Are you going to stop me, Albus?” Fudge challenged him, but he visibly shook as he looked up at him. Whipple and O’Grady faced towards the direction of Dumbledore, ready to protect the Minister of Magic.

“I will if I have to, as I see grave injustice given against my students!”

“What more evidence do we need to see, old man?” Fudge roared. “I am responsible for protecting the interest of the wizard public! If the people know I let go of the suspects when I already have them in custody, they will have my head!”

“Better your head than my innocent students’, Cornelius!” Dumbledore retorted.

Fudge looked stunned after hearing what Dumbledore had said. “How dare you!!! What’s your proof that your students are innocent already, Albus?!?”

“There’s one more thing left to do, Cornelius. Seymour, will you please take out the knife and place it on the table?” Dumbledore asked him gently.

Seymour was taken aback. He didn’t know why Dumbledore had made a strange request, but he granted it. As long as he had gloves on, he could still extract the knife safely from the pouch without contaminating it.

“What’s the meaning of this, Albus?” Fudge demanded, darting his eyes between him and the knife, which was now resting on the desk.

“I haven’t seen Seymour check the knife for prints…” he replied. “It’s a very serious oversight.”

Seymour gasped. He had neglected to do a basic procedure of forensics, and his face showed he was extremely anxious about it. As if he was reluctantly admitting to committing a glaring mistake by obliging to check the knife for fingerprints like Dumbledore had pointed out, he tapped his wand on it to extract some. But there wasn’t any. “It’s clean,” he said.

“You’re wasting my time, Albus!” Fudge said angrily. “Your students will be arrested and brought to London, period! I am the Minister of Magic, and I will do everything in my power to solve this case!”

Dumbledore didn’t answer him at once and gazed slowly towards a frightened looking Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He watched at them for a little more while, and Harry sensed deep sadness in Dumbledore by the look of his eyes. Harry didn’t know what Dumbledore was thinking about at the moment, nor did Ron and Hermione.

“Please take one more look at the knife, Seymour,” Dumbledore said again, sounding strangely resigned.

Fudge scowled and gritted his teeth with growing rage. “I don’t know what good it will do, Albus! He didn’t find anything the first time - how could he find another then?”

But Seymour gasped again this time after discovering something new. He had extracted a well defined form of a thumbprint were none had come from before, and recorded it in a parchment. He didn’t understand it himself, and sweat ran down on his face.

Dumbledore walked over to the parchment and pressed his thumb on it, leaving a mark for Seymour to inspect. The wizard then compared the thumbprints from the knife and Dumbledore’s sample. “It’s a positive match,” Seymour breathed. “It looks like the Headmaster had handled the knife…and possibly killed the victim.”

Dumbledore gazed at Fudge’s incredulous face. Even the Minister couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. It looked like Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, had murdered a member of his own faculty.

“What???” Hermione cried. She refused to believe her beloved Headmaster could do such a thing. “There must be a mistake!!!”

Dumbledore kept silent. He then rolled and locked his eyes to Harry’s. Harry knew it was a warning.

“What are you standing there for!!!” Fudge screamed at Whipple. “Arrest him!”

“Ron, Hermione, DUCK!” Harry yelled, and they dropped to the floor behind the desk, hearing the different jets of spells that thundered all over the room. Hermione screamed as the whole office shook and dust and debris from the ceiling fell down on them. Seymour had dived behind the desk, too, and he covered the three kids as much as he could with his body. They didn’t know what was happening at Dumbledore and Fudge’s side of the room, and who was hurting or winning. The crack of curses died down as soon as it started, and after hearing a lull, Harry risked injury to take a look around.

Thick dust had covered Harry’s vision, and when it had began to clear up, he saw Cornelius Fudge standing alone in the middle of the floor unscathed, but shaking from head to foot. Whipple and O’Grady’s lay down on the floor looking dead, but their chests rose and fell while they breathed unconsciously. Both their white hair was scorched black and their suits burned to a pulp. Harry searched for Dumbledore around, but he had already disappeared, apparently escaping and refusing to be captured.

Harry wasn’t sure if the Headmaster really did kill Russelpunk, or if he just owned up to the murder to spare him, Ron, and Hermione. Either way, Harry knew this was very bad. Dumbledore, the only one Harry relied on for wisdom and protection, the only one he could fully trust, was gone from Hogwarts.

-o0o-

Chapter 16 coming soon.

Author’s note: I’ve underestimated the potential length of this chapter, therefore the “surprise” I mentioned last chapter will be written after this one. Sorry about that. But I hope it will be a surprise, though I think that most this story’s intelligent readers have already figured it out! (hehehehe). Chapter 16 will signal the start of the escalation towards the climax and ending.

Please do leave a review after reading. I just want to know how I’m doing. Thanks! There are still lots of action and important events up ahead to write for this story. As always, you may check the top of this chapter sometime to know when to expect another update. Thanks for reading!

17. Date at Hogsmeade

New Update (November 21,2004): I'll do my best effort to post an update by Wednesday. Aside from the current demands of my job, the next chapter is proving to be difficult to write because I'm still undecided what better path to follow for the story out of the old outline. The chapter has only passed the 4000-word mark as of today, though I'm still not happy with how the chapter is written yet (I think it's pretty sloppy for now). So please bear with me. Thanks!

Update: The event in the alleyways has been slightly expanded (I felt it was lacking). I'm definitely going to get busy, but don't worry, I'm still writing the next chapter even for just a few paragraphs at a time. Thanks for the reviews!

Author's Note: Thanks to - for their reviews! As always, every review is highly appreciated. I'm posting this chapter this early before something comes up again with my job - I'm going to get extra busy again this week so the next update after this might take a little longer. I'll let you know.

Just a note: I just noticed the last chapter was like the Order of the Pheonix when Dumbledore fought off Fudge in his office. No wonder it was easy to write (hee hee). Oh, well, too late to change it.

On with the show now!

Chapter 16

Date at Hogsmeade

Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't believe it. It felt so unreal for them Dumbledore had suddenly left - and worse he was now marked as a fugitive from law. They didn't know what would happen to Hogwarts now that he was gone. He was the only force around them that Voldemort or the Death Eaters had to reckon with, and it would then be natural for them to believe that they could now do everything they wanted to do in Hogwarts now that Dumbledore wasn't around to stop them. This was the latest of the string of troubles plaguing Harry and his friends, which started from Hermione's magical accident in class more than a month ago.

For Hermione who kept glancing edgily at Harry, it was him who'd be the most vulnerable without Dumbledore's protection. She didn't know if she and Ron could be powerful enough to stop any attempt to snatch Harry out of Hogwarts anymore.

The DADA teacher's office now looked very messy. Debris had about covered the floor. Seymour helped Harry, Ron, and Hermione to stand up and asked them to stay while he checked on Whipple and O'Grady. Dumbledore had merely stunned them in swift execution. Knowing that the Headmaster had disproved Harry, Ron, and Hermione's culpability to the murder of Russelpunk, he gave their wands back to them.

“S-Seymour,” Fudge said, still shaking, “secure the evidence and send out word on the Ministry of Magic for an all-points bulletin for Albus Dumbledore. I want him arrested as soon as he's spotted, understood? Expedite your report to the Winzegamot - we will immediately issue a warrant for his arrest.”

“Yes, Minister.”

“And have someone clean them up and bring them new clothes,” Fudge ordered Seymour, pointing at the still out-cold Whipple and O'Grady.”

“Pardon me, sir,” Seymour said tentatively, “But I believe Mr. Potter and his friends would like to be dismissed now, sir?”

Fudge gazed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione who still looked shaken, too. After a moment of thought, he then reluctantly told them, “Fine, you're dismissed…”

They quickly walked out, feeling no real enthusiasm of staying any longer in the presence of Cornelius Fudge. They didn't feel like talking to each other as they crossed the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, though they knew without saying that they will need to discuss their concerns later in a private place.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione emerged out of the classroom, still covered from head to toe with dust. Every student passing them by stopped to stare at them, wondering what happened. Some had asked questions - others were laughing at the way they looked - but they didn't care and they knew very well not to mind them. Harry was the most peculiar of the three because he was smeared with blood, and upon seeing him the students began whispering to their classmates.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked on, going to the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower to do the very first thing they thought of doing - to clean up. They got the same reaction like they had outdoors from their Gryffindor classmates in the common room when they saw them. The three friends went up the spiral staircase without answering any questions, but Hermione broke their silence when they were near the door towards the dormitories.

“Let's meet at the edge of the lake in an hour, okay?” she whispered.

Harry and Ron immediately nodded, and continued their way pensively towards the boys' room. Hermione could only watch them quietly enter their dormitory and then begin to get extremely get worried about Harry's wellbeing.

-o0o-

Despite being the person who suggested that they meet by the lake in an hour, Hermione was late. Ron conjured his own skates to try to entertain himself on the frozen lake, while Harry settled with sitting down under a tree to think deeply.

“She tells us to meet here in an hour - and it's almost two,” grumbled Ron. “If she doesn't come in ten minutes, we're out of here.”

Harry nodded his head absently, and scanned the grounds for any sign of Hermione. Soon, he spotted her walking over towards them from afar. “At last, she's here,” he said, sighing.

As soon as she reached Harry and Ron, she said, “Wow, I thought I'd come here much earlier than you but you got here first - that's good.”

Ron looked at Harry in bewilderment. “You're late for almost an hour, Hermione! How can you tell us you'd expect to be here ahead of us?”

“What?”

“That's right,” Harry said. “Ron was getting tired of skating already…”

“Oh,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes slowly to the side. “Uh, I guess I…took too long in the hot shower I lost track of time…”

But Harry looked skeptical. “Is it still happening yet? You probably had another of those memory lapses…”

Hermione closed here eyes in disgust. She walked closer to Harry, as if her feet weighed a ton, and sat down beside him on the snow, groaning. “But I've been taking my medicine! I was hoping it wouldn't happen again, but I think it did. Strange, I didn't faint, though. I should've known I suffered another attack then.”

“Hey, you didn't feel anything at all?” Harry said patiently. “That's - different. I don't know what that means, but she did say the potions won't have an instant effect when you start taking them again, right? So, no need to worry for now, I guess.”

“Does that mean I'm getting better now?”

“I hope. Looks like it.” Harry smiled at her. As long as Hermione didn't deny she still had a problem, she'd surely take her medicine religiously.

“You know, I met Seymour again on the way here,” she told Harry and Ron.

“Oh, what did he say to you?” asked Ron, moving closer to Harry and Hermione to listen.

“He looked genuinely sad and demoralized. He asked me how I felt and he wanted it very much to know how you two felt, too, after what happened.”

“Tell him if you meet him the feeling is mutual,” Harry groaned. “What else?”

“That was just about it, except that he wishes to see us before bed tonight to tell us something important,” Hermione replied, thinking more about her meeting with Seymour. “He was just then muttering about to himself and apologized for doing so in front of me, said goodbye and then got back talking again to himself when he took off.”

“Poor Seymour,” Ron said. “I think he's okay, isn't he? To tell you the truth, he's growing up on me,” he added, shrugging.

“Maybe,” Harry concurred. “I guess you're right. Come to think of it, he tried to buy us time by telling Fudge we shouldn't be arrested first until an investigation is over. I couldn't forget the look on Seymour when he lifted up the fingerprint from that knife, and then after he said it matched Dumbledore's.”

“I saw that, too,” Hermione said. “Then I guess he's really on our side, huh?”

“Probably,” Harry nodded after looking at Ron for his opinion (he was nodding, too, but still with a hint of reservation). “Let's just try to see how he can help us even more.”

“We need all the help that we could get - even from Seymour,” Ron said gloomily. “We're gonna be swamped by Death Eaters next then, I suspect. Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts is fair game.”

“I really can't believe Dumbledore could do such a thing as to kill a Hogwarts teacher,” Hermione said shaking her head. “It's just so incredible! There's got to be some kind of explanation for all this.”

“Someone else did it - I'm willing to bet everything I have!” Ron said hotly. “Well, I really don't have anything good to bet…”

“That's what I'm thinking, too, all along,” Harry said. “I refuse believe he could kill anyone in cold blood. Let's think of something - some kind of theory. Maybe we could help clear Dumbledore's name if we can.”

“Yeah,” agreed Hermione. “We better use of our free time to help Dumbledore. We could begin now…”

“All right…who could it be, then?” Ron asked. “It could be anyone at Hogwarts - well, except of course, us.”

“Whipple,” Hermione proposed at once. “It's got to be Whipple. You know it's him.”

“Okay, let's say it's Whipple,” Harry said, looking at both Hermione and Ron. “Why would he kill Russelpunk? What would be his most likely motive?” He didn't get an instant answer because he allowed everyone to think to about.

Ron spoke first. “How about this - Russelpunk owed him lots of money, and he couldn't pay Whipple a Knut, so he killed him…”

Hermione scowled and shook her head, making Ron stop and think of another more likely scenario.

Harry was the next to chip in his own theory. “Let's try Whipple was going to steal something in the office and Russelpunk caught him, leading to a powerful struggle and Whipple won him over - stabbed him on the heart and stuffed him in the closet!”

Hermione felt that still wasn't it. “The office looked very tidy when we got in, Harry…and besides, we didn't see the dots on the map when he got in Whipple's office to suggest any fight was going on inside. Russelpunk came in and out without incident. It goes against our theory he's taking instructions from Whipple.”

“Whipple cleaned the office up!” Ron added brightly.

“After a fight when you'd end up killing somebody,” Harry thought, “would you ever like to stay longer in crime scene, Ron?”

“You're right…” Ron said, dropping his shoulder, “I'd vamoose!”

“There was no sign of a struggle,” Hermione said next. “That means Russelpunk let his killer in. He should be someone he trusted, or in close contact with.”

“Then it boils down to Whipple!” Harry exclaimed. “He let Whipple in. Then we're back to our first question: why would he want to kill Russelpunk?”

“How about this…” Ron started, though Harry and Hermione expected him to think of another bad theory. “Whipple knew Seymour had collected some kind of evidence to prove there were really Death Eaters in Hogwarts - something he and Fudge strongly denies. Seymour told us that in his office before, right? Whipple is a Death Eater, and so is Russelpunk. Seymour might have stolen something they wanted back real bad, and he locked it in his chest while he looked for more. Whipple ordered Russelpunk to break in at Seymour's office and steal back the evidence, whatever it was.

“Now, Russelpunk did what he was told to do and got the evidence back to his possession. Whipple knew Seymour was on to him but he lacked proof. It was only a matter of time when Seymour had enough proof to identify Russelpunk as a Death Eater. Whipple needed to silence Russelpunk or else he'd be linked, so he killed him…does that make any sense?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each while they considered Ron's theory. It sounded wild and out of whack, but they noted it jibed well with real events.

“Seymour did take out something from Russelpunk's office when he checked the crime scene,” Harry mused. “Some white cloth and a silver thing - I swear I've seen that somewhere before - but where?”

“Possibly a Death Eater mask and robe…I've seen one of those, too, in You-Know-What,” Ron suggested, and his eyes went round along with Harry's then it dawned upon them what it meant.

“Then do you think,” Hermione said, a little breathless, “it was Russelpunk's Death Eater robe and mask that he stole back from Seymour's chest?”

“Most probably,” said Harry excitedly. “Russelpunk knew it was the most damning evidence against him. If he got caught alive with it, Whipple knew he'd sing like a canary! Seymour was on to Russelpunk, right? He murdered him before anyone could arrest and ask him questions. That makes sense to me!”

Ron nodded. “And that's probably why Whipple wanted to arrest us at once without conducting any investigation back at the DADA teacher's office. He tried to seize the opportunity to pin us to the crime and he'll go scot-free! Then why did he leave the robe and mask when he could?”

“It was well hidden,” Hermione said. “If I were Whipple who got stressed out after killing Russelpunk, I'd never find the very thing I wanted to get in time even if it stared right in front of me. Seymour instead found it after he thoroughly searched for more clues…WCSI's are trained for that…”

Harry suddenly looked extremely sad and guilty, and Hermione noticed it. “Harry, what's wrong?” she asked concernedly.

“It's all my fault…” he groaned.

“What's your fault?” Ron asked, frowning.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron then stared back down on the snow. “Dumbledore planted his fingerprint on the knife to save us - I'm now sure of it. He didn't have to walk to the knife and handle it, he did it by magic. Seymour didn't see the print the first time, but in the second, he did. That explains it. If I didn't insist on taking a look inside Russelpunk's office, Dumbledore wouldn't have smeared his own name just to bail us out of a bad situation…and he'd still be with us…”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other sadly, knowing Harry was right. But they didn't want to blame him further and they searched for a way to ease Harry's feelings. There was no point to make anybody else feel down at a time like this.

“We didn't know that was going to happen at all, Harry,” Hermione said soothingly. “Please don't blame yourself - we would have wanted to know everything we could about the mystery that's happening around us, and I agree there's no other way we can know other than looking for all the clues ourselves.”

“I - I should have listened to you, Hermione,” he said, shaking his head.

“What's done is done, Harry,” she said softly, leaning her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. “We'll do what we can to keep ourselves safe from now on - Dumbledore would want us to do that. We've never seen the last of him, I'm sure of that. He'll be back…”

“You think so?” Harry said, turning his head towards her.

“Yeah, I know so,” she smiled and rested her head slowly on his shoulder, making Harry feel a little better and hopeful that Dumbledore's absence was just temporary.

“As long as we're together, no one can touch you, mate,” Ron assured, and Hermione seconded it.

“Thanks, both of you,” Harry told them gratefully. “I don't know what to do without you.”

They didn't talk further for a few minutes, allowing themselves to think more about what they had discussed in their own.

“Are you both thinking of going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione later.

“I will if you would,” Ron answered uncertainly. “Why, do you have second thoughts?”

“Well, sort of,” Harry admitted slowly. “I don't know…how about you Hermione?”

Hermione removed her head on Harry's shoulder and looked back at him gently with a hint of disappointment on her face. Slowly, she replied, “Yes…well, I was still kind of hoping our, uhm, you know…date will still…”

Harry slapped his forehead.

“How can you think of that after what happened, Hermione?” Ron blurted out suddenly, but he fell silent when Harry restrained him from talking further with a hand over his arm.

“Hermione, I'm sorry…” Harry said guiltily. “I'm so sorry if I forgot all about it! After what happened with Dumbledore, it just got lost in my mind…”

Hermione, however, suddenly felt ashamed. “Harry - I never meant to…” she said quickly. “We can call if off if you say so…I won't mind at all - honest! Your safety is more important than a mere get-together…”

“How can we be sure if we'll be safer alone in Hogwarts when everybody else is in Hogsmeade, right?” Harry said, smiling.

“Oh…I don't know…”

It was Harry's turn to look disappointed. He personally believed that the Hogsmeade day was entirely Fudge's idea to repair his failing image, and staying in Hogwarts with no one else around but the Ministry wizards/Death Eaters was more likely dangerous.

“Hermione, do I have to ask you again for a date?” he asked slowly. “I'm sure we're better off with the whole school there - no one will try to take me away when there are too many people around, right? I was really looking forward for tomorrow - I only forgot about it for a while…please?”

Hermione just stared at him indecisively. Harry began to regret ever asking Ron and Hermione if they'd really go to Hogsmeade the same day.

Ron, sensing that Harry really did want to go on a date with Hermione and the Hogsmeade day was the best time for it, he said “We've seen the announcement on the board - all teachers and students are required to attend. I don't know what they will do to us if we don't, then why'd we want to find out the hard way, huh? Looks like we have no choice. You two go on a date. Have fun for a change. We need all the fun that we could get…” he smiled at both of them.

“Hogsmeade is safe from external attack, too,” Hermione thought loudly.

“Then you'll go with me?” Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione finally smiled, and nodded her head. “Okay…are you sure you're…”

“Yes, I'm sure,” Harry laughed. “We've been deprived of having some fun for a long time - we need a break, don't you agree? Let's not worry about anything else for a day, can we?”

“Okay, as long as we remember what Dumbledore told us…” Hermione started.

“Constant Vigilance!” Ron growled in an over-acting manner, shaking his fist in mid-air.

“That's Moody's…I mean Crouch's,” Harry reminded him.

“Close…”

-o0o-

Fudge immediately filled the post of Hogwarts Headmaster, Officer-in-Charge, by self appointment until the School Governors had decided on whom to appoint now that Dumbledore was a fugitive. Supposedly it was McGonagall (who'd automatically ascend to the post because she was the Deputy Headmistress) except that she was also under detention in London for her previous “crime”. Everyone in Hogwarts had learned about what happened in Russelpunk's office late that afternoon. As expected, it came to everyone as a shock. Fudge had announced it but in a way that Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew wasn't true. Fudge told Hogwarts that Horace Whipple had caught Dumbledore in the act of stabbing Russelpunk tried to kill him, too, when he tried to save the professor. For that, he would also be charged with frustrated murder on top of first-degree murder.

Fudge's takeover of the Headmaster's post didn't come without the usual conspiracy theories from the students, of course. Since it was unsurprisingly incredible that Dumbledore could do such a thing as to murder a person in cold blood, many believed it was another one of Fudge's ploy to wrest control of Hogwarts - being a power hungry megalomaniac was impressed upon him ever since he declared the State of Emergency for no other reason but to save his own job. Even though they thought of these theories, the students could still do nothing and just go on with the flow.

“What's going to happen to Hogwarts?” was the most common question Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard from most of their schoolmates around the Great Hall at dinner that night. Nobody knew of the answer, of course; “Ask Trelawny” was the quip of the day.

Fudge, who visibly looked excited with his temporary assignment as Headmaster, seemed to have been enjoying the novelty of doing dull speeches in front of the student body. For the whole time at dinner, he would suddenly stand up from Dumbledore's chair out of the blue and say something, even though not everyone cared to listen to him (except most of the Slytherins). The only thing that earned the attention of the students was his talk about the special Hogsmeade day scheduled for the next morning.

“I do hope you recognize the significance of this event, dear ladies and gentlemen,” he recited loudly. “It proves that things have gone rapidly back to normal, not that the state of affairs were abnormal to begin with, but the wizard population has fortunately learned about the dire effects of listening in to and making false stories about You-Know-Who's return - the rumor mongering and unrest among militants has died down. They have finally understood how it affects the peace. This, I can say, was the rationale behind the decision of your Minister of Magic to declare the State of Emergency. Its purpose to preserve and maintain order has born fruit. History will judge me kindly, I assure you. I shall lift the State of Emergency in a few days when we find that the threat has passed.”

Fudge expected the Great Hall to make a thunderous applause, but the result was too far from what he had imagined. Only a few students clapped their hands, and none of the teachers. He acted as if he didn't mind, but his face betrayed his feelings. What he said next even suggested his temper was rising - his reddening face said so.

“Whether you like it or not, everybody - I mean everybody - must participate in tomorrow's Hogsmeade day. Anyone caught left at Hogwarts will be punished severely by either suspension or expulsion. I am the acting Headmaster now. This is my decree, and I have the absolute power to impose these measures to guarantee compliance! My Ministry Wizards here will patrol the school grounds and detain those who are caught not in Hogsmeade - you have no reason not to be there. Furthermore, your attire must be your Type-A uniforms with winter apparel like scarves, winter cloaks, robes, and gloves. No exceptions.”

Seeing that nobody was reacting, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Look, isn't that what you all want? I'm giving you a very big favor to have the time of your lives and it will look bad if we're not united. Please appreciate what I'm trying to give to you. I…” he looked down at Whipple who was sitting on McGonagall's chair and yanking his coat for attention. Whipple whispered something to him.

Hermione and Ron then looked at each other and made faces. They both thought Fudge was really losing it now - he looked like he was pleading his case in front of everybody it was pathetic.

Fudge let out a silly smile. “As I was saying - tomorrow, I want you all to have fun - forget about what had happened in the past month and look towards the future. Remember, everybody must be in Hogsmeade - no excuses. We must now rest for a wonderful day tomorrow. Good night.” When he stopped his speech, his face suddenly fell into a frown and he angrily beckoned Whipple to follow him out of the side access door.

“Now we know what he'll do to us if we get caught behind,” Ron hissed. “Forced fun, Hogsmeade is tomorrow…who wants to get expelled for not getting some fun, right?”

Hermione, meanwhile, looked rattled. The term “expulsion” had always been one of her worst nightmares.

“What is it to him if anyone chooses not to go, huh, like us?” Harry asked as he walked with Ron and Hermione together along the corridors to his detention. “Just asking, Hermione,” he said quickly, seeing her extremely anxious face.

“I don't know - but is it really a compelling reason to be expelled?” Ron said. “That's too harsh! I'm sure parents will sue him mercilessly for it he'll grow poor.”

“Let's not test it, please?” Hermione pleaded.

Harry's tenth detention tonight was barely halfway through the total of all boys' lavatories he was ordered to clean up. Up to now he still didn't know it, but since the beginning Hermione had helped him magically to lessen his effort (Flitwick had taught her so). With Ron now was their good friend again and free to join in after the ill-conceived two-man rule had been cancelled, detention seemed more like a little party for the three friends.

Nearing the end of detention, they heard a knock on the door.

“I guess that's Seymour,” Hermione said, and she let him in after opening the door.

“How're you doing, Mr. Potter?” he asked politely after he settled down on a stool.

“Okay, I guess,” Harry answered slowly, mopping the tiled floor.

“I'm very sorry about what happened to the Headmaster today, Mr. Potter,” Seymour sighed. “I'm anxious to explain to you my side about all this, if you'll let me…”

Hermione turned her gaze at Harry, who smiled slightly and nodded his head. “You can call me Harry, sir, and this is Hermione and Ron. They're my best friends.”

“Thank you…nice to know you, Harry, Hermione, and Ron,” Seymour said. “You can call me Henry if you want. About what happened in the office today, I'm certain there was nothing on the knife when I first examined it. It was thoroughly clear of any prints, but I found it shocking to say the least to find a very well-defined one the second time. It's…it's just impossible.”

“Have you figured out why?” Hermione asked him.

“I think so - I suspect Professor Dumbledore imprinted it himself to save you from being taken away by Whipple and Fudge. I don't believe Dumbledore killed Russelpunk. He has no clear motive - but Fudge seems to have invented it for him already…”

“Who do you think killed Russelpunk then, Henry?” Harry asked next. This very thing was what he was most interested about, and there was nothing better than to listen to the opinion from the investigator himself.

“It's unethical to point to a culprit whilst the investigation is still fresh, but I have a strong hunch it's Whipple. My reason, you may ask? Have you seen me take out something near Russelpunk's body?”

Harry nodded his head. “Yeah, it was a white cloth and something silvery - we suspect it was some Death Eater robe and mask.”

Seymour regarded Harry for a moment, and he smiled. He looked to be impressed of how observant Harry was. “That's right. It was a Death Eater robe and mask.”

“Whose was it?” asked Ron.

“Russelpunk's,” Seymour answered immediately. “He probably found out that I already had it and that's why he broke in to my office a few nights ago, you know, when I found you and your friends in there.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ron, looking bright in the face. “I bet Russelpunk was killed by Whipple because you were on to him, and he didn't want Russelpunk to spill the beans on Whipple if you arrested him, right?”

Seymour again looked at Ron for a moment, also with a sign of being impressed with his deductive skills. “That's absolutely right, Ron,” he said, grinning. “That's the same theory I've been working on. You have what it takes to be an investigator when you leave school. Good work.”

“Hear that? I thought of that theory myself, too,” Ron said, nudging his elbow at Hermione and looked at her wearing a silly smirk, feeling proud of being praised by a professional WCSI. She, however, was more annoyed of him than feeling proud for him, too.

“Then why can't you arrest Whipple?” Harry said. “You have a strong theory…”

“It's just circumstantial, I'm afraid,” Seymour sighed heavily. “We don't just arrest people out of a hunch - we need strong evidence. Unfortunately Professor Dumbledore presented himself as the murderer to save you from being arrested, and what's done is done. It's quite - heroic for him to that, I admire it. Well, if there's anything I could do for you to ease your pain, please ask.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you, Henry, but we can handle our pain ourselves, thanks. We only need to be extra careful - maybe you could give us an insider what the Death Eaters you know may be up to…it could at least help us avoid them.”

“Of course, but I can't make any promises since I'm not a part of them,” Seymour said, “though we mingle every now and then I could relay to you what's going on in their minds. But there's one thing I heard that you'll be interested in. I have to make it a point to share this to you.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked interestedly.

Seymour looked around nervously as if there were other people around who might be within earshot of their conversation. “There's talk from people inside the Ministry that someone important had suggested the Hogsmeade day to Fudge to take everybody out of Hogwarts except you, Harry.”

“What?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione said at the same time.

“You mean to say this Hogsmeade day was meant for me again?” Harry groaned.

“Yes - that's more likely so. It's just a conspiracy theory from my closest aides there. They usually are right, but the story is still fresh it's sketchy. From what I've heard, part of the alleged `plan' was to detain you here in Hogwarts while everybody was outdoors. For me, it makes a lot of sense. Whipple is strangely assigning all the Death Eater wizards to guard the school tomorrow, and everybody else I know who's clean, including me, will be posted in Hogsmeade. That, I believe, would make it easy for Whipple and his men to do what they want and kidnap Harry without being stopped. Dumbledore's unexpected leave is a big bonus for them…”

“Whoa!” Ron exclaimed. “That sounds bad - Harry's going to Hogsmeade, right, Harry?”

“Yeah, then by all means!” Harry said, looking scared.

“You have to make sure you do, Harry, I ask you for your sake - Burton and I will be around to watch you. They won't try anything when there are a lot of people around. I'll give you protection, even if it causes to me to be fired from my job…I have to warn you though - Whipple is a very crafty man. He might find you tonight and slap you with a trumped-up charge and you can't do anything to contest it.”

“I think what Henry means,” said Hermione, “is that we must not give Whipple any reason to detain you, Harry, isn't that what you're trying to say, Henry?”

“That's right, Hermione,” Seymour answered. “Please do think about what I told you, okay?”

“Okay, thanks,” said Harry.

“I'll have to go now - at least I can sleep better now that I've told you my side, though I'll still be anxious about seeing you in Hogsmeade tomorrow,” Seymour said, standing up from his school. “I hope to see you then…and be careful, the three of you,” He bid goodbye to them and went out of the door.

Harry then faced Hermione and said, “So what do you think?”

Hermione heave a sigh. “If the rumor is true about the plan to hold you back in Hogwarts while the rest of us are out and away, then the most logical thing to do is make sure Whipple doesn't catch up on you before then…”

“I agree with Hermione,” Ron said. “Let's make sure we'll get to Hogsmeade tomorrow with Harry. I'll breathe easier if we make it there.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry grinned. “Thanks for your concern, both of you.”

“You're welcome, Harry,” Hermione replied. “I think it's getting late - let's go back to the Gryffindor tower now.”

A little later after gathering up all their cleaning instruments, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor tower at half past nine. The corridors were deserted as the curfew still has not been lifted yet. Because of what Seymour had suggested to them, Harry was anxious to reach their destination soon otherwise they'd probably be seen by none other Whipple who, if the conspiracy theory in the Ministry of Magic was true, was probably out to make sure he wouldn't make it to Hogsmeade the next day. Hermione and Ron shared Harry's feelings; they walked a little faster than usual.

The very thing that they feared to happen did come. Just as they rounded up the second to the last corner towards the tower, Whipple eerily came out from nowhere.

“What're you three doing walking around this late at night?” he growled behind them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione jumped, and they froze in the middle of the corridor not knowing what to answer him.

“Oh, it's the three of you again,” Whipple said, looking irritated but amused. “Well?”

“Er, Harry Potter here, sir,” said Hermione, “just came from serving detention and I've been assigned to make sure he does it and escort him, sir.”

“I see,” he said quietly. “Then what's this red-haired one doing out, too? Is he also serving detention?”

“Y-yes, sir, I am,” Ron lied. Hermione shot a look at him.

“Then where are your clearance ID's? I don't see you wearing them.”

Harry closed his eyes, disgusted with himself. He realized he forgot to bring his tonight, and it's like giving Whipple a very good excuse to hold him now. Ron shouldn't have lied, too, because he never had been issued one.

“Harry, where's your ID?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Whipple then lectured Hermione. “It's supposed to be your responsibility as a prefect to ensure they're wearing their ID's, miss. Since I don't see that they have, I'm afraid I have to bring you in my office to detain them.” He moved closer to Harry.

“No!” Harry exclaimed.

“What?” Whipple said, irked with Harry's defiance. “You have to follow the rules, Potter, you're still under the rules of the curfew!”

“Sorry, sir,” Hermione said, “but I think he means that he has his ID somewhere in his pocket, isn't that right, Harry?”

Harry gazed at Hermione guiltily. He knew his ID wasn't in his pocket for sure, but maybe it could buy him just a few seconds to allow him to think of another way out. “Uh, yes, I have it here somewhere.” He acted as if he was looking for it in all his pockets, but he was quickly running out of them.

Whipple knew Harry was merely acting, so he shook his head and grabbed Harry and Ron's arm. “Stop wasting my time and come with me!” he snarled.

Hermione held Harry and Ron back, to Whipple's extreme annoyance. “No, please, sir, no!” she pleaded.

“Out of my way, prefect!” he shouted. There would have become a very serious altercation between the four of them if Seymour hadn't appeared from another corridor.

“Oh, there you are, you three!” Seymour yelled. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Whipple stopped what they were doing and looked around at him. “I was looking for you - when I checked the lavatory to see if it was clean, I found this lying on the floor.” He handed Harry and Ron each a clearance ID as soon as he reached them.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, both surprised but relieved, and they decided to play along.

“So that's why I couldn't find my ID's in my pockets!” Harry laughed artificially.

“Yeah!” Ron said, slapping his own face. “How stupid of us!”

Whipple looked visibly foiled, He grabbed the ID's, and seeing Harry and Ron's face and name on them, he gave them back to them. He gazed at Seymour, who was smiling back at him satisfactorily.

“Saved again by somebody, you lucky little monsters,” Whipple said severely, looking at Harry, Ron, and Hermione one by one. “Seymour, I thought it's very clear that we're not supposed to help students - we're here to discipline them.”

“Actually, sir, I do find these three students very disciplined - only that they just left their ID's unintentionally at their place of work. But I assure you, it will only be for this time and shall detain them if I catch them violating the rules.”

“Very well, move on if you will… I'll let you go this time. Just so you know, you've all earned my ire - you've gotten away the last time, and this time, too. But next time, I'm sure you won't be able to. You'll be sorry if you cross me again in a bad mood - mark my words.”

Ron and Hermione stared at Whipple, feeling threatened by what he head said. But for Harry, it was clear that Whipple was bent on preventing him from ever stepping out of Hogwarts tomorrow, he was now sure of it. Whipple then walked off out of sight.

“Thanks for bailing us out again, Henry,” Ron said, blowing air out of his lungs. Seymour looked pale, and he was sweating profusely. He took out a folded wash cloth and wiped his sweaty face with it.

“That was a close call,” he wheezed. “He could have fired me right then…”

“Come again?” Hermione said.

“He could have fired me - and I won't be able to look after you tomorrow…”

“But he would've had put us in the dungeons if we wanted to tonight,” Harry pointed out, “then it wouldn't have mattered if you weren't in Hogsmeade for tomorrow - we wouldn't be there at all…”

“Yeah, of course,” Seymour laughed.

Hermione chuckled along with him. “Henry, I think you're so stressed out you're confused with your priorities - you should relax a little…”

“Yes, I think you're right,” Seymour said, still having a miniature nervous breakdown. “Stress does get the most out of me…”

“But look at the bright side,” Ron added. “This shows that your friends' theory about Whipple trying to hold on to Harry might be true, isn't it?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Seymour said, thinking about it. “Fortunately. I mean….Ohhhh, I'm so hopeless when I'm stressed out. I got to ask you to go off - the sooner you get to your dormitories, the better. I'll see you tomorrow, I hope,” he said walking off.

“Henry, thanks again, okay?” Harry called.

“Y-You're welcome,” Seymour replied.

“Did you really mean what you said about detaining us the next time?”

Seymour smiled and said, “Of course not.” He vanished from sight after he rounded up the next corner to the right.

“That doesn't look encouraging,” Ron thought audibly when they resumed their trek back to the Gryffindor tower.

“What is?” Harry asked.

“Seymour - it looked like he couldn't stand to face Whipple back there. How much more could he protect you and us when a situation gets even more serious?”

“Yeah, I get your point,” Hermione said. “But let's credit him by doing his best to make sure Whipple didn't have an excuse to arrest us tonight. After hearing Whipple talk tonight, I'm now quite convinced the rumor might be true. They're doing all sorts of ingenious things so that they can snatch Harry away from us…we won't let `em.”

Ron agreed with Hermione. “Then if we make it Hogsmeade tomorrow, I'm sure they wouldn't do anything there - that will allow us to find out what they're up to next. After all, we have Seymour now. He's getting pretty handy - look, he even invented my own detention ID!”

“You feel okay Harry?” Hermione asked him.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” Harry assured. “I'm not afraid of Whipple.”

Ron told the Fat Lady the password and they entered the Common Room.

“Let's meet at the courtyard for assembly tomorrow, okay?” Hermione said as they passed by the fireplace. “Harry?”

“Sure, looking forward to it,” he said to her, smiling. “I know a good place where we can have our date…You're gonna like it, if we can find seats…”

Hermione smiled back, and she blushed. “I will. Sweet dreams, Harry.” She then walked up the spiral staircase and entered the girls' dormitory.

“Yeah, sweet dreams,” Harry sighed.

-o0o-

Literally everyone in Hogwarts occupied the courtyard that was usually used as an assembly point during every Hogsmeade day the next morning. It took longer than usual for Argus Filch to call out the names of every known student in Hogwarts it took two hours (the students and faculty became bored to death waiting for him to finish). When Filch at last hoarsely announced the name “Zultz, Bernard”, Hogwarts erupted into cheers. Everyone was accounted for, including anyone who was suffering from a cold (Fudge was serious about not to exempt anyone from Hogsmeade today), much to Madam Pomfrey's extreme disapproval.

Hogsmeade was naturally overcrowded this time, and the presence of the unruly first and second years didn't help. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found it enormously difficult to punch through the thick group of bodies squeezing against each other to have a chance to shop, and the restaurants were always full with a huge waiting list. It took anyone ten-fold more times to just buy a single lemon drop in Honeydukes because the helpless but happy witch who owned the store was simply overwhelmed giving attention to every customer she saw.

“You call this fun?” Ron groaned to Harry as he stood for half an hour trying to pay for his basketful of sweets. “My stomach's growling already.”

Harry placed his own selection of candies in Ron's basket and gave him three Galleons. “Ron, please do me favor and could you please pay for the candies? I think I'm running out of time to have a proper date with Hermione.”

“Hey,” Ron said, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the Galleons. “But, Harry, you're leaving me more than what you're candies are worth…”

“It's to pay for yours, too,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh, Harry, I shouldn't…”

“Please?” Harry pleaded.

“Well, okay! Thanks a lot. Where're you going then?”

“Anywhere with a table and two empty seats!” Harry said, fighting his way out through an ever-increasing flood of customers and waving at Ron goodbye.

“See you around then!” Ron called just as he drowned in a sea of bodies.

Hermione was waiting patiently outside Honeydukes for Harry. “Had success shopping inside there?” she giggled.

“I didn't,” Harry replied, smiling, “but Ron will soon - in about a couple of hours. Now I know why Dumbledore prefers us to have different Hogsmeade days with the other years…this is crazy!” He looked around, whistling at the flow of human traffic around him.

“Fudge doesn't seem to mind, though,” Hermione said darkly, looking up at the Minister of Magic who was on a balcony sipping some tea and being interviewed by a reporter from the Daily Prophet. He looked jolly and proud for this day.

“He's just about the only person who doesn't have to fight through the crowd - he's got his own servants to do everything for him,” Harry replied, seeing a haggard-looking wizard bring him a paper bag full of Honeydukes sweets.

“Where to?” Hermione asked Harry.

“C'mon, let's try to find someplace peaceful,” Harry said as he held her hand. “How about Hog's Head?”

“Are you kidding?” Hermione goggled at him. “No student ever goes in there - it's too dodgy!”

“That's the idea,” Harry said, grinning. “Do we have much choice? Hog's Head's about our only hope for a proper date.”

Hermione looked around her. All the other restaurants were packed with waiting customers. Shrugging and smiling, she said, “Sure, lead the way!”

Hog's Head was located at the other end of Hogsmeade from they were, and Harry pulled Hermione through the tide of students on the way there. After ten minutes and fifty yards later, he said, “Judging from our speed, we'd be in Hog's Head early tonight.”

“What're we going to do?” Hermione asked.

Harry then saw Hagrid's giant back just fifty feet ahead of them as he emerged out from a store. Harry observed that everyone on his path didn't dare to get trampled by the walking giant and always went out of his way to give him space to walk ahead.

“I have an idea,” Harry said, facing at Hermione again. She nodded at him, looking bewildered.

“Oy, Hagrid!” Harry yelled, waving his hand in the air. Hagrid had heard him and turned around - students who were behind him before that immediately stayed clear off in front of him.

“'Lo, Harry! How yer doin?” Hagrid shouted jovially.

“Wait for us! We're coming!” Harry said, and Hagrid nodded his head. Harry turned to Hermione again and smiled. “Hold tight - this is going to be a wild ride.”

“What do you mean?” she said. Hermione was startled when Harry wrapped his left arm around her waist and pressed her closer to him securely. He took out his wand and pointed it up towards a steel horizontal flagpole halfway between them and Hagrid.

“Oh, no…” she said, and embraced Harry's body tightly knowing what he was about to do.

“Carpe Retractum!” Harry bellowed. A whip-like strand of shimmering rope whooshed out the tip of his wand and grappled the pole. Harry and Hermione felt a tug; they were lifted off their feet and zipped towards it.

The sight of Harry and Hermione above as they swung the glowing rope all the way to Hagrid's made more than a few students scream in awe. Hagrid caught Harry and Hermione gently as they landed softly on his chest.

“That's was fantastic!” Hermione exclaimed with glee as Hagrid gently settled her and Harry on the ground. Students laughed, cheered, and clapped their hands at them - even Cornelius Fudge from far away raised his tea cup at them as a form of salute.

“Good thinkin', Harry,” Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder and making his knees collapse on the snow. “Oh, sorry `bout that. Where're yeh both headed teh?”

“Hog's Head,” Hermione replied, helping Harry stand up.

“No kiddin'!” Hagrid exclaimed, smiling down on her. “I'm headin' there, too. Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” Harry. “I was hoping you clear the way for us, you know. The crowd's too much to handle.”

“Sure, I know what yeh mean,” Hagrid laughed and winked. “Just don't stay teh near under me belly because I can't see anything' under it I migh' step on yeh…”

Like Harry had hoped, their path towards Hog's Head was clear, thanks to Hagrid's daunting size. As they stood by the entrance, they saw the pub was devoid of students as Harry had expected - only that there were some scruffy looking wizards getting drunk already this early on the day though they looked harmless. The bartender looked at Harry and Hermione suspiciously, but they didn't mind him, although Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and inched back behind him because she felt very uneasy with all the eyes staring at them.

“Don' worry `bout `em, you two,” Hagrid told them. “They won' touch yeh when I'm around'. I'll be at the table beside the back wall. They have butterbeers here, too, and I `spect they're abou' ten years old. So much the better, I say! Just don't try the Firewhiskey or yeh migh' get in ter a lot `o trouble.”

Harry and Hermione smiled edgily at Hagrid, chose a small round table near the exit, and settled themselves down on the chairs. The bartender went over to them and demanded their orders.

“Uh, two Butterbeers, please,” Harry said. “And do you have anything to eat around here?”

“Yes, if you could take it,” the bartended replied.

“Sorry, but what do you mean by that?” Hermione asked.

“Jus' give `em two tuna sandwiches, Marty,” Hagrid called from the back. “And absolutely no earth worms!”

Marty the Bartender whipped around and walked back to the kitchen to prepare their orders. Hermione swallowed hard.

“Sorry if our date isn't the way you imagined it to be, Hermione,” Harry apologized sheepishly. “I promise to make it up to you sometime - maybe in London or the next Hogsmeade day - I'm sure it'll be less crowded then…”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, Harry, don't worry about this, this is great,” she said sincerely. “What matters is we're together on our first date and I'll never, ever, forget this.” She held both of Harry's hands above the table.

Harry smiled back. “Yeah, it's unforgettable because our first date was at Hog's Head with Earthworm and Tuna sandwich,” he joked, and Hermione laughed. “You know, Hermione, I've been dreaming about having a date with you for a long time…”

“Oh?” she said brightly.

“Yeah, since before Christmas…”

“Oh,” she giggled. “That long ago, huh?” She giggled again. “Actually, I've been wishing you'd go and ask me for a date, too, a long time ago …”

“Really?” he smiled.

“Yes,” she replied, staring down on the table top, blushing. “Since…since our first year…” She gazed back at Harry.

Harry hung his mouth slightly upon hearing what Hermione had said. It meant that she was secretly smitten with him ever since they first knew each other. When Hermione saw Harry's expression on his face, she smiled again at him and blushed even further.

“I - I didn't notice…” Harry said slowly.

“Of course you didn't notice,” she laughed gently, leaning over closer to him. “You're a boy! Always talking about Quidditch…”

“Oh…Oh yeah, th-that's why,” Harry said, laughing. He fell silent when he stared at Hermione's brown eyes. He felt another big tug in his heart.

It's now or never, Harry! he told himself. You can do it!

“You know, Hermione, I've been wanting to tell you this…”

“Yes?”

“…but I hope you won't get mad at me for saying it - that's what's holding me back for ages to tell you…”

Hermione's eyes glowed with expectation of what Harry had wanted to tell her. “Harry, I promise I won't,” she said breathlessly. “Please tell me…”

Harry hesitated for a while, and he looked back at Hermione's eyes. Her eyes gave him strength. “I - I really like you…more than a best friend…”

“Awww…” Hermione said, squeezing Harry's hands tighter. “I like you, too, Harry, very much. Ever since we met in the train, I already have…all these years, I've waited for this moment…”

Harry smiled broadly. “Then you won't get mad at me if I ask you to be my…you know, my girlfriend?”

Hermione then went into a fit of giggles. “Yes!” she said happily. “I - I mean, no - I'm not mad of you for asking - but yes!” She leaned over towards Harry and kissed him on his lips, slightly surprising him but he then sighed deeply as if he was floating on cloud nine. Harry was totally speechless. He felt wonderful - Hermione had finally accepted him after months of wondering how she'd take it.

Harry thanked her profusely, and it felt weird as it was wonderful when Hermione moved her chair beside his, and pressed herself against him. At first he was scared of putting his arm around her shoulder, but Hermione encouraged him to do so by pulling his forearm even tighter around her neck and resting her head under his. Harry was now sure this was now a start of a new romance, and he was now beginning to learn how not to worry too much about doing this.

Marty the bartender had arrived with their orders - two Butterbeers and a couple of Tuna sandwiches. He assured them that it only contained tuna, because if Hagrid knew it had earthworms inside, he'd break his neck

Before Harry could feed Hermione with her sandwich, she frowned upon looking out the window

“Hermione, what is it?” Harry asked and looked out of the window himself.

Henry Seymour and Peter Burton came towards them and said from outside over the window, “Sorry if I disturb your little date for a second, Harry,” he said, “but I need to talk to Hermione the prefect for a while in private, is that okay?”

“Er…” Harry started, but Hermione said, “I'll just beout for a minute, Harry,” she said smiling. “You stay put…” she stood up, kissed him again on his lips, and ran out through the door towards Seymour, who had shifted towards another spot on the sidewalk away from Harry.

Harry couldn't remove the smile on his face just thinking about Hermione as he shook his Butterbeer to froth. Hermione's meeting with Seymour only lasted for a minute, and she walked back inside Hog's Head and sat down beside Harry, placing something inside her robe pocket.

“So what was that all about?” Harry asked her.

“Nothing.”

“Huh?”

“I said nothing!” she said a little forcefully, making Harry jerk back slightly to get a wider view of her. She looked very serious, and it made Harry feel uneasy.

“It's okay to tell, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, “It's only me…”

“Didn't you hear what I just said?” she said irritably. “It's nothing!”

Harry nodded and kept quiet. He was worried his little romance with her was starting to get sour, and he didn't know why.

“Oh, Harry, I'm sorry…”

“No, it's okay,” he lied, looking straightly ahead and gulping his Butterbeer.

“Harry, it's just that…” Hermione tried to explain, but she never got to say what she had to say when they felt their table shaking, and their bottles of Butterbeer edging towards the end of the table because of the vibration.

“Wh-What's happening?” Harry said, staring at his bottle. “Some kind of an earthquake?”

The table shook more violently, and Harry could hear something thundering just west of them. He looked around in confusion with Hermione, and then they heard students starting to scream. Their screams turned into shrieks, and from inside Harry saw the students running away from something in panic. They didn't scatter unlike during a real earthquake, but they seem to have seen something coming from the west that they ran away towards an opposite direction.

The sound of thunder became louder, and it became much clearer by the second that it wasn't the earth that was making it. They more sounded like hooves - a stampede.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started to get out of the pub. “Hermione, I think we got to get out of here,” he said, and Hermione nodded grimly.

Then they saw them.

Black dogs the size of bulls came bearing down towards them. They looked like colossal wolves, but with much larger body mass, red fiery eyes, enormous paws, and multiple sets of sharp fangs. The giant dogs barked deafeningly as they searched for their victims. An unlucky drunkard strayed directly in their path and was trampled to death - a fleeing goblin had been bit whole thrown to the side like a rag doll. There was total pandemonium outside and Harry knew very well not to watch a second too long and get out of the pub or else they will be trapped.

As the dogs came dangerously too close to the Hog's Head for anyone to evacuate, Hagrid shouted, “Harry - Hermione! Don't get out of the door!”

“What're we going to do???” Harry yelled back.

“Get through the back door - right here!” Hagrid pointed towards the kitchen, and Harry pulled Hermione along with him. When they had crossed the doorway, he heard a loud crash coming from the front window - a dog had forced itself inside. Hagrid could not fit in the “tiny” door and prodded Harry to go on without him.

“Don' worry abou' me, go!” Hagrid said when Harry was reluctant to leave him trapped inside the Hog's Head. “Remember they look jus' like puppies to me!”

Harry and Hermione had gone out an empty alleyway between some buildings. Nobody seemed to have strayed into this part of Hogsmeade, though Harry didn't know where the alleyways headed to. They could see at one end some fleeing students and wizards running at a street and followed by the huge dogs. About a hundred feet away, one of the dogs had entered the alleyway right at Harry and Hermione's path ahead! It stared at them for a while and slowly inched towards them, considering them as their next victims. The massive dog literally filled the whole width of the alleyway with its whole body Harry could not see what was behind it. Harry knew its mouth could chew him easily and it was drooling profusely. Then it pounced and sprinted to their direction!

“Run!” Harry yelled, making an about-face along with Hermione. The alleyway looked endless and narrow, and they didn't know if they could clear the other end of it. They ran for their lives; the dog was quickly gaining on them, barking piercingly. Harry looked back, and he saw the dog opened its mouth wide as it closed its distance between Harry and Hermione.

“Turn left! Left!” Harry told Hermione urgently, as he spotted a connecting alleyway up ahead. The huge dog overshot the turn and screeched to a halt, but due to its large body almost as wide as the alleyways, it had a very difficult time turning around at once thus giving Harry and Hermione the opportunity to escape. The new alley ended up in an empty space void of people and dogs at the edge of Hogsmeade. Just ahead of them was the edge of a forest that looked like a good place to hide in.

“Shall we go there?” Harry asked Hermione breathlessly, and she nodded. They ran full out, crawling under a barbed wire fence and hid behind a tree as they reached the edge of the forest. They could hear more screaming the cracks of defensive magic coming from Hogsmeade. They didn't know what was happening at the streets - they saw some students running out of the limits of the village to look for refuge at another forest or the mountains. The dog that chased them had now cleared the out of the alleyway, and sniffed the air for any sign of Harry and Hermione. Then a few more black dogs had joined in. Sniffing collectively now, they knew where they had hidden and thundered towards their direction, snapping the wire fence without feeling pain!

“C'mon, follow me!” Hermione told Harry, and she ran deeper into the forest. Harry followed her, running up and down the roots and around the trees. Harry took a look behind he could see some trees falling like being cut down (the dogs merely smashed themselves unto them). The dogs gave the impression to have no real sense of pain as they plowed through the thick line of trees of ahead of them. Harry knew this wasn't good.

Harry and Hermione had gotten out of a small clearing at the opposite side of the small forest - to the bank of a river of thin ice. If they swam to cross it, the ice might break and they would surely freeze to death. They whipped around and faced the forest again, and the giant dogs - now more than thirty of them, emerged out of the trees and formed themselves in a semi-circle, looked down on Harry and Hermione threateningly, growling, salivating for the chance to pounce. The dogs have covered every escape route Harry and Hermione could see!

They were trapped.

Harry and Hermione took out their wands. Harry didn't know if he was powerful enough to fend off even one of these gigantic dogs in front of him and Hermione. The dogs just stood on their spot, staring down at them wildly, as if they were waiting for something before they moved in for the kill.

Under their legs, several white-robed and masked men had emerged and walked slowly towards Harry and Hermione. They were Death Eaters. Strangely, one of men's robes had blood soaked all over.

Harry pointed his wand at them. If he couldn't handle the dogs, he thought, he could still gallantly fight the Death Eaters before he'd die.

Harry raised his wand to curse them, but Hermione beat him to it.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione bellowed, but it was Harry's wand that flew out of his grasp.

Harry dropped his breath, and looked at Hermione. She had moved back away, pointed her wand at him, her face expressionless, and was ready to curse him if he moved abruptly.

“Hermione…what?” he said incredulously.

Two of the Death Eaters removed their mask and Harry gasped. It was Henry Seymour and Peter Burton. Their faces were filled with triumph.

“At last, the plan had worked,” Seymour said, pointing his wand at an unbelieving Harry, moving over to Hermione, and placing a hand over her shoulder.

“The Dark Lord will be pleased that we have you again at last, Harry Potter. Thanks to Hermione here - she'd been a big help to us ever since.”

-o0o-

Chapter 17 coming soon.

Author's note: Shocked? Confused? Well, I do hope this came as a surprise, though I think some of you had figured this out already ever since, so please tell me how surprising or how predictable this story has been by leaving a review. I really need to know. Thanks!

What made Hermione to betray Harry? How could she do such a treacherous thing? The answers, of course, will come in the next chapters.

Please check the top of this chapter from time to time in order to know when to expect another update. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

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18. The Fortress of Shadows

Update (29 Nov 2004): Sorry if I'm a little slow this time. Lots of work aside from writing! I'm still writing the next chapter. Please allow up to 2 days from now for me to finish the next chapter (it's 6400 words in counting and my preferred average is 9000 words per chapter).

Author's note: Thanks to PottersPrincess, Arun, SEK19005 and LadyBlazey for the reviews! I appreciate your comments and views about the last chapter. Did I say I'll update on Wednesday? (grin).

On with show again!

Chapter 17

The Fortress of Shadows

“I d-don't believe it!!!” Harry roared at Seymour who was standing beside Hermione, patting her shoulder like a master commending a deserving servant. Hermione looked up at him, smiling, and then gazed back at Harry threateningly. The gigantic black dogs kept on staring at Harry as if they were hoping they'd be given the signal to start feasting on him.

Harry refused to accept that Hermione could ever betray him as Seymour had claimed. It was totally preposterous! She was the girl he had made as his best friend, the girl he had trusted on for many years, the girl who made the world a happy place for him to live in - the girl who he had offered his heart just recently. Amid the absurdity of it, she was now undeniably standing there at a small distance from him, pointing her wand, and wearing a look that showed she would curse him immediately if he made a sudden move. It could amount to one thing: she regarded him like an enemy now. Harry's eyes now were drenching in tears - he was extremely hurt with what Hermione had done against him.

“Hermione, please tell me it isn't so, please!!!” he pleaded her. Unfortunately she didn't care to respond.

Seymour laughed. “Yes, I'm afraid it is so, Harry,” he said, looking fondly at Hermione. “Isn't it, my dear?”

Hermione nodded. “It's true, Harry,” she said without any slight hint of remorse. “It's true I helped Henry and all of the Death Eaters in Hogwarts to capture you.”

“No!!!!” Harry yelled. “It's impossible!!!”

Seymour laughed again. “Yes, it is possible. She has proven herself to be an important asset for our mission to hand you back to the Dark Lord. The proof is staring at you right now and yet you're still not convinced, are you?” He then looked at Hermione again and said, “Tell him, my dear. Tell him everything I'm sure will hurt him so. Tell him everything that will make him believe you betrayed him.”

Hermione looked at Harry and turned even more serious. “I gave them vital information about your activities, Harry,” she said. “I told them what you thought about everything that went on at Hogwarts. I told them about what we saw Russelpunk doing back at the Quiddtich stadium and what we suspected of him. My information helped the Death Eaters to think of a better plan to get you out of the protection of Hogwarts - I was the one who casted the spell on the Snitch the day after to lure you away from the school, Harry.”

Harry dropped his jaw a notch and stared at her disbelievingly. But Harry then remembered she had rescued him with Ron and fought off those Death Eaters. She almost got herself killed with the process. It didn't make any sense.

“Go on, tell him,” Seymour encouraged her even more. “Tell him more about what you did…”

Hermione nodded, still looking at Harry with her wand pointed at him. “I was the one who told the Death Eaters about the Order and who their members were. It helped them go after the people I named and made them look like they were fugitives.”

Harry shook his head incredulously again. This was too bad to be true. He observed Hermione talking in a slightly monotone voice, but for the most time she seemed to be talking in her normal way.

“I helped build Henry up for you and Ron,” Hermione went on. “I helped him convince you to trust on him. I played along with him to gain your confidence - I asked him to roll up his sleeve to prove to you that he didn't have the Dark Mark.”

“But I didn't see it…” Harry told her. “His arm was clear!”

“Yes, because he covered it first with a false skin…we made sure it was concealed when I was going to ask about it…”

For added effect, Seymour extended his arm and rolled up his sleeve. His real arm was actually hairy and coarse - the Dark Mark was clearly embedded on his skin. Harry narrowed his eyes on him.

Hermione talked further. “I told Henry our theories about Russelpunk's murder and how we suspected Whipple. I shared to them Ron's hypothesis about why Whipple killed Russelpunk, and because of it Henry gave us his own view about the murder in the lavatory exactly what Ron said to give more validity to it.

“I am and always was in on the plan for what brought you here today, Harry. It's fortunate that you picked the right path for the trap and I didn't have to steer you here myself. That's right, Harry, I helped them with everything…”

“After all these years, how could you just betray me like this?!?” Harry growled. She didn't flinch on his question. Harry glowered at her even more.

The conversation was momentarily interrupted when Burton approached Seymour and he told him, “Boss, the portal will show up any minute. What shall we do with the Dogs?”

“Order them to return to the kennels,” Seymour replied with confidence. “They have done well.”

Burton was taken aback by his order. “But is it wise to do that before going to the Portal, Boss? Perhaps it's better to relieve them only after we…”

“Don't contradict me, Peter!” Seymour shouted. “Do as I say!”

Burton nodded hesitantly and faced the giant dogs, which were rooted on their spot. With a flick of the wand, they all vanished gradually, leaving only Harry, Hermione, and the small group of Death Eaters alone.

Harry didn't know why Seymour made that hasty decision. Free from the added threat of the dogs, Harry scanned the immediate area to try to find a way to escape. Hermione read the look in his eyes and muttered, “Lartigo!” Harry was subjected to a painful spell of electrical shock made by the buzzing rope from her wand. His knees fell to the ground as he shook in pain, and he slumped on the snow almost out of breath.

“Good work, Hermione!” Seymour lauded her. “You're proving yourself to be an increasingly valuable asset as time goes by. Having the brightest witch of your age sure has its big advantages, even though you're just a Mudblood.”

Hermione didn't protest being called a `Mudblood' in any way. This wasn't like her at all, Harry thought.

Seymour then looked at Harry next. “You see, Harry? She now doesn't hesitate hurting you with all kinds of curses in the book - she now serves the Dark Lord!”

“What?!?” Harry exclaimed hoarsely, spitting snow out of his mouth, and looking up at Seymour from the ground as he struggled to fight severe pain throughout his body to stand back up. “Muggle-borns can't serve Voldemort - they're dead before he'll even find them useful. You know, that, Hermione! Don't you? Don't you?”

She didn't answer him, of course.

“Perhaps you weren't listening to the Dark Lord the last time you were together,” Seymour said. “He said he'll make the Muggles and Muggleborns slaves to his reign of terror. Hermione, here, is one of the first ever to have the honor. Yes, Harry, I was there looking down on you in the fortress as you struggled to fight to remove your guilt about causing her supposed death. Isn't it amazing we were mere feet from each other and you didn't know at all? Ah, the joys of being a masked Death Eater!”

Most of the Death Eaters around laughed in agreement.

“We later learned she turned out alive after all,” Seymour said. “She was then the one other choice for recruitment to help us abduct you. But alas, things went wrong with our plans initially. You foiled our attempt to enlist the help of your other friend Ron back in his family's house. Remember the little scuffle you had with our people that night?”

Harry thought about it. The memories of that dangerous night, the incident back in the Burrow when Death Eaters had attacked them, came flooding back in his mind. Harry knew for a fact that the Death Eaters were after Ron that night at the Burrow. Dumbledore had mentioned that Voldemort might have tried to hurt the people closest to him. He had saved Ron from whatever the Death Eaters wanted to do with him then (he thought they were going to kill him), and Hermione…

Harry's heart sank. He looked at Hermione while he thought about it even more deeply. Harry did prevent the Death Eaters from reaching Ron during their last night in the Burrow, but it was possible the Death Eaters had gotten to her first back at the Granger household before they had thought of evacuating her! They might have done something horrific to her then and Harry felt tremendous regret that he failed to protect her that night.

“What did you monsters do to her that night?!?” Harry yelled furiously, glaring at Seymour.

Seymour cackled with glee. “I see you figured it out. We went into her room, woke her up, and gave her a little present from the Dark Lord.”

“What are you talking about?” he breathed.

“Unfortunately, it's a well kept secret, the very thing we gave to her,” Seymour sighed, mocking disappointment. “Only the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters know of it and you don't need to know - not even if you're sure to die in the hands of the Dark Lord after this. But it's safe for me to say it causes us to control the minds of our victims freely and they will obey everything we tell them to do. I'll just leave you guessing right there.”

“You did the Imperius Curse on her!!!” Harry shouted.

Seymour shook his head, laughing. He was fully enjoying the act of tormenting Harry. “That would be difficult to do, keeping her under the influence of the curse constantly with the danger of losing control of her out of our sight, so rest assured we didn't use the Imperius Curse on her. Besides, it might be obsolete now. We have a weapon that's more effective than the Imperius Curse. She did put up a good fight at first, but she was no match for us and succumbed to the power of the serum…”

“The serum?” Harry repeated. Seymour suddenly looked furious with himself for letting that slip out of him. “You gave her a serum! How?”

Burton had joined in the conversation. “We injected here with it, huh, didn't we boss?” he said, guffawing hysterically.

“Shut up, you fool!” Seymour barked at him. Burton flinched, and fell back in silence. “That's not true!”

But for Harry it made some sense. He remembered Hermione grimacing in pain as she stretched her arm when they talked through the fireplace by floo powder. It might have been caused by the serum injected through there. Harry didn't know why he ignored that sign - he should have taken a look at it.

“Enough of this worthless talking!” Seymour shouted, looking red in the face. “He knows too much already! Where's the bloody portal??? It's bloody late!”

Harry ignored what Seymour had said and took another look at Hermione. With Seymour's slip of the tongue Harry now knew she wasn't acting in her own accord. At first he was relieved what he thought about her earlier wasn't entirely true - that she had helped the Death Eaters do all these things against him willingly. Then his feeling of relief was quickly replaced with sadness when he thought about what Hermione might have gone through that night in her house. The very thought that gave him the worst feeling was that he never knew about what happened to Hermione - she was in trouble all the time and he didn't do anything at all to help her. It was like being struck by a burglar at night who took his time to steal everything you had while you were sleeping. They stole Hermione from him, from Ron, and from everybody who loved her. They successfully had kept their possession of her in total secret.

Harry now felt intense fury against Seymour and his gang growing from deep inside him that he would erupt at any moment. Seymour said it himself in front of his face - they had invaded Hermione's home, went into her room while she was sleeping, and injected her with a serum that allowed them to order her around as they pleased. What they did was totally unforgivable. They were going to pay for hurting her. He didn't think of anything else but to kill Seymour with his bare hands. Harry didn't notice it but he had walked a step closer to Seymour - he didn't feel himself shaking and his teeth gritted as he stared on at him. Because of his anger he didn't know his hands were already extended to reach Seymour's neck to break it.

“Immobulus!!!” Hermione bellowed, after she saw Harry starting to lunge at Seymour. Harry stopped dead on his tracks, his body went rigid from the neck down, and he lost his balance, making him fall on to the snow.

Seymour cackled with laughter. “Thank you, Hermione. That'll tell Harry that we're not playing games,” he said. “He knows too much already, but luckily his memory will die with him. The portal will be upon us soon. For the meantime, we need to secure our prisoner for the wonderful trip ahead. You have the honor, my dear…”

Hermione conjured some ropes to bind Harry around his torso. She went over to him, knelt down beside him, and lifted his chin with a finger to look up at her. “Make a brave face, Harry,” she said. “You wouldn't want to look like a scared puppy in front of Lord Voldemort…”

“Hermione, please…let me go…” he implored her. “You're under his spell - you can fight it!”

“You can't do anything about it anymore, Harry,” Seymour said impatiently, hearing what Harry told Hermione. “The serum is permanent - there's no way back for Hermione but to serve the Dark Lord. There's no turning back once you have it running along in your veins.”

“That's a lie!” Harry spat at Seymour, and it only made the Death Eater laugh again.

“Have it your way, then.” Seymour looked around, his smile vanishing. He seemed to have lost interest enjoying the initial triumph of finally having Harry ready for Voldemort. He instead looked increasingly apprehensive.

“The portal's taking so bloody long!” Seymour said, walking a few steps toward the direction of Hogsmeade and gazed at the visible structures peeking out of the forest. “I shouldn't have relieved the dogs yet…”

“See, I told you, Boss,” Burton started, but Seymour lunged at him in sudden fury. He became wild and choked Burton with his bare hands. Some Death Eaters intervened and broke them away.

“How dare you challenge me in front of everyone, Burton!” he shrieked, shaking violently. “You shut up! You shut up! Make Potter stand up while we wait for the portal! Don't you let him go this time!”

Shaking out of fear, Burton obeyed Seymour's order, strode towards Harry, and lifted him to make him stand upright. Then they waited. Harry attempted to talk Hermione out of her spell again, but Burton punched Harry's stomach, venting his own anger at him. Harry wheezed out of breath and fell down on his knees on the snow. “No talking, Potter,” Burton growled.

A little later a strong wind blew and the trees swayed - Seymour's eyes went wide with relief. Harry surmised this was what they were waiting for. Sure enough a red-violet anomaly in midair appeared at the center of the clearing and it hovered down toward the ground. Soon it turned into a shimmering watery portal. Harry could see an image at the center of it - that of a gloomy grey interior of an old castle. He breathed. It was most likely a part of Xanthius, ready to receive him at the other side. It was only more than a month that he was in it. He was lucky that time he had escaped it with Ron and Ginny with Hermione's help. It was completely ironic that it was now Hermione who'd bring him back to the fortress again.

“Wait till it turns misty white and it'll be safe for us to cross,” Seymour reminded everybody. While they waited still, they heard a twang echoing around the forest. Harry thought it was part of the portal reaching its most potent point, but suddenly the Death Eaters around him muttered words in panic. Just a few yards away from the group, Seymour had slumped on the ground and he looked dead. Unfortunately for Harry, he saw him breathing.

It took a few seconds for everyone to make out what was probably happening. One of the Death Eaters had crashed next on the snow like Seymour.

“Take cover!” one of the Death Eaters shouted and they scattered. Someone or something was attacking them from the forest. But who?

A couple more Death Eaters dropped out of action, the rest exchanged curses against the unknown attacker. Burton and Hermione didn't leave Harry though they got ready to fight off the assailant if ever they were the ones left. Another Death Eater fell - they were vulnerable at the center of the clearing while they were being hit from the safety of the trees.

Seymour jolted out to his senses, still laying chest down on the snow, and looked around for Burton. “The Portal is ready! Get in with Potter and the Mudblood and leave us!”

Harry would have wanted to kick Burton's groin to escape as the Death Eater handled him again to push him towards the portal but Hermione's charm still made his muscles stiff. Hermione followed right behind them. The commotion went on wildly while they approached the waiting portal. Harry looked back as he was dragged nearer to it and he could see only one active Death Eater desperately fighting off their unseen enemy. He had been hit at last and there was no one standing left. Harry saw movement out of the trees, and he could recognize the person who was running towards them with his wand out. It was Horace Whipple and it looked like he was trying to prevent Harry from crossing the portal…just a few seconds later Ron and the Weasley twins had emerged out of the trees.

“Hurry up!” Burton yelled, literally throwing Harry inside the portal. Unlike portkeys with all its tugging and pulling, the trip to the other side didn't feel uncomfortable at all for Harry. Shortly he was in a dank room populated by more Death Eaters. He fell down on the damp floor stiffly and painfully. The awaiting Death Eaters held him; ignoring his howls of pain, they dragged him a few feet on the floor away from the portal and settling him at a far corner. Hermione had followed in next; Burton came in a couple of seconds later looking extremely alarmed.

“Cut the portal! Cut the portal!” Burton shouted. Harry saw Whipple and Ron through it. They were still at the other side of the gateway, sprinting towards them in an apparent bid to get in before it disappeared. Unfortunately they had not. Harry's view of the snowy grounds near Hogsmeade had vanished - the portal had closed. Harry felt disappointed and, strangely, relieved that Ron hadn't made it to run after for him. If Ron had succeeded in reaching the portal, he would have been in so much trouble like him and he didn't want that to happen.

Harry looked around the room, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the sudden change of light. He knew he was definitely back in Xanthius. He had been in this room before, he thought. It was the room just at the end of the prison cell wing. Harry had the bad feeling if Voldemort didn't want to murder him at once this was probably the only place he'd be in for the rest of his life to rot.

“What happened?” Lucius Malfoy said as he entered the room. Harry snapped his gaze towards the white haired father of his Hogwarts enemy, Draco. It wasn't at all surprising to know he was here since Harry knew he was a Death Eater, but the most striking fact was that he didn't wear his mask on. It was the first real confirmation for Harry that Lucius was indeed a Death Eater.

“I warned Seymour not to release the dogs when Potter was not secured yet, sir, but he refused to heed me,” Burton replied nervously at him.

“That arrogant imbecile!” Lucius roared. “He almost bungled the plan again, that stupid fool! Where is he now?”

“Someone attacked us while we waited for the portal - he was the first to go down. Out of a dozen Death Eaters back there, I'm the only one who managed to escape with Potter and the Mudblood.”

“Serves him right,” Lucius grunted. He looked around the room. His eyes found Hermione who was standing at an opposite corner of Harry, staring ahead blankly.

“Ah, so this is Seymour's little slave,” he said, smiling. “You did an excellent job, Granger, I heard. Without your help, we wouldn't have gone this far. Too bad you're a Mudblood.” The Death Eaters laughed. He approached her slowly.

“Don't you dare lay a hand on her!” Harry yelled. Lucius returned his gaze at him, and he was very pleased at the sight of Harry helplessly immobile down on the floor at the other corner.

“Oh, I'm sorry I didn't give you my immediate attention, Potter,” he sneered. “Nevertheless, I welcome you back again to my Master's dark abode. Oh, about your friend, don't you worry. I'd never imagine smearing my sterile hands with the filth of this Mudblood, but I don't deny she was a very important asset on our mission to bring you back to Xanthius for the Dark Lord. Unfortunately for us we had no choice by to settle for her when our primary choice was Arthur Weasley's youngest son. It was against our principles using Hermione Granger, but we had to make extreme sacrifices and that is to rely on the services of a Mudblood like her. I'm sure the Dark Lord won't approve of it, but he will be happy he'll have you again just the same.”

Lucius laughed heartily and walked nearer to his Death Eaters. “I'm so happy our mission is over, my faithful people,” he went on, “we have no reason to fear the wrath of the Dark Lord anymore. The aborted attempt at the Quidditch game seemed to be the death of the operation at first, but thanks to my never-say-die attitude, we have pulled through and succeeded. Let us rejoice!”

The Death Eaters cheered loudly and clapped their hands in self applause.

“What amazes me so, Potter,” Lucius said, turning back to Harry, “is that this Mudblood had helped the Death Eaters in Hogwarts all along to ensure you're recaptured and you still show loyalty towards her - was she your best friend before?”

“Yes, and she'll always be, Malfoy!” Harry answered angrily. “I know she'd been injected with some sort of serum to be controlled by your Death Eaters - she doesn't know what she's doing!”

“How did you know about that?” Lucius said at Harry, frowning.

“Your - faithful servant - Seymour had the slip of the tongue - so did Burton here! They told me what they did to Hermione…”

Lucius roared in anger and turned towards Burton. “Is this true, Burton?!?” he yelled.

Burton dropped the smile on his face and shook his head fearfully, and denied what Harry had told him. “No, sir, never have I told him anything about the serum - it was Master Seymour, sir!”

“You bloody incompetent fools! No one outside our circle must know about the serum!!! Did Seymour die at the other side?”

“I-I'm afraid he'd been arrested by Whipple along with our other people…sir. He was totally defenseless when I left him,” Burton whimpered.

Lucius kicked him on his stomach in fury, sending him gasping for air on the floor. Lucius then went into a mad tantrum (the Death Eaters around him all cowered in fear). “Do you realize what'll happen when the Dark Lord will know about this?!?” he roared. “I want you to swear, all of you, not to even mention to him the secret may be out, is that understood? Is that understood?”

All the Death Eaters in the room nodded their head quickly, mumbling incoherently under their masks.

“I'll tell Voldemort when I see him,” Harry said mischievously, making the room fall into silence.

After flinching upon hearing his own master's name, Lucius snapped back, “Don't you dare, Potter! Or I'll kill the Mudblood in a heartbeat!”

Harry's smirk flickered. It was Lucius' turn to simper again.

“I can still see your weakness now,” Lucius pressed on. “You care - you still care for this Mudblood, don't you?”

“We're as good as dead anyway, Malfoy,” Harry answered to try to throw off the subject though deep inside him he didn't want this to happen to Hermione. She didn't deserve to die in the hands of their enemies.

“Don't fret, you'll have your chance soon enough. The Dark Lord will make sure of it this time. He has something hideous in store for you.” Lucius laughed and turned to his Death Eaters. “He doesn't want what happened the last time to happen again - he won't offer you alternatives any more but death. Then he will decide on what to do your Mudblood friend.”

He glanced at Hermione sadly again - she was standing there like a robot with no real inkling of what was going on around her. Harry was scared to think of what might happen to her in the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters after he'd die as Lucius had promised. He must try to give her the chance to escape before he's gone, he thought. But how? They were both alone now, surrounded by their murderous enemies. Someone coming to rescue them looked impossible now. Nobody knew the location of Xanthius at all.

“Throw Potter into a cell whilst we wait for the Dark Lord to return to Xanthius,” Lucius ordered one of his Death Eaters.

The Death Eater obeyed as he was told, grabbed Harry by the arms, dragged him through an open cell, and slammed the door. “What shall we do with the Mudblood, sir?” he asked.

Lucius moved over to the front of Hermione and looked at her. “Stand guard for Harry Potter, my dear,” he told her, smirking. “Curse him if he tries to escape, understood, Mudblood?”

“By your command,” she replied. Lucius and Death Eaters were taking in pleasure calling her by the name “Mudblood” as they pleased.

“Come, we have more work to do,” a satisfied Lucius said to his Death Eaters. Before he went out with everybody, he walked back in front of Harry's cell door to look at him again. Harry was now lying on his side at the dirt floor, breathing heavily, but staring back at Lucius determinedly. “We'll be back for you very soon, Potter. For the meantime, I leave you both alone. Don't try to talk her out of her spell - you'd spend a hundred lifetimes just doing it and all your efforts won't give a dent on the effects of the serum. ”

Harry spat at him, hitting him on his face. Lucius looked furious at first when he wiped Harry's spit from his face and pulled out his wand to curse him. Harry didn't flinch, and they both stared at each other hotly for a moment. Lucius, however, decided not to pursue it, turned on his heel, and slammed the door of the dungeon behind him.

Harry was now alone with Hermione. His locomotor function, which was earlier impeded by the Hermione's Immobulus Curse, was now slowly going back to normal as the curse's effects started to disappear, although it was still painful for him to move his whole body. He fought the stinging sensation of moving his stiff muscles just to do a simple thing as to try to sit up and rest his back against the wall. For the longest time, he succeeded but he swore he wouldn't try to move again until the curse's effect was fully gone. Panting and grimacing in pain, he turned his head slowly to look at Hermione. He could see her standing statuesquely in front of his cell door at the opposite wall. For an hour he stared at her silently (Hermione didn't seem to get tired of standing still for a long time).

Harry couldn't imagine what hell Hermione might be going through all the time. She was doing everything what the Death Eaters ordered her against her will - she might be crying out from inside right now to break out of her bondage. Harry finally wept for her. Here he was, sitting down on the floor for more than hour fighting the severe physical pain he suffered constantly, not having any real clue on how to help Hermione.

He fought off the next wave of tears. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk to her and his words and her heart will do the listening, he thought. Maybe if he tried hard enough it'll break the spell for her. Lucius had told him that he'd just be wasting time talking her out of the serum's spell, but Harry hoped he was only lying to discourage him from attempting to do so. He knew he couldn't permit himself not to try at all. He had to. He could talk on to her forever and die in the process. It didn't matter to him now. He just had to.

“Hermione,” he said softly, slow tears streaming down on his face. “I know you're listening…deep inside I know you're there. I…I don't blame you one bit for bringing me here - not at all. I'm very sorry if I never knew they had you already. I-I'm very sorry if I wasn't there to defend from the Death Eaters in your house that night. Perhaps if I should've insisted more with you to stay with us at the Burrow this wouldn't've happened. I should've read the signs and I could've asked for help from somebody…” Harry paused. He only had started to talk to her, but it hurt him intensely watching Hermione staring on blankly ahead, ignoring him like a stranger that it was hard to keep talking. But he knew he had to die trying. He owed it to her.

Harry sighed and tried to start all over again. “Remember the time when you entered our compartment in the train in our first year?” he said, staring at the ceiling above him. “That was probably the best thing that ever happened in my life: I met you. Of course, I was eleven then and I thought girls were annoying,” he laughed softly, wiping his tears, “but I can't deny after many years we've been together - and all the things we went through together - that…that I was blessed for having you as my very good friend and companion. I can't imagine what my life would've become without you.

“I could never forget the feeling I had during the time you got petrified by that basilisk…the time you fell at the lake because of the Dementors…the time you looked as if you were drowning under the lake…the time the Oarling almost possessed you…remember that? The time I thought I lost you forever with the Dragon that turned out to be Norbert…the time you had the accident in class…the time you had the mysterious fever…each time you fell over when you lost part of your memory. My feeling was always the same; I dreaded every one of them - you were hurting each time. I couldn't stand to see you suffering - It just rips my heart out. I always wanted you to be happy, to feel no pain at all.” Harry gazed at her again.

“Right now, while you're standing there, I know you're hurting deep inside - even if you might not be aware of it, you're in a lot of pain. If you can hear me, Hermione - I know you can hear me…please fight the spell. You must resist it! I know you're strong. Listen, if…I mean, when you break free of it, I want you to escape. Voldemort will not spare your life. You hear me? Forget about me - it's more important if you'd stay alive than me…Voldemort will not go out of his way to seek you out unlike me. He won't care for what will happen to you. What he only wants is me, so escape if you can when you break free. You will break free, I know it. I…I have to tell you this before I'd pass away…please hear me…please hear me with your heart…I love you. I really do! I know you love me, too…you didn't tell me but I know you do. Your eyes showed it back in Hogsmeade…” Harry closed his eyes again and new tears ran down his face. It hurt him deep inside so much to reflect on Hermione back in Hogsmeade holding both his hands and looking very happy in front of him after he asked her to be his girlfriend. It was one, if not the most wonderful moment of his life robbed again by Voldemort and his henchmen. Now she wasn't totally to herself, being ordered around by very evil people. A new wave of fury coursed from him.

He opened his eyes again to see Hermione blurrily through his unwiped tears, moving inches closer towards her as he could. “Please fight the spell!” He growled. “Fight the spell so may escape and live on…”

“Harry,” Hermione spoke at last, and Harry's heart skipped a beat. He stood up and limped towards the cell door, grasping the bars while he looked happily at Hermione, heartened by his apparent progress. He actually didn't know where his speech was going, but it might have done something very positive that Hermione had spoken. She now might be already breaking off the surface, and Harry felt he needed to keep talking to her and he hoped by doing so she'll really regain herself this time. With just a little help from him, maybe he could finally succeed.

“You're doing great, Hermione,” he said encouragingly. “Fight the spell - you can do it! Think of all the people who love you - especially me, cheering you on…we want you back…be strong! Be…”

“Harry,” she repeated, still standing like a statue.

“Yes?”

Hermione gazed at him, turning her head towards him like a living doll. “Shut up and go to sleep,” she told him dispassionately.

Harry was taken aback by Hermione's uncaring statement and he scowled. Lucius might have been telling him the truth, but he couldn't think about it further. He howled in intense pain as his scar on his forehead burned fiercely. He slid down the bars of his cell door towards the floor. He hanged on to the cross bars while the pain lingered on for more than a minute, and he strangely felt very pleased with something at once.

When the pain began to ebb away and he could think again, Harry had understood what this might have meant. Voldemort was already in Xanthius, and the Dark Lord had learned just now that he, Harry, was already here for him. It was only a matter of time when he'd meet him face to face again.

It took a few more minutes when Harry heard the main door to the prison cells open, and several Death Eaters strode towards him. Harry stood up from his spot. The effects of Hermione's curse were already gone, and he could freely move all his muscles without resistance and pain.

“The Dark Lord demands your presence now, Potter,” one of them said. Harry just looked at him in silence.

His cell door swung open; the Death Eaters didn't bind him this time, they just secured him by pointing their wands at him.

“Bring the Mudblood along for the meeting,” said the Death Eater to the other closest to him.

Harry was led forward, constantly being prodded by the Death Eater's wand tip. He glanced towards Hermione, and he saw that she walked casually just a few feet behind him. Harry's eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to know what will happen to her if Voldemort killed him first, and he didn't want her to be murdered by him either. Harry wasn't worried for himself but for Hermione now. He could run and bring her along if he wanted to, but he knew it was stupid to do so for now - she was still possessed by the Death Eaters and she'd only stop him on his tracks. Only, if only she regained total control of herself maybe there was a chance to save her.

The path they took was familiar for Harry as they walked further. He could still remember vividly the hallway they were in now when he, Ron, and Ginny were forced forward once before. This was the exact path towards Voldemort's throne room. Harry straightened himself upright. He refused to look frail even for once in front of Voldemort. He made it a point to face him with dignity until death. He didn't want him to enjoy too much seeing him helplessly resigned to his fate. Soon, they were facing the large oak doors leading to the throne room, and it opened.

The last time Harry saw this room was only a couple of months ago, and it was full of debris of the stone ceiling that fell to the floor, which the former Hogwarts Headboy and aspiring Death Eater Jack Chadron had caused to give Harry, Ron, and Ginny the chance to escape from Voldemort. Now, it was golden new.

At the end of the large hall that was Voldemort's throne platform was the Dark Lord himself. He stood in front of a dozen hooded figures bowed down low the floor, facing him. Several other Death Eaters also stood in a straight line at both sides of his throne. There were other people in the room, too - about more than ten of them, mostly women. Harry didn't know who they were but they didn't look like Death Eaters and they stood motionless at an angle facing the throne.

As Harry was led nearer to the throne platform, Voldemort roared and killed one of the Death Eaters bowed down at his feet with a Killing Curse. Harry didn't know why he did that, but Voldemort looked very angry with something. The eleven remaining Death Eaters shook and inched their way farther from him out of fear of being next.

“That will be the fate of the servant who fails me!” he growled. “All of you have let the important prisoners escape!!! Because of your stupidity I'm left with only a meager supply of the serum! Go down to the dungeons to recapture them, or you suffer the same fate as your worthless colleague!”

“B-But, my Lord,” said one of the Death Eaters, “Several of my men have died trying to break through the dungeons! The prisoners have turned themselves into guerrillas, and they're quite effective!”

Bright green light made by Voldemort flashed towards him, snuffing out his life in an instant. The ten Death Eaters who were left alive broke down on the floor and wailed in trepidation.

Harry didn't know what they were up to, but from what he had heard, they had prisoners who had managed to escape and where holding out somewhere in the dungeons.

“Die trying, or you die in the hands of your Dark Lord!” Voldemort shouted. “I demand that you'll show me success within three hours, or else! Cassius Wallace, assign more Death Eaters to help these fools!”

He waved his wand to the side door, and the Death Eaters scurried off towards it like wet kittens. Wallace herded them and led the way to the door. However, he looked particularly interested of Harry and Hermione - he snatched glances at them as he stepped out of the throne room with the Death Eaters.

Voldemort then turned his attention to Harry just as he went near enough of him.

“Welcome back, Harry Potter,” he sneered. “I haven't seen you in two months but I'm glad you dropped by in this special day of mine.”

Lucius laughed, and was followed by the rest of the Death Eaters present in the throne room.

“Thank you, my servants. That was indeed funny. As I was saying, Harry, you're just in time for what will become a very glorious event in the history of wizardry. Do you want to know what it is?”

Harry didn't say anything, and stared at Voldemort determinedly with gritted teeth.

“Very well, as I see you - pleading - to know what I'm referring to, take a look behind you…it is time to announce to the whole wizard world the return of Lord Voldemort.” Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry and forced him to turn around.

“Witness the terror that is Xanthius and Lord Voldemort, Harry!” he proclaimed.

At the center of the throne room appeared a window showing a snowy and pristine Scottish landscape. Soon, however, the sky around it gradually blackened - dark clouds with streaks of lightning enveloped the white sky rendering the landscape with a terrifying and gloomy hue. On top of the horizon emerged a large structure from the ground up, quaking the ground around it, and Harry felt the tremor under his feet.

Harry recognized the structure in the window as the Xanthius. He could never mistake the tallest tower that was the most prominent feature of the fortress. He had seen it before, and he had even been on top of it before. As soon as the fortress had settled on top of a high mountain, the view in the window shifted next to panic stricken wizards and witches - Harry didn't know who these people were, but they could see Xanthius from where they were. The wizards and witches were screaming and pointing towards what Harry knew was the fortress. They were running away, trying to make more distance from it but that act probably never made any difference. Voldemort had made known his existence for all to see. Xanthius, the Dark Fortress, has started to cast its long shadow on the wizard world.

The next view was of Hogwarts at the foreground and with Xanthius at a distance. There was activity on the grounds of the school, Harry had noticed. All the students and teachers were back from Hogsmeade and have gone out of the castle to take a look of the Dark Fortress far away in the horizon. It was a symbolic view of what was to come: a preview of the new War. Voldemort's Death Eaters cheered.

“Everywhere in Britain can see the dark clouds of Xanthius however far a place it may be,” Voldemort said with pleasure. “They now know that I have returned. I have come back to power! I have gathered all my forces - the dark forces in the wizard world. The vampires, the giants, the imps, the Oarlings, Werewolves and all the creatures you can think of. They have pledged support to my dream of wizard world domination! Anyone who resists will die. Anyone who fights Lord Voldemort will breathe their last. Tremble, all of you, in the wizard world. Shudder under the might of Lord Voldemort!”

Voldemort's laugh echoed around the throne room, and possibly it had emanated throughout the wizard world.

Lucius moved forward. “Shall we now begin your reign of terror, my Lord?”

“Without further adieu, Lucius,” he replied. “All Death Eaters will now have no fear of prosecution from the puny Ministry of Magic, let it be known. Power is now in our hands. The Ministry of Magic shall now be the ones who'll cower in fear - they shall now be the ones who'll hide from us!”

“Marvelous, my Lord,” Lucius laughed and began sending off some Death Eaters to begin operations. “Our men will be overjoyed. Do you wish to supervise our first terror attacks?”

“I have all the time in the world now, Lucius,” Voldemort said confidently. “I will let you know when I'll participate. You have done extremely well, and you will be rewarded for it. For the meantime, I have unfinished business to take care of. Stay with me, Lucius.”

Harry turned around to face Voldemort again, knowing it was he who he was referring to.

“Isn't it wonderful, Harry,” Voldemort said, “that the last thing you'll ever remember before you die would be the beginning of the fall of your allies and the rise of Lord Voldemort?”

“If you want to kill me, get it over with Voldemort!” Harry shouted. “You don't want me - escaping - again, do you?”

Voldemort laughed. “I don't see how you can, Harry. Escaping from me is impossible now. I don't see you have any more hope for that, but it's very nice to know you're still wishing to live longer after today. It makes it even more fun for us to see you fight for your life than being merely resigned to your fate. I'll make sure you won't survive this day. This calls for a celebration. Meanwhile, let's have some entertainment - where's the Mudblood who helped brought Potter to us? Ah…”

Lucius beckoned Hermione to stand in front of Voldemort. She walked to the center and bowed in front of him.

“I despise Mudbloods,” Voldemort said, “but with our secret weapon they do prove to be useful as slaves. That is until they prove their usefulness to me and after that they will die. Look around at your left, Harry…”

Harry gazed to his left where a few witches and wizards were standing stiffly.

“They're Mudbloods, too, like your pretty friend here. What's her name?”

Sensing that Harry didn't want to answer Voldemort, Lucius said, “Her name is Hermione Granger - said to be the brightest witch in Potter's class, and perhaps of her age, my Lord.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Voldemort acknowledged. He then shook his head in disappointment. “What a pity it is. For in the history of wizardry because of what the three other founding fathers of Hogwarts' did - their ill-conceived policy of teaching magic to Mudbloods made Purebloods lesser beings and looking lousy with what was supposed to be inherently theirs. Purebloods must regain their rightful place in the magical arts, which was trampled on by a horde of Mudbloods. I promise everyone I will build up a wizard world free of their dominance. I will seek and destroy every Mudblood and Half Bloods in our society and lift all the Purebloods up. But for now, I will use the Mudbloods. Yes, I will use them - the best of the Mudblood lot, and they will work for me to purge their own kind until their skins are rubbed raw. Then they will die!”

The room rang with hysterical laughter from the Death Eaters.

“These, Harry,” Voldemort said, pointing at the witches and wizards on the side, “are among the best of the Mudblood crop. Since you will die in a little while, It won't matter to tell you they have been injected with my serum that will obey my every command - even if I order them to kill themselves they will do it for me at once. As we speak, my scientists are working day in and day out reproducing the serum. In a month I will have enough and even more to spare to inject everyone with the serum. Even the spells and curses they have not learned, they will be able to cast it.

“There is no cure for it. It's even better than the Imperius Curse! Once it runs in their veins, it's permanent. The only thing they will wish for is death. Would you like to see a demonstration?”

Harry stared at Voldemort.

“Hermione,” Voldemort said, “do the Cruciatus curse on your friend, Harry Potter.”

Hermione whipped around without question, pointed her wand at Harry, and bellowed, “Crucio!”

Harry screamed in extreme pain with Hermione's curse and he fell down on the floor in an instant.

“Longer! Longer!” Voldemort laughed. “Show him that you obey only to your Dark Lord!”

Harry didn't know how long he could take it. His scream echoed throughout the throne room amid the laughter of the Death Eaters.

“Laugh along with us, Hermione!” Voldemort told her, and she obeyed. The sound of Hermione's laughter was even more torturous for Harry than the curse itself. Hermione would never enjoy seeing him in great pain, not even doing it on him.

“That's enough for now,” Voldemort said after a moment when Harry was almost on the brink of death, and the pain stopped. Harry breathed heavily while he was still slumped on the cold stone floor, barely recovering from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

“See, Harry?” Voldemort said. “See what our serum can do? We can rule the wizard world without even muttering a single spell - but I know that will be boring for us. We'll sometimes do our work ourselves. We do miss torturing anyone if we just leave all the work to our slaves. Which, I think, I now have the appetite for a good round of cursing. The Dark Lord does need to have fun once in a while.”

Lucius laughed at Voldemort's words knowingly. He walked towards Harry, knelt down on one knee beside him, and forced Harry's head to watch what was about to happen.

Voldemort stepped down from his dais and said, “Now let's see how the best and brightest Mudblood in Hogwarts could fare against Lord Voldemort, the Pureblood.

“Vox Domini!” Voldemort muttered, making sure Hermione could hear it.

“Yes, Mister Seymour, I…” Hermione said at first but paused when her view of the world had abruptly changed. She looked confused while she looked around her. She saw Harry on the floor whose head was being held by Lucius. Her eyes went round at the sight of it along with the row of Death Eaters at the flanks and her breathing became choppy. “Harry…what's happening? Ugh…”

Hermione didn't understand why she couldn't control her body anymore. It seemed it was turning around slowly on its own, even when she tried to counteract it. Soon she saw the most ghastly face she had ever seen, her getting big, round and fearful at the sight of it. She didn't know who it was she was looking at first, but she quickly remembered Harry describe the same face she was seeing now at one point in time. Harry had told her then the face of Voldemort. Realizing that it was the Dark Lord in front of her, she screamed.

“Hello, Hermione. Isn't it sweet to see the face of your master for the first time?” Voldemort sneered at her.

“Y-you're Voldermort!” she said, her breathing irregular.

The Death Eaters flinched upon hearing their master's name, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes on Hermione.

“How dare you speak my name, Mudblood!” he roared, sending Hermione back a step. “I am Lord Voldemort, and my name brings dread to everyone! This Mudblood shows arrogance in front of me by not showing fear in saying my name. You, Mudblood, will be taught the fear of Lord Voldemort. You will now duel with me. Bow to me…”

Voldemort forced Hermione into a bow, which she couldn't resist.

Before Voldemort could release his control on her, Harry yelled, “Hermione, look out!”

Voldemort pounced. “Crucio!”

Hermione shrieked in intense agony. It was pain that she had never experienced before in her life. It was pain for her that she wished she were dead. Harry screamed along with her, making Lucius laugh at their torment. Hermione dropped her wand and soon she fell along with it on the floor. Voldemort cut the curse in less than fifteen seconds but it was enough to leave her breathing excruciatingly as she slumped on the floor, still suffering the lingering effects of curse. The Death Eaters laughed along with Voldemort.

“Stand up, my dear,” Voldemort said to her. “You can be quicker than me.”

Hermione groaned in pain. She didn't want to face Voldemort further in fear of experiencing the awful Cruciatus Curse again, but she knew she had no choice but to fight Voldemort and she had no other way out. Grunting, she lifted herself up with her hands on the floor and crawled on all fours towards her wand. Grasping it, she stood up shakily and focused on him, fighting the soreness of her joints and muscles. Wand shaking, she pointed it to Voldemort. “Expel…”

“Repulso!” Voldemort muttered before she could say the last syllable of her spell. A jet of red light whooshed out of Voldemort's wand and hit her squarely on the chest, sending her backwards and back down on to the floor.

“Stop it! Stop it!” Harry yelled, but his pleas were only answered by more laughter. He shook off Lucius' grip and gazed at Hermione, who looked spent already. Their eyes met, but she didn't say anything at all. Hermione's breathing was choppy and uneven. She was shaking; even though she had only suffered two curses from Voldemort, the look on her face drew signs of inevitable defeat. Harry knew they were no match against Voldemort even if he and Hermione joined forces to fight him. There were tears now streaming down on her cheeks, but yet she looked determined to fight on, refusing to give up so easily.

She managed to stand up again this time, but Voldemort didn't give her any more chance to posture. “Expelliarmus!” Voldemort bellowed, and Hermione was stripped of her wand. Hermione stood defenseless; Voldemort walked closer towards her casually and gave her another round of the Cruciatus Curse. This spell lasted for almost a minute that Hermione was screaming her voice hoarse. Harry cried out for her, but he could do nothing to help her.

“Pathetic performance from the so-called brightest witch,” Voldemort sneered as he let go of the curse. “Is this what Hogwarts has to offer? This proves Mudbloods don't deserve to study magic.”

Lucius enjoyed hearing Voldemort's last comment.

Voldemort left Hermione sprawled on the cold floor to catch her almost non-existent breathing, and walking back to his platform. She wasn't moving at all due to intense pain she agonized with that almost rendered her immobile.

A few Death Eaters moved to force her to stand up, but Voldemort stopped them. “Leave her to savor the soothing effects of my curse,” he said. “She will return to our ranks later - after we watch Harry Potter die under Nagini. Harry Potter has lived long enough in my presence.”

Harry was lifted up on his feet, dragged to the center of the throne room, and left alone there. Death Eaters then surrounded him in a wide rectangular pattern with Voldemort joining them and positioning himself in the head of the rectangle. He looked around for Hermione. She was still down on the floor, just behind the wall of Death Eaters. She made every effort to lift her head up to look back at Harry; her face showed real sadness and worry for him. Her mouth moved, muttering his name - she slowly extended her hand towards him, even though the distance between them made it impossible for her to reach him.

“Hermione…” Harry said softly under his breath and he sadly reached his hand for her in midair - one of the Death Eaters forced Harry's hand down with magic.

“I have had enough of your exploits, Harry Potter,” he said. “I have lost interest in your death in my own hands. I have prepared a better way for you to die. After this, I shall announce to the wizard world that the Boy Who Lived is dead and is being digested in the stomach of my faithful pet, Nagini. The last symbol of the wizard world of Lord Voldemort's defeat will cease to exist.”

Knowing what he was in for this time, Harry frantically looked for a way out and backed up a bit but quite a few Death Eaters controlled his footing and made him walk back to the center. The floor beneath him opened quickly in half like a trapdoor, and he fell more than twenty feet down to the underground below. If the ground wasn't soft and a little soggy he would've broken his legs. He stood back up with difficulty due to the muddy ground on which he stood and he looked up at the Death Eaters looking back down at him. Then he heard hissing behind him. He turned around slowly, and there was Nagini crawling out of his hole from the wall, his sharp fangs glinting menacingly in the gloomy pit.

The Death Eaters laughed heartily again, enjoying the spectacle down at the pit. Harry backed up further while Nagini advanced slowly towards him. The snake hissed once more and got ready to pounce on his delicious prey. Harry glanced around to look for somewhere to escape, but only saw four dirt walls and nothing to hide in. There was nothing to use for cover and to fight the giant snake. Without his wand, Harry was defenseless. His endurance was the only thing that stood between him and inevitable death.

-o0o-

Chapter 18 coming soon.

Author's notes: Sorry for giving you another cliffhanger, if you call it that. But I have to end the chapter here because we'd be having a 15,000-word chapter if I wrote on. (grin). There's still a lot to write after the last word of this chapter and would be a problem to find a good place to stop for the next chapter. So please bear with me, and yeah, you can call me “evil”. (laughing like Voldemort).

I know! I gave Harry and Hermione too much suffering in this chapter. Sometimes when I wrote this chapter, I felt real bad for my favorite heroes. Anyway it's how the story goes…(shrug).

As always, thanks for reading this story. I hope you, uhm…enjoyed it. Please kindly leave comments and views of this chapter by leaving a review. Criticism is welcome, too. Thanks in advance!

You may want to check on top of this chapter from time to time. I'll leave a message when I think I'll post the next chapter.

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19. The Underground

Update December 5, 2004: I'm asking for a little more time to finish the 19th chapter. As of the moment I'm not quite happy how it's turning out (aside from juggling time with work) - it's proving to be a little more difficult to write than I've imagined since it will most likely contain the climax of the story (I'm working hard not to disappoint). I'll be redoing some entries before moving on further as I explore for some better ideas while sticking closely to the general outline. The next chapter may be significantly longer than average and I might choose to go beyond the 9000-10,000 word cap if circumstances warrant. I'll make my best effort to finish #19 asap! As always, I thank you for your continued interest with this story!

Announcement: due to some serious problems with Fanfiction.net (what else is new?) and some requests from readers, the prequel of Shadow of the Dark Fortress Part 1 and 2 titled “The Auror and the Oarling” will be posted in Portkey in its entirety. You might want to check it out while waiting for Chapter 19. Thanks!

Author's note: Sorry about the delay, folks! Been very busy with work, and the only time I found to do this chapter was late at night even when my brain was buzzing. But I didn't want to keep you waiting. I hope that it didn't affect the composition of this chapter negatively. Please let me know what you think.

Of course, thanks very much to SEK19005, PottersPrincess, and LadyBlazey for their morale boosting comments! I'm glad you find the story interesting!

Okay, now, let's roll the film! Lights off please…

Chapter 18

The Underground

Harry watched Nagini slither threateningly closer to him at the pit, its eyes brightened by the sight of his new prey. The Death Eaters on the upper floor above him were extremely amused at the show. Harry didn't know if he was fast enough to evade the snake's deadly strike - he didn't even know how he could survive this encounter at all. The only thing he hoped for was to find a way to get out of this pit and to tire Nagini into frustration that it would just leave him alone, but Harry knew that was wishful thinking to the max. Unless help arrived soon, he was a goner.

Harry had backed himself up on the wall behind him and Nagini struck instantly! Harry had fast reflexes - he made himself fall down sideward to the floor to dodge Nagini just in time his fangs had come within mere inches on him. The snake hissed in pain as its nose smacked the dirt wall forcefully on top of Harry - it backed up and straightened itself high to prepare for another strike.

Harry had crawled away from Nagini and he ran behind his back as far away as he can towards the opposite wall where the snake's hole was. Looking back at it for a second, Harry considered getting in but quickly decided against because he'd be definitely fenced in. He knew the pit was the best place to dodge the snake because it was a significantly larger area with more room to maneuver.

He was only a couple of minutes into the encounter and Harry had started to pant - he determinedly looked on at the snake to predict when he'd strike next, not daring to allow himself get off guard. The Death Eaters above laughed with extreme enjoyment.

“This has got to be a new record, my Lord,” Lucius guffawed. “Potter had outlived every known dinner of Nagini for more than twenty seconds!”

“We'll see if he'll live another twenty, Lucius,” Voldemort sneered. “Whatever he does, he's doomed.”

Harry didn't care to listen in on their conversation - he was too busy anticipating Nagini's next move. His life depended on this. He had backed himself another time at a wall and he prepared himself for another strike from the snake, but it didn't come as fast as he expected.

Knowing that striking Harry while he was backed against the wall would hurt again, Nigini feinted and Harry fell for it. Harry had fallen on the ground in purpose to dodge another blow, but as he was falling the snake stopped halfway and waited for Harry to get into his most vulnerable before hitting him. When Harry landed on the ground Nagini positioned for another strike! Fortunately Harry saw his mistake immediately that he used his remaining momentum to do a forward roll to move further away. Nagini pounded the floor where Harry's foot was a split second earlier, sending dirt flying around. Harry's hair literally stood on end when he felt how close Nagini had caught him.

“Whoa!” laughed some of the Death Eaters and they clapped their hands with the spectacle.

“Impressive,” Voldemort muttered. “But he won't last long…”

Harry had narrowly escaped again, running behind the snake to prepare himself for another blow. His breath was getting heavier, now gradually affecting his concentration in a negative way. Nagini hissed with growing frustration - he slithered slowly to advance again with his eyes locked on his prey below. Harry knew he was running out of moves - his legs were getting tired, a stitch was growing at his side, his vision getting more blurry, and his endurance fading. One wrong move in his part and it will be over for him.

Nagini didn't wait for Harry to back up to the wall again and swooped down on him. Harry was startled that he fell to the ground on his back involuntarily and this time one of Nagini's fangs had ripped a hole on his robe! As Nagini pulled back, Harry was pulled with him. Fighting to free himself from being bitten further, Harry smacked Nagini with his fists, kicking as much as he could. First Nagini didn't feel any pain, but when Harry's foot had hit one of his eyes he flailed back in pain, throwing Harry to the air and towards the center of the pit solidly, ripping a long segment of his robes. Harry landed on the ground in pain and he felt as if he had broken all the bones in his body. He tried to stand up, but the initial pain of being slammed on the floor was too much for him to ignore. At the same time, Nagini was preoccupied with his own painful eyes at the other end of the pit - he slithered violently around to try to shake off the agony.

Harry thought that was his last hurrah and Nagini wouldn't be as forgiving the next time. Too hurt to move, but determined to live on longer even for just for a few more seconds and not giving up a courageous fight, he crawled slowly towards the snake's hole. If he died today right now, he didn't want to give the Death Eaters and Voldemort the pleasure to see how Nagini consumed him.

Nagini, who had gone through his misery already, probably preferred not to give Harry what he wanted. He rounded on Harry, blocking the path to the hole. Harry looked up towards the towering Nagini in front of him, his teeth gritted. This was the end of it, Harry thought while he stared at the snake's monstrous eyes. One of Nagini's eyes was bleeding, probably even blinded by the injury, and it satisfied Harry immensely - before he'd die, he was sure he had given a good flight. He further made sure he won't die wearing a frightened face.

“Now, you've reached your last, Harry Potter!” Voldemort laughed and screamed. “Kill him now, Nagini…wha???”

Harry heard a heavy thump somewhere. He didn't know what made it. Nagini looked around, and he hissed loudly when he looked at his side opposite Harry.

“It's the Mudblood!” shouted Lucius, pointing to the pit. “She fell down!”

Harry heart skipped a beat. Hermione had thrown herself down to the pit apparently help him! He didn't know what good it would do for Hermione to join in the scuffle, however.

“H-Hermione! What're you doing?” Harry shouted.

“I-I want to die with you,” she replied from the other side of Nagini.

“What?”

Hermione grunted in pain when she stood up slowly from the ground to face the snake. Her sudden appearance did something good at the outset: Nagini didn't know who to eat first, Harry or Hermione. It made the snake initially confused, and maybe together they had a chance to escape from the snake - if they had enough time to think of something.

“Take Potter, you imbecile!” Voldemort barked at Nagini, but the snake decided Hermione posed more of a threat to him than the beat-up Harry so he concentrated on her this time. He'd take care of her first before he'd start munching on his prey.

Harry knew this was not turning out good already because Hermione was now in mortal danger. Though he was grateful with Hermione's show of sacrifice and solidarity for him, he initially wished Nagini would have not spent time drooling over his dinner and Hermione wouldn't have joined in. Now the last thing Harry would have thought of before he died was whatever would have happened to Hermione after this.

Some Death Eaters tried to intervene by throwing curses down to Hermione, but they often hit the swaying Nagini instead who blocked their view of her, rocking the snake as it absorbed the hit. Their curses had no effect on him, but Voldemort roared in anger, cursing and shouting at the Death Eaters who acted without orders.

“Cease fire, you idiots!” Voldemort shouted, sending his own curse at some of them, which knocked them off their feet. “You're breaking Nagini's concentration! He can handle the Mudblood and Potter himself!” He looked down at Nagini and he said “Nagini, kill the Mudblood if you want, she's yours! I have no use for her now!”

Nagini towered on Hermione and shadowed her while she backed up slowly towards the wall behind her, much like Harry had done before. Harry knew Nagini won't allow himself to fall into the trick this time and he would strike Hermione very soon. So, in an attempt to take away the snake's attention on Hermione, Harry fought the pain and soreness of his body to stand up, run towards the back of the snake, leap with all his might, and cling on Nagini's back as tightly as he can. Once he stuck on Nagini, Harry didn't mind how ridiculous it looked - and how gross it was - by biting the humongous snake's skin next with his teeth.

Nagini felt the nip behind his back and flailed wildly. Harry was like an annoying insect that was stinging him from behind and the pesky insect needed to be quashed. Harry held on to Nagini with his hands, arms, and to some extent, his teeth as tightly as he could - Nagini couldn't shake him off no matter hard he tried. Feeling that the snake had stopped flailing, Harry opened his eyes. He saw Nagini staring down at him angrily, his hissing tongue just inches away from Harry's. Harry gulped - he knew what would happen next. In a split second, the snake pounced to bite him off, but Harry had let himself go already, falling back down on the ground again, and rolling to cushion the impact of his own landing.

Instead of biting Harry, Nagini had gnawed at himself! Blood spurted out of Nagini's punctured body, and the snake hissed loudly in extreme agony out of his own doing. Harry took the opportunity to reunite with Hermione, who had her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide as she watched Nagini flap wildly on the ground in front of her as if the pain would kill him.

Voldemort roared in fury. “You fiends!” he yelled. “Look what you have done with my Nagini! I will now kill you two myself even with my own bare hands!” He started sending his own curses down towards Harry and Hermione. Harry didn't wait to watch the fireworks coming from above. He grabbed Hermione, spun her around, and stuffed her inside the snake's hole. Dodging the curses successfully, Harry had followed right behind her next.

Harry and Hermione had gotten in the snake hole unscathed from Voldemort's curses. They both looked out of the hole, seeing the last remaining curses from Voldemort bounce harmlessly at the foot of it. It was dark inside, and the only light they could see was coming from the pit, and it was gloomy enough to begin with. They could hear Voldemort's furious tirade from outside.

“Get into the pit and pull them out of there!” Lucius barked.

“Th-They're coming!” Hermione whimpered.

Harry knew what he and Hermione were in for. With nowhere to go now, they were trapped and will surely be captured once again; they didn't know how they'll get away this time. They both heard the thumps of many pairs of feet as they landed on the pit outside, and they could see the Death Eaters' feet scuttling towards them. Devoid of his wand, Harry braced himself for a violent encounter with them.

Hermione gasped, as if she suddenly realized something.

“Harry, move back!” Hermione told him and she pulled him further away from the hole. For Harry, it was probably Hermione's last vain attempt to create more distance from the Death Eater's who'd surely be upon them in seconds. Hermione, however, had other desperate measures in her mind.

Hermione took out a wand from her robe pocket and aimed it to the top of the hole.

“Bombardia!” she yelled. Like a huge artillery round coming out of a cannon, the spell hit the wall on top of the hole and created a cascade of heavy soil and rocks, blocking the passageway completely. Harry covered his head, expecting to be swamped with loose soil from the ceiling, but nothing happened.

A few seconds passed after the last of the earth and rocks fell down. It was pitch dark already inside the snake's hole. They had trapped themselves in it.

“Harry, you okay?” Hermione asked him urgently in the dark. Her voice was shaking, and Harry could tell the pain she still felt with the sound of it.

“For now, yeah,” Harry breathed. “Thanks for saving me, but now what do we do?”

“Lumos!” Hermione muttered, and the wand she held gave them a source of light, though it was a little dimmer than usual. “Hey, that's strange - Oh, I think that explains it…I don't know whose wand is this in my pocket, because I'm positive I lost mine out there when Voldermort…” she trailed off and then wept completely, collapsing slowly to the floor. Harry could see her shaking from the dim wand light.

“Hey, hey,” Harry said softly, coming over to Hermione, hugging her, and letting her cry on his shoulder.

“H-Harry - did I miss something?” she cried, looking up at Harry. “I don't know what h-happened. We were in Hogsmeade, and the next thing I saw was you on the floor and…and t-then I recognized him immediately!!! I-It was V-Voldemort!!! That was really him, wasn't he???”

“There, there…It's okay to cry. I know how frightful it is for you to face Voldemort like that…”

“H-Harry, I didn't know he was that so scary!!!” she screamed. “He was going to m-murder me…and I couldn't seem to f-fight him!” She bawled again in extreme fright.

“But you were really brave out there, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “Others would have given up without a fight…”

“Harry, p-please tell me…where are we? Why're we here? Why?!? H-He was so scary - he was so scary…”

Harry exhaled heavily. Seeing Hermione hadn't gotten over with her shock meeting and facing Voldemort so abruptly yet, he didn't know how to answer. He opted to keep quiet at this time and comfort her, hoping that she'll gradually calm down soon. Telling her the truth how they got here would be bad for now, since it was Hermione who in fact helped the Death Eaters bring Harry back directly to Xanthius even if she was under their control. She won't be able to accept that at once, and it might just aggravate her grief even more. There was a time for that, and this wasn't it. Harry let her cry for a long time - it was the only way she could calm herself down relatively.

“I promise to tell you in another time,” Harry vowed later while stroking her hair when Hermione's cry seem to have subsided. She nodded in response, even though her breathing was still choppy. “But I'm glad you're back…”

“Wh-What do you mean?” she sobbed.

“We must now find a way how to get out of here first,” Harry said, ignoring her question.

“I-I think I'm okay now,” she said, “but I can't still get Voldemort out of my mind…he's so scary…just scary…”

Harry nodded his head, understanding what Hermione was feeling. “You'll get over it, I know you're strong - you always are…” He hugged her tighter and gently let her go to pick up his wand, which was still lit on the ground.

“Hey, this is my wand!” Harry said, goggling at it after he felt its handle. He recalled Hermione disarming him back at Hogsmeade, and while she lost hers during her confrontation with Voldemort, she had Harry's wand in her pocket all the time, which was a very fortunate thing.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice still quivering. “H-how did that get in my pocket?”

“Yes, it's mine. But, uhm, I'll explain later. But first…Nox!” Harry muttered. The light on his wand died. He planned to redo the Lumos charm on his own wand to get the most light out of it. However, the light rippling on the walls of Nagini's chamber caught his attention after his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Puzzled, he said, “Hermione, what do you think it is?”

“L-looks like light reflected from some body of water!” she sniffed, looking around. “There might be a hole somewhere around here…”

“Lumos!” Harry muttered. He scanned the more intense wand light around the walls and ceiling, trying to find the hole Hermione suggested. At last, just a few feet ahead of them on the wall opposite the collapsed hole leading to the pit, Harry's wand light had extended. It looked really like a hole, a tunnel to be more exact, and it was wide enough to accommodate Nagini. Harry moved over toward it, and he could hear water flowing like a river at the other side, and smelling fresher air coming in.

“I think we're in luck!” Harry said, heartened by the discovery. “This could be our way out of here…I hope. Let's go?”

Hermione nodded, trying hard to regain herself. Harry reached for Hermione's hand and they both entered the tunnel at a crouch. It looked very long, uneven, and winding. Careful not to slip (the surface was damp), they slowly moved forward. Further down the tunnel went; they could now hear the sound of flowing water getting louder as they advanced. Soon, they could feel cooler air gushing in to them. They emerged out of the other end of the tunnel and they ended up on a narrow ledge at the edge of what seemed to be a low cliff in a fully enclosed cavern. A rampaging underground river flowed not more than thirty feet beneath them. The cavern had its own eerie light illuminating the whole area, and they didn't know where it came from.

“Nox!” Harry said.

Harry and Hermione looked around as they stood carefully on the ledge, pressing their backs on the cliff. The cavern was huge, and its cylindrical shape followed the direction of the river. Several different plants, moss, algae, and weeds grew abundantly in and around the damp brown walls.

“Where do you think we should go?” Harry asked Hermione. He noticed she was dirty all over. Her robes and uniform were stained with earth, and her face was soiled. If she was that way, Harry thought, and then he might have looked like her, but even worse. He could feel the thin film of dirt on his own face, too.

“I guess we go against the river flow - where it could be higher,” she suggested.

“Good thinking,” Harry agreed. Pointing to their right, he said, “Lets go this way…”

After they started walking a few feet ahead very carefully, they heard a small and muffled “boom” coming from somewhere. The cliff they stood on shook slightly.

“H-Harry, what's happening?” Hermione said, clinging to Harry and the edge of the cliff at the same time, the whites of her eyes standing out of the gloomy surrounding as she looked around.

“I t-think they're breaking through, the Death Eaters?” Harry thought loudly.

They both looked to the direction from where they came at the mouth of the tunnel anxiously, and soon they saw rays of light coming from within.

Hermione looked at Harry. “Correction, Harry,” she said apprehensively. “They're not breaking through - they've broken through!”

“Let's beat it out of here!” Harry said, and he tugged Hermione's hand. The ledge they were walking on was getting precariously narrower - it was just wide enough to accommodate the length of their feet. But they had to move as fast as they can or else they will be captured.

A Death Eater had emerged at the end of the tunnel and entered the cavern. He looked around and he spotted Harry and Hermione getting away (they were about less than ten yards ahead). “There they are!”

Hermione screamed, and Harry tugged her hand to move on along with him. Several Death Eaters had gotten out of the tunnel and inched along the ledge to pursue them. One of Death Eaters shot a violent spell to Harry and Hermione, and it hit the wall of the cliff just inches behind them, creating a tremor that everybody standing on the ledge had felt.

“No!” barked the nearest Death Eater back to his colleague. “You might kill them! Remember what the Dark Lord told us - they're his!”

“C'mon,” Harry said to Hermione, “if we move on ahead from them they might lose us - they won't dare to kill us!”

Hermione nodded. They didn't know how far the ledge would go, but they hoped it was somewhere out of here. The cavern looked endless.

For more than a hundred yards the chase ensued. The Death Eaters neither gained ground nor lost it. But soon Harry's spirits dropped when he saw the ledge was getting thinner and thinner as they moved along it, and this slowed them down significantly.

“Harry, I think they're gaining on us!” Hermione said anxiously.

“Keep going!” Harry said.

But it was getting harder to. The width of the ledge shrunk to a third of their feet. Worse, the surface was slippery. One wrong move and they would fall on the rampaging river just a little more than thirty feet above them. Meanwhile, the nearest Death Eater was closing in fast, about a stone's throw away.

“H-Harry!” Hermione whimpered.

“C'mon! I see a new opening up ahead! Just a little more!”

The situation got even much worse for the both of them. Another Death Eater had appeared at the mouth of the opening Harry had found. Harry and Hermione dropped their breath. They were trapped!

“Hold on to me!” Harry said. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm with both hands, and she looked back at the approaching Death Eater who was almost three yards away from her and he was now extending his arm to grab her.

Harry tried to reach for his wand but it was difficult when his left arm was holding on to Hermione and the other grasping the edge of the cliff behind him for balance.

“They're almost on to us!” Hermione shrieked.

Harry didn't know what the Death Eater ahead of him was thinking but he pulled out his wand and pointed it at both Harry and Hermione and bellowed, “Repulso!”

Harry dodged the spell slightly but Hermione was hit instead, and the spell knocked her down from the ledge, sending her down to the river. Immediately after she splashed on the water she was caught in the current and was washed away.

Harry yelled invectives at the Death Eater - some of the Death Eaters who were involved in the chase muttered curses at him, too. Harry only thought of Hermione who was in extreme peril, and he jumped off the ledge and dove on to the water after her, risking injury and death.

Some Death Eaters cursed loudly, and one of them decided to follow Harry's lead and jumped to the water.

Hermione had a head start of a few seconds, and Harry swam along with the current in the hope of catching up to her. The current was getting much faster, but fortunately there were no rocks to bump on. Harry had entered a narrower cavern now - it was getting a little darker that he couldn't see Hermione. Still, he swam.

The river rampage was getting more and more violent, however. Harry could feel it accelerating gradually until he eventually lost his rythmn. He began to tumble along with the flow, and he began to scream, taking in some water in his mouth. He didn't know what would happen to him next - the river flow might even get even more violent, and he was afraid he and Hermione would never survive this, and their bodies would never be found to forever to rot under the earth.

With a last gasp of air, he was submerged in a pipe-like tunnel. The water was falling even more viciously. After a moment, he felt himself stop abruptly - he had gone through a waterfall. He was running out of air and he swam upwards to breath. Soon, he had surfaced and he gasped for air. He didn't have time to examine where he was and began to look for Hermione.

“Hermione! Hermione!” he called, his voice reverberating in the underground cave, but there was no answer. He looked around him, and there was no sign of her at the surface. Harry's heart sank. She might still be underwater!

He inhaled all the air he could breathe in and dove down. He frantically looked around for Hermione, and he hoped he could find her before she'd drown. Harry looked for his bearings, and the most likely place he could find her was near the water fall. He submerged deeper, and he saw something white just ahead of him. The white collar was the only thing that stood out in the gloomy water, and Harry swam faster - it was Hermione, and she was motionless.

Harry grabbed her and swam upwards as fast as he could to the surface. Soon, he emerged from under the water. He found the nearest bank and he swam towards it, Hermione in tow. They passed by the floating body of the Death Eater who jumped after them. Harry didn't feel good seeing that while Hermione was still unconscious.

After a few tense seconds he had reached the shore and pulled Hermione in. Remembering what he saw on a TV show about lifeguards with red shorts and suits, Harry began to do mouth to mouth resuscitation.

He didn't know if he was doing it right, and he began to panic while he administered it. Hermione had been unconscious for a long time and she might be dead already. He didn't know how to do CPR, and tears were now beginning to well on his eyes and run down on his face.

“Hermione, please don't leave me!” he told her, and he resumed mouth to mouth. After a few more tries, there was no response from her.

Harry knew she was dead.

Harry hugged her off the ground and cried in grief. He couldn't believe he'd lost her and he failed to keep her alive. He wailed, rocking her body with his embrace, drenching her wet face with his tears. He wished he had died instead of her. He wished this never had happened. He didn't know what would be life now that she was gone - they had just embarked in a special relationship that would have been wonderful for the both of them. Her passing away was the most painful he felt in his life that his chest was cramping with extreme grief.

Or so he thought.

Hermione jerked. She spit off large amounts of water from her lungs and she coughed off more. Harry stopped crying abruptly and stared at her - he couldn't believe it! She was back.

“Hermione!” he cheered, still with tears in his eyes. “Thank God you made it! I - I thought I already lost you!”

“H-Harry,” she coughed, looking up at him with her eyes barely focused. Harry tightened his embrace on her, and Hermione lifted up her muddy hand to pat and squeeze his arm. “Harry, w-what mess have we gotten ourselves into?” she said humorously.

Harry howled with joy, and they both hugged even harder.

-o0o-

Half an hour later, Hermione had recovered her normal breathing after a few minutes of ejecting the last remaining water out of her lungs. She sat down on the damp shore, shivering from the wet and cold, but she was significantly calmer this time. Harry had gathered a few twigs and made a small bonfire lit by the Flamer charm, and that's where they both got some warmth.

They both looked miserable. Hermione's bushy hair was probably now home for a million grains of sand. The soil on her face was already washed clean by her joyride from the river, but her robes and uniform were still drenched. Harry volunteered to squeeze her jumper, robes, tie, and socks of water after he was done with his. He still couldn't do the “Tempera” charm even if how many times Hermione had taught him. She couldn't do it properly using Harry's wand - cold air gushed out instead of hot air.

“I gotta wash my hair after this,” she muttered. “It feels disgusting!”

After being subjected to all sorts of punishment that afternoon, Harry sniggered at something at last. Seeing Hermione back to her old self while they were both still in a dire situation like they were in to at the moment had a real motivating effect on him. He had almost given up with living on after he thought he'd lost Hermione once more, but now that she was alive and well he began to think again of what to do in order to escape this underground cavern to somewhere safe. Hermione's life had given him hope to strive to keep on living.

Hermione approached the bank of now Harry knew as a small lake and dipped her whole head on the water to clean her hair. She withdrew her head a bit from the water, but kept her hair dipped, while she stroked her hair free of sand. It was probably the first in Harry's life he had seen Hermione's bare hind neck - her thick bushy hair had always covered all of it ever since he met her (except during last year's Yule Ball when she wore that pretty hair knot). He didn't understand why he was mesmerized about it.

“Harry,” Hermione said, extending her hand to him but keeping her hair dipped forward on the water, “could I please borrow your wand for a second?”

“Uh, okay,” he replied awkwardly. “Why?”

“Just watch,” she giggled. Once she held on to Harry's wand, she tapped it on her hair and muttered something, and suddenly it was covered in a thick lather of a shampoo. “Oh, good,” she said. “It worked - only that it has no conditioner, apparently. I hope no one minds me polluting the lake with this. Oooh, that feels so good!”

“Uhuh, yeah,” Harry said, getting back his wand but still staring at Hermione's hind neck. “You're right - looks good from here…”

“Come again?” Hermione said bemusedly, looking back at him while she massaged her hair.

“Oh, nothing,” Harry grinned.

Hermione laughed. Perhaps she did hear what Harry said. “Harry, do you think they're still running after us?” she asked, while she rinsed her hair after a few minutes.

Harry's face returned to being businesslike. “Maybe, but they haven't shown themselves up till now - I think they lost us. They don't want to end up like him, I guess,” he said, pointing to the dead floating body of the Death Eater in the middle of the small lake.

Hermione withdrew her hair from the water and squeezed it. Harry stared at her again - for him it was so different and refreshing to see her do things a real girl does, and she looked striking with her hair all bunched up all together and straight as what he was seeing right then. Hermione had noticed him staring at her; she smiled and slowed down squeezing her hair of water in purpose - she wanted Harry to have a longer look on her.

“Where do you suppose we go next?” Hermione said, swinging her still wet hair to her back and standing up.

“Oh, you're right,” Harry said at once. “You stay put.”

“Where're you going?”

“I'll have a look around for an exit,” he replied. “I got to look for a way out of here…I won't go out of your sight, don't worry.”

When Harry started to walk away, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to her and kissed him on his lips.

“W-What was that for?” Harry asked, feeling warmth all over him.

“For good luck,” she said, grinning. “Be careful where you step, okay?”

“Oh, sure, thanks!” he replied. “You know, you got to do that more often,” he said, breaking away from her, smiling.

“Why only me?” she laughed.

“Be right back,” Harry said, laughing back, and he started to search for some kind of opening that would lead somewhere. Hermione sat back on the damp shore, but didn't keep Harry off her sight. Harry saw some deep seated rocks that he could climb and went over to it, thinking that he might find something atop.

The climbing was difficult. It took him almost ten minutes to negotiate about forty feet of it - but his efforts seemed to have bore fruit. He saw some dim light between some rocks - like it was made by firelight. He looked through the gaps and saw a passageway at the end of it. He could have been standing on a blocked passage and he began to remove some rocks.

“How does it look up there?” Hermione yelled from below. She had walked towards the foot of the rocky hill.

“I-I think I found something,” Harry grunted, lifting up a small boulder with his bare hands and throwing it down to the lake, creating a very loud splash.

“Watch it!” Hermione yelled again.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry said. He looked through the spot where the small boulder had been and he knew it was really a passageway, big enough for him and Hermione to walk through upright. It winded to the left, so he couldn't see what was at the other end. “I found us an exit!”

Hermione whooped from the ground. “What can I do to help?”

“I can do this, don't worry about it,” Harry assured her. “I'll try to make a small opening between these rocks for us to fit into without making the upper pile unstable…”

Just then, Hermione felt a small tremor on where she stood. She didn't have a good feeling about this. “H-Harry,” she said nervously.

“What?” Harry said, pulling out another rock very carefully.

“H-Harry…” she said more urgently.

Bang!

Hermione was knocked off her feet when the cliff, which was part of the waterfall a few meters away, exploded with thick dust. Harry stopped what he was doing to look down and see what it was, and it made his eyes bug out in horror. A new hole was made from the cliff - and amid the dust and debris came in more Death Eaters. They had dug a hole towards the bottom of the waterfall, certainly not giving up on recapturing them like they have thought.

“There they are!” shouted one of them.

Hermione screamed as she watched some half-dozen Death Eaters start to run towards her position.

“Hermione! Get out from there!” Harry yelled.

She didn't need any more telling. She regained her footing and began climbing up the rock formation towards Harry - it was the only way she could get away from the oncoming Death Eaters. She didn't know how she did it, but she managed to scale about ten feet of the rocks upwards where Harry had spent about almost more than half of that time.

The Death Eaters had reached the foot of the rock hill and started to climb up. Harry tried to aim his wand to the pursuing Death Eaters but he couldn't let off a spell - Hermione was directly in between them and she might get hit.

“Harry, j-just keep making a hole between the rocks!” Hermione told him while she kept climbing. “I'm coming!”

Harry nodded and concentrated nervously on the single rock he thought could give them more space to escape. It was heavy, and from the looks of it, it posed a danger of collapsing all the other rocks on top of it, possibly sealing their only avenue of escape if he got too careless. Then he heard Hermione scream again.

Looking back down, he saw one of the Death Eaters had caught up on her and grabbed her foot! Hermione was fighting to shake off the Death Eater's grip from her while she hung on the rocks. A couple more was gradually making progress climbing nearer to her. Harry knew she needed his help now. He dropped the act of prying some stones loose and pointed his wand at Hermione. He could see Hermione's eyes widen at him in wonder of what might have been thinking of.

“Was it Retractum, or Retracto?” Harry asked himself, but he had to decide which spell to use at once or Hermione would be captured.

“Carpe Retracto!” Harry said, and a blue shimmering rope-like beam lassoed around Hermione's waist and it began to retract, pulling her up to him. With the shock of floating upwards, the Death Eater who held Hermione's leg reflexively let go of her and he plummeted down to the water below.

“Grab hold to me!” Harry told her while she was en route upwards to him. She did what he said, and caught Harry by the waist using both her arms. Harry helped her up further, settling her down securely on a large boulder.

“You okay?” Harry asked her.

“Y-yeah, thanks, but th-they keep coming up!” she said, pointing downwards.

“C'mon, help me pull this rock loose,” Harry said, “before they're on top of us!”

However, a curse from nowhere slammed on top of the pile of rocks just above Harry and Hermione, blowing the pile apart, and sending heavy boulders falling down. Harry grabbed a screaming Hermione and covered her with his body, pinning her down on the huge boulder where they stood. Harry expected intense pain coming to his back any moment when big rocks came cascading down, but the rocks and boulders miraculously bounced above and around them. Still, he covered Hermione as much as he can from possible injury.

The curse surely came from one of the Death Eaters from below who thought it was a good idea, but it proved to be a very costly mistake in their part. While they scaled up the rock pile to get to Harry or Hermione, they could not get away from or dodge the falling rocks, hitting them squarely and causing them to fall down to the ground. Not all of them survived severe injury, except for one - and about half their number where killed of being crushed by heavy boulders.

Harry felt that the avalanche of rocks had ceased, and he looked around. He heard the loud moaning of wounded Death Eaters from below. Harry was afraid their only path to escape was blocked again, but aside from rendering their pursuers out of action, the other good thing the curse had done was the passageway was already partly clear of rocks. It was big enough to let them through!

He didn't wait a second longer and helped Hermione up to get to the passageway. The last remaining Death Eater was getting very near, his face full of fury. Harry let Hermione in to crawl in to the opening of the passageway, and Harry slithered in a short while later. He got on his feet and prodded Hermione to keep moving. Harry hoped real bad this was an open passageway and not a dead end, otherwise they'll be trapped again. If they were, he knew what to do and ambush the pursuing Death Eater when he advanced.

Much to his relief the passageway went on. The floor was wet and slippery, but this didn't slow them down. The peculiar thing was the walls of the passageway were littered with flaming torches. Harry had another bad feeling about this. What if this was really a trap and they were led back towards waiting Death Eaters at the other side? There was nothing to do now but to find out if that was true.

“Hermione,” he said, still walking fast ahead, “don't be surprised if we find Death Eaters at the end of this passage…”

“Funny, but I've been thinking the same thing, too!” Hermione replied anxiously, getting out of breath. “This looks like a freshly dug tunnel…”

“Merlin's beard, I think you're right…”

Further the passageway went. They didn't know how long this was, and there were already shrubs hanging on the low ceiling, to the sides and at the floor. Up ahead they saw a long segment of the passageway with weeds on the floor, but still they kept on going. They didn't guess what it really was until it was too late.

The weeds turned out to be a large net, and it wrapped Harry and Hermione whole in a second. They both yelled in complete surprise, and they felt being hoisted up like in a speeding elevator. Up and up they went, and then the hoisting stopped as fast as it started. By the feeling of it, Harry surmised they had elevated more than hundred feet up.

Harry said “I don't believe it! We fell into another trap!” He looked down, and felt his guts drop after he realized how high they were, though they were exactly level beside a new tunnel opening. It was a hole punctured on the cliff just a few feet away from them. He caught a glimpse of the lone Death Eater who pursued them below cross where they were caught by the net.

The only way to get to the new tunnel was to swing in towards it, though Harry didn't know how to do that.

“H-Harry, what're we going to do?” Hermione asked, with growing fear in her voice.

“Wait, I'll try to reach for my wand…” Harry said, and started to look for it in his robe pocket. It proved to be a difficult thing to do especially when he was almost upside down in the tight net with Hermione entangled with him.

“I hope you're not thinking of setting us loose by yourself, Harry,” said Hermione, sounding worried, and shifting herself unsuccessfully inside the cramped net. “We might fall down a couple hundred feet if you're not careful…”

“Do you have any other better idea?” Harry said impatiently, trying to move his hands around the net.

“No, but I don't want to be splattered down there either!”

“Damn! I-I can't reach it!” Harry grunted. “Can you…”

“Can I what?” interrupted Hermione.

“I think your hand is nearer to my pocket…could you try to reach for my wand?”

“How could I? Even if I wanted to, I can't get my arm off this hole of the net…Oh, my gosh! I see some people coming!”

A few men in dirty white robes walking along the tunnel came and approached them. “Look what we got here!” said one.

“C'mon, let's bring them to the boss!”

Harry and Hermione merely breathed and didn't say anything out of extreme disappointment. After all the effort they made to evade capture and Hermione almost drowning in the process, The Death Eaters had caught them again.

The men walked to the end of the tunnel and pulled the net in containing Harry and Hermione towards them with a long hook. Once the net was safe inside the tunnel, one of them cut the rope that hung it, and Harry and Hermione both fell on to the floor painfully.

“Rather quiet lot, aren't they, huh, Bruce?” laughed another.

“H-Harry,” Hermione whispered fearfully, “a-are we going to see him again?"

Harry exhaled, feeling afraid for the both of them again, especially for Hermione.

Bruce, the plumpest of the men took out a large knife (Hermione screamed a bit), and cut open the net, setting Harry and Hermione loose. “You two don't look like Death Eaters to me,” he said. “But we'll treat you as one until we know for sure who you really are! One false move and this knife cuts through your neck!” He seemed to be the leader of the group.

“Y-you're not Death Eaters?” asked Harry with a slight feeling of relief down on the floor with Hermione.

“If you think we're one of you, you're sorely mistaken!” he said severely. “How bold of you to wander this deep in our territory - we've killed many of your stupid kind already. I think that's better anyway; we reckon if you keep on coming and dying we'll just walk out of here eventually!”

“You must be one of the escaped prisoners…” Harry started.

“See here, how do you know that if you aren't Death Eaters?” The other men murmured in agreement.

“W-we're not! We were captured by Voldemort…” said Hermione.

Everyone else except Harry flinched.

“I'm Harry Potter,” said Harry. “We were kidnapped and almost killed by Voldemort - you got to believe us!”

Everyone else except Hermione flinched again.

“Yeah, right!” the man they were talking to snorted. “Just by saying his name and now you're Harry Potter. You're Death Eaters posing as…students. You're here to infiltrate to destroy us.”

“But we're too young to be Death Eaters,” reasoned Hermione.

“Because you're Animorphagi!” Bruce spat. “You can't do all of your dirty tricks with us - we're too smart to fall for a bloody Death Eater trap!”

“B-But…”

“Silence! We will bring you to the boss and he'll decide what to do with you!”

Harry and Hermione were forcibly turned around and pinned to the wall to be searched. Harry felt a hand dip into his robe pocket and his wand was fished out. Hermione however, fought back, whipped around, and slapped the offending man who held her on his face, preventing him to search her.

“Don't you dare!” she shrieked, pointing a finger between his eyes. Her face was extremely livid.

“Hermione…” Harry said.

“He's so blatantly fresh, Harry!” She said severely.

Bruce made a slight move toward her, and Harry covered Hermione with himself.

“What do you intend to do, boy?” said Bruce menacingly.

“I-I'll do the searching for you,” Harry told their captors. He didn't want to give the men the excuse to manhandle Hermione.

“Okay, one false move and this knife will cut your throat!” said Bruce.

Harry nodded and turned Hermione's robe pocket inside out. Hermione folded her hands and glared at the man she had slapped - his face was red with embarrassment.

“These are all the pockets she has,” Harry said. “She's unarmed.”

“Good,” Bruce said though suspiciously. “We'll see the boss now. Move!”

Harry and Hermione were prodded forward and they all moved forward along the tunnel away from the cliff. Hermione had stopped being angry and now felt apprehensive again as they walked further. They didn't know what was going to happen to them again. They had been through a lot of uncertainties today, and they had a bad feeling they still had more things to worry about after this. Hermione clung on to Harry tightly as they walked deeper in the low tunnel.

The walk took more than ten minutes, and at last they had entered a large cave populated by a small group of people. They apparently weren't Death Eaters from the looks of it. They wore white robes like Bruce had on, but not one of them were wearing a Death Eater mask. Harry was almost sure they were the escapees he heard about back in Voldemort's throne room, though he wasn't sure why they were his prisoners at the first place.

The cave was damp and humid. Harry could only count just a couple of small tables and chairs as furnishings with funny little instruments on them. Some people looked at them warily, while others were busy chipping off stones and grinding them into pointy tools. A few long wooden sticks rested on one part of the cave with a couple of men tying the tools at the tips. Harry understood that they were producing spears.

A tall and muscular man approached Harry and Hermione. She was half a foot taller than them, with a dense curly white hair, very pale skin, and white eyes. He looked like an albino.

“What do we have here?” he asked. “They look too young to be Death Eaters…”

“Because we're not…ow!” Harry said. He was knocked on the head by Bruce.

“They were caught by one of the nets we set up yesterday, Hal,” Bruce said. “The male says he's Harry Potter, but I don't buy it…”

People who heard Harry's name stopped what they were doing and stared at Harry.

Hal murmured. “Harry Potter he says he is, eh?” he replied. He walked nearer to Harry and pulled back his hair, revealing his scar. “This one comes complete with the scar…”

“But I am Harry Potter!” Harry said furiously.

“I'm not convinced,” Hal said, releasing his hold on Harry's hair and walked away. “This could be a trick by You-Know-Who. Probably Animorphagi…”

“That's what I thought so, too, Hal,” said Bruce.

“But you must believe us!” Hermione said. “We've been captured by Vol - “

“Don't you say his name again!” Bruce yelled threateningly.

Hal turned back to face Hermione. “What's your name, girl?”

“H-Hermione Granger, sir,” she answered.

Hal searched for her name in his mind, and he shook his head. “Doesn't ring a bell…”

“I'm Harry's best friend from Hogwarts.”

“You're too far from school, both of you...”

“It's because we've been captured by…VOLDEMORT!” Harry bellowed, rolling his eyes.

Everyone gasped upon hearing Voldemort's name, but not Hal.

“Impressive for a Death Eater to mention his master's name,” Hal laughed, “but that doesn't convince me any further.”

“Then what in tarnation do you want us to do to convince you otherwise?” Hermione said indignantly.

Just then, one of the escaped prisoners came in the cave, dragging in a dead Death Eater body.

“Where'd that one come from, Abe?” asked Hal, looking down at the body.

“This one came in just behind those two,” Abe replied, jerking his head towards Harry and Hermione. “Tried to sneak in, but I ambushed and killed him before he could come in any further.”

Hal grunted. “Looks like your diversion didn't work, Harry and Hermione.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other incredulously. “He's not with us…he was chasing us before we got caught in the net…” Harry tried to tell Hal.

“Too late, you're Death Eaters and you will die,” Hal said with finality in his voice. “Bruce, take them back to where and execute them!”

“No!” Hermione yelled. “You gotta believe us! W-we're not Death Eaters!”

Hal, however, ignored her and walked away. Bruce and the couple other men who brought them in started to pull Harry and Hermione out of the cave. They both struggled to stay in to plead their case, but they were held on forcibly by the arms to their back.

In an attempt to escape from their new captors, and soon to be murderers, Harry had broken free from Bruce's grip, wrestled him down to the ground and started punching his face to try to get back his wand. Hermione stomped on the foot of the man who held her, making him skip on the other in pain, and she broke his nose with a fist, sending him down to the ground, too. She moved over quickly to Harry to help wrestle for his wand, too.

Several more people had joined in the scuffle. They tried to break Harry and Hermione away from the shrieking Bruce, but Harry was too determined to regain his wand he was virtually stuck on him. Harry swung his elbow back and hit quite a few faces. He and Hermione, however, were soon overpowered and they were separated from Bruce. They were held on to the ground by many pairs of hands.

“I'll kill you here right now!” Bruce growled furiously at Harry and Hermione, took out his big knife, and swung it back to hack them. Hermione screamed in terror seeing Bruce's murderous face.

“STOP IT!” yelled somebody Harry couldn't see. Whoever it was, he made Bruce drop what he was about to do instantly even if he was extremely passionate about stabbing and killing Harry and Hermione. “What's going on here?”

Bruce looked at the unknown person and said, “They're Death Eaters posing as Hogwarts students! They need to be executed!”

“Hogwarts students?” the man said with a very coarse voice. “So, did they say what their name was?”

“Yes,” Hal replied, “they say they're Harry Potter and Hermione…I forgot her last name...”

“G-Granger, sir, Granger!” Hermione whimpered.

“What? No, I-It can't be!” the man said. “They're here?”

Harry tried to look around to see who the unknown person was, but he couldn't.

“You know them?” asked Hal. “They might be impostors…”

“Maybe I can ask him questions only the real Harry Potter could answer…”

“Who are you?!?” Harry grunted while being continually pinned on the ground. “Please let me see your face!”

The man walked over and knelt down on one knee beside Harry to take a good look at him. “Hello, Harry, if you're really Harry…”

Harry gasped. He couldn't believe who he was seeing.

It was Willard Wraskon staring down at him, and he was alive.

-o0o-

Chapter 19 coming soon

Authors note (again): Didn't reach the 9000 word mark, but very close. Please leave your review or comments after reading. I'm actually a little concerned I didn't meet your expectations about where I'm bringing this story to, but it's progressing well as I planned it. So that's why feedback is important for the writers (grin). Thanks in advance!

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20. Hallen Rodd

Update (Dec. 13, 2004): Another update and another plea for a little more time. (blush). I'm still working on Chapter 20, and it took another rewrite(!!!) because I wasn't happy with the original composition. I hope when I release it, it won't be a dud (at least). Thursday will be my schedule to release it. Thanks for your patience.

Author's Note: Thanks very much for waiting patiently for this chapter to be posted! Thanks, Thieving Magpie for your reviews, views, and useful critiques. (I'm trembling! Hahaha) Thanks also to Andy B, Lady Blazey, PottersPrincess, and Musique for letting me know what you think! Also to gal-txter for the heads up for the rec's. (We speak a common language aside from English)

I'm sorry, this chapter won't include the “fun part” as I've expected and mentioned before. Please read the authors note for my (hopefully valid) explanation. Thanks!

Chapter 19

Hallen Rodd

“W-Willard!” Harry said, feeling initially relieved of finally finding someone he knew who could help him and Hermione out of this tight situation and possibly being murdered mercilessly. “You're alive!”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, but not in a cheerful manner as Harry would have expected. Harry didn't understand why Willard wasn't smiling back at him.

Hal moved forward. “Do you know each other?”

“Supposedly…I think we'll have to find out,” Willard said.

Harry gawked at him.

Willard looked at Harry and stared straight at his eyes. “I'm sorry if I have to do this but before I recognize you as the real person, `Harry', you have to answer a couple of questions from me, understood? One mistake and I'll…I don't want to say and think about it…”

“One mistake and I will let Bruce hack them,” Hal said.

Harry's spirits plummeted slightly. He knew he wasn't out of this yet, but he nodded his head vigorously (he was still held down and pinned firmly on the ground). He thought he was ready to answer any of Willard's questions and he hoped he'd choose the ones that were pretty easy.

“What's the name of my niece?”

“Stephanie!” Harry answered quickly.

Hal grunted. “Oh, gimme a break!” Hal exclaimed. “That's too easy, Wraskon! Even the Death Eaters know who her father is - you said they were held hostage back at your hotel to make sure you do your work properly here…”

Willard closed his eyes in annoyance, knowing that Hal was right. He had to ask a kind of question only he and Harry knew of, and it was very difficult for him to do. Not only that he strongly felt this was really Harry he was talking to and that he didn't want his colleagues to be given the excuse to kill him and his friend, but he didn't also want to risk their own security either. He bitterly remembered their recent and unpleasant experience with their other escaped prisoner, Francs Girbeaux, who turned out to be an Animorphagus Death Eater who infiltrated the group and had pretended to be as such. The Death Eater had blown his cover when he could not answer simple scientific questions from Willard. The real Francs Girbeaux was actually recaptured during their escape. From then on they were all wary of whoever turned out late. At the same time, Willard thought if this was another big attempt from the Death Eaters to infiltrate them, he found it peculiar why they chose to throw in Harry Potter this time. That's why he was almost convinced it was really him, but unfortunately the others didn't seem to appreciate that.

“That's totally unfair!” Harry protested to Hal. “I answered his question correctly!”

“I make the rules here!” Hal spat back.

Willard, however, ignored what Harry had said and proceeded with another question to satisfy everybody. “The thing that we got in the tavern back in Dufftown…”

“The Pocket Portkey!” Harry answered immediately.

Willard nodded and smiled. One down and more to go. “Yes, that thing…what was the name of the Tavern?”

Harry stared at Willard incredulously. How on earth could he remember the name of the Tavern he had seen only once? That particular kind of information was now probably hidden in the deepest recesses of his brain and it would take days for him to dig up. The mention of the Pocket Portkey was definitely enough proof already - no one else knew about it other the Ron, Mr. Weasly, and probably the bartender then who'd given up the pub lately.

“Willard, please don't do this to me!” Harry pleaded. “I only saw it once and didn't care to even remember it! Ask me something else, please!”

“If he doesn't answer the question in ten seconds,” Hal said, “they're dead.”

Willard looked furious with himself. It was a stupid question, he knew, and he was like only one of the thirty people who used to patronize the well-hidden joint before it was offered to him as debt payment by the former bartender. “I'll change the question…” he offered.

“NO!” Hal growled. “He had his chance. He answers it correctly or he dies! He's a Death Eater Animorphagi, I'm now convinced of it!”

“See here, Hal…”

“Answer it!” Hal shouted at Harry, with a frightening look on his face. Willard gritted his teeth and he stood up, grunting in anger and rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

Harry knew Hal was bent on executing him and Hermione if he didn't answer the question. He had never felt so pressured to answer a question in his life, especially when his and Hermione's life depended on it. The seconds ticked on and he was running out of time very quickly. It was just impossible!

“Time's up...” Hal said.

Willard made a move to shield Harry

“No, wait!” Harry exclaimed when Bruce pulled out his large knife once more.

“Hal…don't be hasty…” Willard said warningly.

“Froth's!” Hermione said suddenly.

“That's right!” Willard exclaimed.

“What did you say, girl?” Hal said.

“Froth's is the name of the pub. And the bartender who owned it before giving it up to Willard was Zack. Harry and Ron introduced themselves to Willard at first as Ernie and Bert but he didn't buy it later!”

Harry looked slowly at her with a wide smile. “But h-how did you know that?” he asked.

“You told me about the whole story one time, Harry,” she replied calmly. “I- I just remembered everything you said…”

Harry smiled back at her astonishingly, amazed by her sharp memory. He looked around for Willard, and he saw him wearing a very wide smile, too.

“There you have it - they're for real,” Willard declared cheerfully. “Harry's friend here, who I am certain is really Hermione, answered my question correctly and then some that only them could know. Please let them loose, Hal. Now! ”

Harry then gazed at Hal. The man didn't look actually defeated - he looked more like shocked.

“A-Are you sure?” Hal tried to confirm. “The real Harry Potter?”

Harry stared at Hal who from Harry's view went from being too tough to someone suddenly acting so stupid.

Willard nodded. “I guarantee it. You almost had the Boy Who Lived killed - you should have detained them for a while before deciding to have them executed abruptly. I know what happened to us before about Francs, but there are times when it's helpful not to get too feisty about everything - I told you that so many times, didn't I?”

“Y-You're right…I-I almost caused them to do something terrible…” Hal said weakly, gesturing at Bruce and his band of defenders, and backing himself on to the wall behind him. He looked at the people still holding Harry and Hermione down on the dirt floor and said, “Release them…immediately!”

They obeyed, and withdrew their hands quickly. Harry and Hermione stood up at once and backed further away from them.

Willard went to Harry and offered to shake his hand, which he took rather uncertainly. “I'm very sorry all about this, Harry, but I really hope you and your friend are all right…”

“I-I'm fine,” Harry said, and he looked around for Hermione. She looked shaken and glared at Hal who looked genuinely remorseful. Harry and Hermione's eyes met; she proceeded to embrace Harry and buried her face on his right chest, hoping that he'd provide her with some strength. Harry understood how she felt - she'd been staring straight at the eyes of death for so many times already. She was very upset but she didn't cry.

“Harry, I know things may be simmering with you right now, but I have to introduce to you Hallen Rodd - Hal for short,” Willard said. “He's the elected leader of the group - the man who'll lead us to safety. I'll introduce you then to the others when - when things start to wind down. But for now - Hal - you owe Harry here an apology.”

“O-of course,” he said meekly. “Mr. Potter, I'm very sorry for everything I've done against you. Please accept my apologies in behalf of my colleagues…”

Bruce and all the offending people all nodded and murmured in support of Hal's statement.

“We were carried very much away,” Hal went on. “Please understand we're living a dangerous life here down underground while we try to survive and I know it's not your fault but you came at a bad time just after we'd been freshly attacked by You-Know-Who's Death Eaters. Their attacks have been relentless, and we have had some experiences of Death Eater attempts to infiltrate our ranks. I can't imagine what would happen if we proceeded to hack you to death - I should have thought about it then before making a terrible and hasty judgment.”

“You-Know-Who would probably throw you a party after that,” Willard said. “Or maybe he'd kill you for beating him up to it for killing Harry instead of him. You then almost created a great headline for the Daily Prophet tomorrow…a real stunner!”

Hal glanced at Willard uncomfortably.

Harry didn't say anything and looked down at Hermione who he was still holding in your arms. She nodded her head slightly and whispered to him it was okay to accept his apology. Harry hesitated at first but he knew it would not be good at all if he did otherwise. He thought Hermione and he would be better off not being all alone together in a hostile place. They needed all the help they could get, and at the same time they could be able to help these people for whatever they were doing to survive. They were all in the same boat. Harry nodded reluctantly and smiled back at Hal who then looked relieved; Harry offered his hand to Hal to shake, which he gratefully took and everybody around them looked very happy.

“Thank you, Harry,” said Willard. “It's a bad time to be reunited for us, but I'm happy to see you again.”

“Same here, Willard,” Harry replied, trying hard to take off from his mind everything Hal had almost did to him and Hermione. “We thought you were dead. Stephanie was so distraught about your disappearance…”

“You met her?” Willard asked, his eyes getting wide.

“Yeah, back in your hotel - Ron and I went there to pay you a visit, but we found out you were abducted. Steve told us what happened…”

“A-Are they all right? What happened to them?”

“Don't worry, they're unhurt and safe back in Ireland,” Harry assured. “Ron's father sent in some Aurors to rescue them. Stephanie is still probably worried about you right now.”

“That - That's good to hear,” Willard sighed. “I always think and worry about them while they were left back at my hotel. I know they wouldn't last forever in there. Sometimes I wish I never tried to invent that potion everybody's so crazy about and this would have never happened. Hang on! What in the world are you here for?”

“Er…”

“If you'll excuse me,” Hall interrupted gently, “I'm due for a situation meeting. We'll be finalizing our plans for you know what this midnight. Harry and his friend here might want to join us - you might want to ask them. Nice meeting you, Harry - we'll meet again later.”

Harry nodded at Hal. The group leader left with Bruce with some of the prisoners who bowed guiltily when they passed by Harry.

Harry looked back at Willard, who still expected an answer from him. “We were kidnapped back in Hogsmeade - Hermione and me here. Oh, sorry, Hermione, this is Willard; Willard, Hermione.

Willard smiled at her. “At last, I've met you, Hermione. Harry had always wanted for us to meet, but supposedly in a much better setting.” He shrugged.

“It doesn't matter at all, sir,” Hermione smiled back. “I've wanted to meet you, too, for a long time. Harry here talks about you always…”

Willard laughed. “And he mentions you always in his letters to me - about a good chunk of everything he writes to me is about you…you can call me Willard.”

“Okay, thanks, Willard,” she answered back. She gazed at Harry, who went pretty red on his face.

“So how did You-Know-Who get you now, Harry?” Willard asked.

Harry told Willard everything that happened to him and Hermione starting from Hogsmeade and how they got to this part of the fortress. When Harry started to mention about how the Death Eaters used Hermione as an asset on the effort (Hermione was especially shocked by that revelation), Willard asked them to move with him to a much quieter place and they chose the end of the tunnel where Harry and Hermione were brought in by the net.

“I don't want to let them hear about this, my fellow prisoners,” Willard whispered to Harry and Hermione when they were all alone.

“Why?” asked Harry.

“You see, they created a Serum for You-Know-Who, and they vowed to kill anyone they knew who were injected with it…”

“What?” Harry said. “You mean they're responsible for making the Serum?”

“In way, Harry, yes. They - I mean, we - were forced to develop and reproduce the serum in question against our will…”

“So they're part of the scientists who were reported missing, too, along with with you, aren't they? Is that why you were all abducted? To make the Serum?”

“That's right. Everyone you see in the cave is a potions master and a scientist. We all succeeded in escaping the dungeons and decided to hold out here in the underground tunnels until we decided again to escape Xanthius entirely. We have had out own important contributions to magical science, and You-Know-Who must have not wanted to settle for anything less than the best. Almost all of us are Squibs who have made up for it as being inventors. My personal discovery…”

“The Metavira Potion…” Harry provided.

“Yes, that. The potion is the last crucial ingredient to make the serum very effective. I was the last to be kidnapped - and they didn't want just anyone to mix it up for You-Know-Who. They wanted the inventor himself. We were forced to finish the serum in a matter of days - if we didn't produce a working serum, we were going to be killed. I suspected even if we made a serum, we would be killed anyway but my other colleagues didn't want to believe that.”

“What are you two on about?” Hermione asked, totally perplexed and lost, looking at Harry and Willard back and forth. She had wanted to interrupt their conversation ever since but she chose to listen. “Serum? What Serum? And what's this about the Death Eaters using me…I don't remember anything about it at all! Is this some kind of a joke?”

Harry and Willard both made nervous glances towards her, and Willard said, “Does Hermione know what ever happened to her?”

“I- I didn't have the heart to tell her - yet,” Harry sighed. “Sorry.” Hermione gawked at him incredulously.

“Well, I think she better knows about it, Harry,” Willard suggested. “She has the right to know.”

“Yes, that's right, I do!” Hermione said. “Harry, please tell me the truth. What happened? I want to know!”

Harry exhaled deeply and asked Hermione to sit down and relax on the ground, and after she settled herself beside the tunnel wall, Harry proceeded to tell her everything, including how she allegedly got it. Hermione often shook her head in disbelief as Harry went on.

“I - I brought you here for Voldemort… I brought you here for Voldemort…” she kept on repeating, shaking her head all the time.

“It's not your fault, Hermione,” Willard told her. “The Death Eaters brought Harry for You-Know-Who, and you were just their victim as he was.”

“But I did it!” she argued. “If it wasn't for me, Harry wouldn't be here right now! Right?”

“Indirectly, Hermione,” Willard said. “Very, very, indirectly. You were used without your complete knowledge, and that is what's important. It does not make you at all responsible for it, I can assure you. You're a victim and I know how the serum works. Actually I am much more to blame of causing all of this. Because of my cowardice, I chose to give in to the threats of the Death Eaters to kill me if I didn't obey them and make the Potion to complete the Serum for You-Know-Who. I should have known they'd kill me if I prove to be useless someday, anyway. I should have refused to work for them…

“I didn't really know what their true motives were to create this serum. My real belief up to now was the You-Know-Who wanted a very effective way to infiltrate the wizard world with unwilling servants for his diabolic ends in a clandestine manner. My theory is when the time comes the number of infected wizards and witches would reach a critical mass, he'd unleash his unsuspecting army to do his evil deeds…without question or any form of resistance. To me, having obedient slaves who'll follow you to the ends of the earth would be the best army anyone could ever have. But I never thought they'd also use the serum specifically to get you here in this fortress and murder you, Harry. You-Know-Who probably thinks it's an amusing game to have you here for his own self and murder you when he wants to. And to use your best friend to achieve that end, it's…it's just wicked.”

“But how did they ever succeed in injecting it to me?” Hermione asked, now in the verge of crying. “I should've suspected along something was wrong with me and I would've looked for help…”

Harry told her what Seymour had revealed to him back at Hogsmeade. “They struck while you were sleeping in your home,” he concluded.

“But I- I don't remember anything about that!” she pointed out, still in a state of denial. “He must have been putting you on, Harry!”

Willard crouched in front of her and placed a hand on top of her shoulder. “The standard procedure I heard the Death Eaters being taught about administering the serum,” he said gently, “was simply to subject the victim to a memory charm. It's really a simple but ingenious way to keep the victim oblivious to what was done to them. The serum works better if it's kept secret from the victim.”

Hermione breathed and stared at Willard, slowly shaking her head. But he and Harry let her think about it more deeply, which she did. Gradually she collected all the past events that had happened to her before and she thought was very strange and that she could find a ready explanation for. “What does the serum do, really?” she asked finally.

“You already know it's injected to the bloodstream of the victim, right?” Willard started, and Hermione nodded. “The serum acts very fast and could be distributed through your system in a matter of hours. First, the victim will have a sudden high-grade fever three or four hours after it's injected. The fever will persist for about twenty four hours or so and will also abruptly go away…”

Harry glanced at Hermione. She was listening attentively to Willard though she had some difficulty in breathing. Perhaps she was being overwhelmed by the reality of the situation pretty badly. “Willard, I think this is too much for Hermione…”

“No, Harry!” she yelled, glaring at him but her eyes were teary. “I want to know everything! Willard, please go on…”

Harry merely went silent and bowed his head sadly.

“As I was saying,” Willard continued, “it's a sudden on and off fever. Then if the victim doesn't die at first, the serum then goes to work. The victim is totally possessed. Now, it is activated only by the voice of a Death Eater, and You-Know-Who himself. The incantation to possess the victim is `Domini'. On the other hand, in order to release control of the victim, the words are `Vox Domini'.”

“I-I remember Seymour mutter the first word very often,” Hermione said. “But I never bothered to ask why he did so and what it is…”

“Who's Seymour?” Willard asked, and Harry described the Death Eater they often met at Hogwarts to him.

Willard nodded and said, “So I assume he's the Death Eater who probably controlled Hermione to do what everything he wanted her to do, which I don't have a clue of, huh?”

“But I don't remember doing anything for him…” Hermione said.

“Yes, that's because anybody who'd be controlled by the Death Eaters will never have any recollection of what they did for them as long as the possession serum remains active. That's the worst part of it. It's like you're a living dead - mesmerized. The Death Eater has to release control of the victim in preferably a short time to minimize suspicion. Harry, do you have any clue what this Seymour might have ordered poor Hermione to do?”

Harry nodded. Reluctantly, he told him and Hermione everything Seymour had revealed to him back at Hogsmeade, especially the part about rigging the Snitch to lure him out of the Hogwarts. Harry then proceeded to tell Hermione what she did to help the Death Eaters bring him in to Xanthius, and how she did the Cruciatus Curse against him. There could have been other instances that Seymour had succeeded in possessing her, which they thought they may never learn of anymore.

Hermione couldn't believe what she heard from Harry. She never imagined she could ever do those things against him. For her it was like she had betrayed her best friend who had today asked her to be his girlfriend and then accepting it very willingly. For her it was like she had deceived him - tricked him for making him think they had made their bond even stronger yet she hurt him harshly in the end. Though Harry didn't sound accusing at all, tremendous guilt however coursed through her now and she couldn't take it any longer. The guilt she felt was so powerful - all she could do was hide her face very tightly with both her hands from Harry, feeling extremely humiliated about her actions. She cried loudly.

“Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!” she bawled. “I'm so sorry for everything! I'm so sorry for ever hurting you!”

Harry moved towards her, and he also couldn't stand seeing Hermione so troubled that his own tears poured down on his cheek. He embraced Hermione wholeheartedly. He didn't want her to even feel slightly guilty about it, but now that she was, he began to regret for even telling her about the whole thing. He knew from Willard's description of how the serum works that Hermione never had any knowledge whatsoever with what she was doing for Seymour the Death Eater.

Willard was right about one thing - she was never responsible for her actions. She was a victim like everyone else. She didn't ask to be invaded at her room late at night by Death Eaters to give her the serum. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were undisputedly to be blamed for everything bad that had happened to all of them. It's because of their twisted and evil desire to murder Harry with all means necessary that they were now here stuck in a hostile fortress with no clue on how to escape. Hermione needed to understand that and not think otherwise. Harry did his best to soothe and calm her down, but she kept on crying and saying “sorry”.

“I should have heeded your advice about not pushing it, Harry,” Willard groaned, feeling sorry for Hermione now.

“I-It's okay, Willard,” Harry said, absorbing Hermione's every tear on his robe. “Mind you, she almost died more than three times this year in entirely different ways, but I guess the bit about doing the dirty work for Death Eaters is just too much to bear for her - well, she's been crying a lot lately. We'll just have to let her understand there's no point to blame herself too much…”

“I see…more than three times you say? That - that's horrible.”

Harry nodded, and Hermione kept on howling.

Willard watched Hermione in a commiserating way and said to Harry, “We have to help her and find a way how to get that serum out of her system. I have to say she's still dangerous in the midst of Death Eaters, and we'll have to do something about it. She doesn't deserve to die for it, unlike what my colleagues are thinking of. All of Hal thinks of now is to kill - I don't know what's gotten into him after we chose him to lead us. Bruce would naturally follow his lead - he's been his lab assistant for years.”

“Yeah, they were a little too feisty back there, weren't they?” said Harry, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

“That's right. Hal, Bruce and the others seem to be too aggressive now for their own good - they're actually nerds trying to look very tough, don't you know that! They're overdoing it and it's becoming unhealthy for us and for them. What do you think would have happened if they succeeded into hacking you both and Hermione dead? Would they just shrug it off when the wizard world held them accountable for it? Then that would be terrible, totally irresponsible, and stupid!

“They're very bright blokes, Hal and Bruce. I've known them for years. All they could have done then at least was to use their brilliant minds into considering Harry Potter could be in this fortress with a friend was because they were captured by You-Know-Who and had just escaped just like us…But I`m afraid I do have to admit he had a reason to be wary of anyone coming in claiming to be somebody we know…”

“Why's that?”

“Recently we had a bad run in with a Death Eater who succeeded into infiltrating our underground resistance. He pretended to be my good friend and colleague Francs Girbeaux who took some time to rejoin us after we had broken out of the dungeons. He kept disappearing, probably to report on us. But when we confronted him and he could not answer a very simple thing as a common ingredient in one of Francs potions, “Francs” morphed into his real Death Eater image and fought off our advances to subdue him. Many of us were killed in the process, but we caught him.”

“Where's he now?”

“Dead - we pushed him off this cliff,” Willard said, jerking his head towards the end of the tunnel. Harry whistled when he looked down, seeing large rocks and boulders at the bottom, and a white spot where he surmised the Death Eater fell with a sickening crack.

“After that,” Willard continued, “Hal ruled not to accept anymore late comers. I tried to talk him out of it for the sake of the real Francs, but…” he shrugged. “I'm just glad he gave you some consideration, for our friendship's sake.”

“I- I still don't like him,” Harry told Willard.

“He's actually a good man, Hal Rod. Most of the time, at least.You just met him during a difficult time. He's not being himself, maybe, because he's scared to death of…dying. All his life he's been bullied because he's a Squib, but now we put our complete confidence in him to lead us out of this hole. His qualifications, you ask? He came from survivalist training in a Muggle school. The net you were caught in, it was his creation. It was made out of nothing, just scraps that we found. His ingenius traps, the spike pits, and tripwires that roll down huge boulders - we built them under his supervision. He had proven himself time and again, and fifteen rotting bodies of Death Eaters prove it.

“Is that right?” Harry said, slowly feeling some growing respect for the man, though he couldn't forget what Hal almost did to him and Hermione. But he'll just have to trust Willard for now about what he speaks of Hal.

“Listen,” Harry said, “when I was brought in to Voldemort's throne room, there were about a dozen Death Eaters pleading to drop the chase in the dungeons saying it was too dangerous. Voldemort killed one of them for refusing to go, so either way, they're good as dead. They were pretty scared…”

Willard laughed. “They were huh? I think Hal would be proud when he hears that story. But we know we can't stay here forever. We're running out of food today. Two more days we'll be too hungry to have the strength to escape. We've drawn up some plans on how to get out from this awful place, and Hal and the others are finalizing it now. The schedule is this midnight - good thing you caught up with us, or you would have been stuck here forever… which reminds me…I have to catch up on the meeting…I'll be back with you two. Are you sure Hermione will be all right?”

“I-I'll take care of her, don't worry,” Harry said. “You go on to the meeting.”

“Yeah, I have to,” Willard said. “I must push for my own important proposal with Hal before we try to go for it. There's only one person in the world who I hope could help everyone who's been victimized with the serum, and especially Hermione here.”

“Who?”

“Francs Girbeaux. They still have him, for sure. He was the unwilling project manager and he was secretly developing an anti-serum. I was the only one he trusted to tell me about it, and I think he was almost on to a breakthrough when we saw the opportunity to stage the jail break. He was a slow runner and he got caught while escaping. I still believe he's still alive, and while Hal and the others are currently planning for the great escape as we speak, I always insist of not leaving Francs behind. Hal thinks it's too risky to rescue him, so I think I have to tell him the reason why he's important and Hal might consider it very carefully.”

“Yeah, I agree, you must convince him, Willard! The anti-serum…”

“We'll talk again when things settle down here, okay?” Willard said. “Are you willing to escape the fortress with me, Harry, along with the others?”

“Do we have a choice?” Harry answered, smiling slightly. “Of course - we wouldn't want to be stuck here forever, right? We watch out for each other.”

Willard nodded and smiled back. “Thank you…I'll be back with you both soon and fill you in with the details.”

“Thanks…and Willard…”

“Yes?”

“You seemed to have changed a lot, it seems I don't know you - I do miss the jolly bloke I met back at the hotel…” Harry laughed slightly.

“Ah.” Willard stood upright and said, “So what'll it be, Harry?” he mocked. “Fried chicken or Turkey - the order comes with a free humongous slice of chocolate pudding…”

“Thanks, Willard,” Harry chuckled. “It's really good to see you again…”

“The feeling's mutual, my good friend,” replied Willard, smiling broadly. He gave Harry a quick salute and turned on his heel towards the meeting.

-o0o-

Harry chose not to say anything and he allowed Hermione to fall silent over an hour after Willard had left them. He thought it was a little better when he left her to think about things very deeply, though he had not let go of his embrace on her even for a short time. Hermione seemed to feel very comfortable with his close hold on her. At the same time for Harry, holding Hermione this close in his arms had a soothing therapeutic effect on him. It seemed having her that close removed every bad feeling he had out of the terrible experiences they both shared lately. Perhaps it was this very reason that Hermione chose not to let go of him, too.

They both stared out of the mouth of the tunnel, listening to the serene sound of the water fall a hundred feet down below. It was Hermione who broke the silence.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” he replied softly.

“Are you furious with me?”

“No…”

“After all I've done?”

“No…”

“I'm sorry, Harry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I really am.”

“Hermione - please don't blame yourself…”

“But I hurt you!” she said, starting to cry again. “I'd never try to hurt you with the Cruciatus Curse!”

“Voldemort controlled you…you're not responsible for it!”

“It's because I wasn't being too careful - I let them inject it to me…”

“What?” Harry said, breaking slightly away from Hermione to look at her. She was staring at him, her eyes bloodshot. “What're you saying?”

“I let them inject the serum at me, Harry,” she sobbed. “I should have woken up before they went in my room, I could have fought them off and this would have never happened…”

Harry sighed. He thought Hermione meant something else, and he gazed straight at her eyes. Hermione looked away but Harry steered her chin to face him slowly.

“Every once in a while we goof,” he said. “But you didn't goof - you were fast asleep. We are most vulnerable when we sleep, and the Death Eaters took advantage of that.”

“But you and Ron woke up before they did something to you…”

“That's because Moody was there in the room with us,” Harry said. “You were alone that night in your own. You know, I should have insisted for you to spend the holidays with us back at the train station. The Death Eaters would have found an empty bed in your room that night if I did. But during that time I didn't want you to be deprived of the chance to spend time with your parents because I know you missed them…”

“Yeah, I missed them all right,” Hermione replied. “But I shouldn't have waited for you to insist even more - I wanted to spend the holidays with you then.”

Harry stared. “You did?”

Hermione nodded, and put her head on his shoulder again. “Harry, I've been hoping for years for you notice me, but I'm glad you finally did back at Hogsmeade.”

“Y-Years?”

“But for me what hurts most is that I betrayed you right after we agreed to go steady, like you've told your story. It-it's just a ruthless thing for me to do. For that, I feel I don't deserve you anymore…” Hermione started to cry again.

“Oh, Hermione, please don't think that way…” Harry said soothingly. “I don't hate in any way…”

“Because of me,” she interrupted, “you're here and you've been harmed - you almost died with that snake…Voldemort should have already killed me - I deserve it.”

Harry thought they were going back in circles, and it meant Hermione still didn't forgive herself yet.

“Hermione,” he said, “what's done is done, okay? We were all duped. It's not anybody's fault we're here in Xanthius right now. Nobody should be blamed but only Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Because he is so evil, he can always think of a way to hoodwink anyone just reach his ends. Didn't Dumbledore say once the one of the best weapons of Voldemort is secrecy?”

Hermione nodded, but kept sniffing.

“They kept their possession of you in total secret…Ron could have been the real asset - not you. If it was Ron, we'd never know about until it was too late, like now. I know Ron personally would never want to do the things that you were made to do back there…but even that he will because he'd be used by Death Eaters without his total knowledge. He could kill me if they told him to, but would the real Ron do that hideous thing to me?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Do you really think Ron would be responsible for his actions then if he was ordered to do so when he wasn't even aware of what he was doing?”

Hermione shook her head again.

“Then it will also be the same for you, I know it.” Harry said gently. “That's why I'm not mad at you even just a little bit. I'm not charging you with anything. You didn't know what you were doing. You never wanted to do those things you were forced to do, right?”

She nodded her head this time. “Harry, I'd never want to hurt you - ever…”

“Why, Hermione?” Harry asked her slowly and expectantly, even though it was obvious. “Why would you never want to hurt me?”

“Are you daft?” she managed to joke through her tears. “It's because I love you…I always have loved you...”

Harry fell silent for a moment, but not because he was taken aback. He let what he heard sink in slowly and beautifully. It was the sweetest phrase he had heard Hermione say to him - ever. It was the phrase that he'd never forget in his life, and he beamed at her.

“But Harry,” Hermione said, “you know, Willard said I'm still dangerous with the Serum still working on me…”

“So?”

“So that means whenever there would be Death Eaters around, I could be told to hurt anyone around, especially you. I don't want that to ever happen at all. I don't want to wake up one time and see you dead in front of me…it's just too scary to think about…”

“We'll find a way how to solve that…Willard said his friend almost made an anti-serum…”

“But that's still an indefinite proposition…so I think we must be separated for a while, for your safety!”

“Hermione, please…” Harry said, looking sadly at her. “I need you…”

“But I'm still dangerous, Harry!” she said, looking extremely disappointed about the fact. “Especially for you! I could still hurt you, you know? I don't want to hurt you because I love you! Since I love you we must go apart for awhile! That doesn't make any sense at all…but can't you understand that?” she stood up, walked a few steps from Harry, stopped and looked away from him, holding her tears still on her eyes.

Harry stood up a while later, moved over behind her back, and placed both his hands on her shoulder. Suddenly he spun her around and grabbed her chin gently to make her look straight in his eyes. “Yes, I understand,” he whispered. “I understand that I love you even if you're very, very dangerous.”

“H-Harry,” she started, but fell silent when her lips met Harry's.

Hermione resisted gently for a while but she then fell for Harry's spell completely. She moved her head forward to tighten her kiss back to him. This spell was more powerful for her to resist than the serum and she let Harry's love flow inside her. She lifted her arms to embrace his neck and shoulders, and one of her legs rose up behind her from the floor.

Harry, meanwhile, never wanted to let go of her. He thought they could go on like this forever. Hermione's kiss was the most wonderful sensation he had felt in his whole life. It was like charm conjured by her over him a thousand times over. This is one magic he knew that never needed a wand in hand. Harry tightened his embrace on Hermione's waist, and they shifted their heads to another direction. Whichever way they kissed, it was like something fresh and wonderful for both of them. Finally, their lips separated and they stared at each other's eyes.

“H-Harry - what am I ever going to do with you?”

Harry smiled. “Just say you'll stay with me…”

“Even if can still hurt you without my knowing it?”

“Yes…” he said sincerely. It was true that Hermione was still a threat to anyone against Voldemort - that is, only when Death Eaters or Voldemort would remember to activate the possession serum, Harry thought. But she was his friend, and she needed his help. They needn't be separated for now. They needed each other now more than ever to survive during this time of their hardship. They had no other option but to escape Xanthius. Harry was confident they could find ways to go around the problem of Hermione - as simple as giving her some earmuffs transfigured from something else. He could make it pink and fluffy if he wanted to. If there's a will, there's always something they could think of.

“Am I still your girlfriend then?” asked Hermione, which touched Harry very much.

“Not only that, you're my true love,” he whispered. Hermione's smile faded when Harry moved his head nearer to her again and they kissed once more.

Just then Willard came around the bend in the tunnel. “Harry I…oh!” he said, squinting.

Harry and Hermione broke apart quickly and both faced Willard, looking red in the face, though they shifted awkwardly on the spot.

Willard chuckled. “Uh, sorry about, uh, disturbing you in a - brilliant moment if you know what I mean…”

“Oh, not at all,” Harry said, and Hermione punched an elbow on his side. “Ow, we were just talking…”

“Uhuh,” Willard said, with a wide grin on his face. “I hope you've already `talked' about it, about what's bothering you. Just so you know, you're invited to our last supper before we start our breakout at midnight.”

“What're we having?” Harry said, feeling his stomach growl. He suddenly felt embarrassed asking about it.

“Nothing fancy - just he the last of the loaf bread we gathered from our past prison meals.

“Better than nothing,” Hermione said sincerely.

“Are you kidding? But I want steak!” Willard said, “Boy, I miss steak…see you in a little while.” He walked back towards the main cave.

Harry and Hermione laughed when Willard was out of sight.

“Are you okay now?” Harry asked her gently after a moment of silence, looking at her concernedly.

“I-I guess so…a bit,” she said. “But I know as long as you're at my side, I'll be all right. I just hope they won't tell me to hurt you again…”

“If you're really concerned about that, maybe I could configure something into an earmuff for you to wear…”

“Hey, that's a good idea,” Hermione said brightly. “But you know, wearing earmuffs can be dangerous sometimes - I won't be able to hear anything at all. It could be a handicap…”

“Maybe we could subject it with a charm that blocks out nothing but the words “Domini”.

“Oh, I know how to do that,” she said happily. “Now, why didn't I think of that before?”

“You know what I think? I think it's beginning to become unhealthy being around scientists - you're now starting to sound like one!” he joked.

Hermione giggled, and moved closer to him again. “After so much thought, I think you're right, Harry. We still both need each other to get out of this mess. Thanks for making me see that I might not have to take full responsibility about this…”

“Because you're not,” Harry reiterated. “You have to remember that always, won't you?”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Thank you for not condemning me…”

“Sure. The first thing we're going for is to clear out of here. Then we'll worry about flushing out the serum inside you. I don't want them to keep on possessing you - it'll be hell for you if they catch you again, and I don't want that to ever happen again…even if would take my life I'll protect you…”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Why do you always think it's me who needs protecting?” she giggled. “You're as vulnerable as I am, don't you know that? I'll do the rescuing sometimes…”

“Great,” he laughed. “Then I think you now know why we shouldn't go apart at all, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied, kissing him on his cheek. “Yeah, I do. Thanks to you I now understand. I think they're waiting for us now.” They both started to walk together through the tunnel back to the main cave to rejoin Willard and the other scientists for supper arm in arm.

“Hermione, do you think Hal Rodd is thinking correctly about breaking everybody out tonight?” Harry asked while they both walked. “I mean, I don't know how he'll do it - Voldemort might have made Xanthius inescapable after we got away the last time.”

“Can we have it any other way?” Hermione groaned. “I guess we have try again or be stuck here forever. Nobody would probably come to help us out. I think it's worth the risk and it is our duty to escape. I still want to live up to a hundred years old, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life here - we might as well die trying…if we do, I want to make sure I'll die with you.”

It was a very grim thought, but Harry knew it was possible that this might be the last time they'll be together. If he had a choice, he'd rather also die trying to escape Xanthius than be stuck here forever. Hermione was right; no one was coming for them, if anyone even knew they were here. They had to face it: tonight was the night they had to do something.

-o0o-

Harry and Hermione had been the last to join everyone for supper in the main cave. Most of the surviving scientists, about less than thirty of them, including Hal, were now sitting down on the damp floor of the cave each of them now holding his own spear. Hal was handing out rations of bread to everybody.

“Hello again, Harry and Hah-mione,” said Hal, smiling. “I hope you've decided to join the club already. We're having our last supper before we start breaking out at midnight.”

“Yeah, we gave it a lot of thought,” Harry replied, offering Hermione a spot on the floor and sat down. “We don't have much of a choice - I think we'll have better success if we go with you…”

“Great, because we need all the hands we could get,” Hal grinned. “You're both the only ones here who could do magic, and I'd like to ask you to provide us some support when we charge. Is that okay?”

“Uh, sure, it's okay,” Harry said, “but I think I lost my wand…”

Hal slapped his forehead upon realizing they hadn't returned Harry's wand yet. “Oh, Bruce has it…Bruce!”

Without any more saying, Bruce took out Harry's wand from his pocket and gave it back to him.

“Oh, good,” Harry said. “Thanks.”

“But it's me who's without a wand,” Hermione said. “I left it back in the throne room…but I guess it's better that way.” Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered, “because I'm still dangerous.” She winked at him.

Hal looked confused. “I don't know what you mean by that, but it's a shame, really. Two wands would really make a big difference for us…” Hal shrugged and then walked over towards Harry and Hermione and handed them two relatively large portions.

“Hey,” Harry said, “this is twice as big as everybody else's. I think it's unfair.”

Hermione concurred and tried to divide her ration into half.

“Please, we haven't gone over with our apologies,” Hal said, gently preventing Hermione from tearing her bread further. “Besides, we all have eaten late this afternoon, and you both look you haven't had anything to eat today.”

Willard, who was a few steps away from them, gave Harry and Hermione a toothy smile while chewing his bread. Harry and Hermione hesitated, but practically everyone in the cave murmured their agreement and collectively urged them both to accept it. Harry sighed deeply and said, “Thanks”, making them all applaud with bread in their mouth. The bread was a little hard to chew and swallow, to Harry and Hermione's difficulty.

“This is the last we have,” Hal said to everyone. “So I hope it's enough for our plan for tonight. We only have a little more than an hour before we do the breakout. We'll be moving out by around ten minutes from now…”

“Hal,” Harry said tentatively.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Why're you planning to break out of Xanthius tonight? Could you wait for a much better time?”

Hal smiled and nodded his head. “After much consideration, we've decided tonight's the best time to stage the breakout,” Hal replied patiently. “We've been holding out of these tunnels for a week before you came, and we realized no help would be coming soon. Our food supplies are what's left you see. It's gone. After a day or so without food we will starve here and become weak and we'll have no more strength to even move our feet to escape. Aggravating the situation will be is - can you smell anything peculiar?”

Harry and Hermione sniffed the air. There was indeed something that smelled bad. “Yeah, what's that awful smell?”

“The stench of death,” Hal replied, making Harry and Hermione pinch their noses quickly and then look nauseous. “Many people died here in the underground in our own little war. The dead are beginning to decompose. No matter how much we try it, we can't dig the floor with our bare hands, and soon some of us may also die with disease. Even the river down below is contaminated, and perhaps the water upstream. So we really have no choice but to try tonight, while our stomachs are full and while everybody's healthy. God willing many of us will be lucky to escape the fortress, we can go on and live another day. It's worth a try, even if it means dying in our attempt. We'll take the chance.”

Every other scientist in the cave raised their spears and cheered. Harry nodded his head when he witnessed the show of unity. He couldn't deny it; he and Hermione shared their beliefs, too, so it strengthened their resolve to fight for their freedom with them. But he can't help but notice how lopsided the battle would be when the time would come they came face to face with the Death Eaters, or worse, Lord Voldemort himself. Spears against wands - it would be a massacre as Harry would foresee it. But what choice did they have? This was a desperate moment in their lives, and he knew not one of the people here saw would choose the option of giving up without a real fight. Like him and Hermione, they all wanted now and hoped for was to live on even if the prospects were very grim - their chances for success very slim. But they genuinely all had the fighting spirit flaming inside their hearts. This, alone, inspired Harry to help them out with whatever he can. These people didn't deserve to die here.

“Do you know the way out of here?” Harry asked next. Hermione nudged Harry and asked to borrow his wand for a moment, and Harry nodded distractedly.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Hal said, again patiently. “While we were locked in the dungeons, a Death Eater who seemed to have sympathized with us gave us a map of Xanthius. It's from the personal files of Daedelus Lowrie, the architect of this fortress.”

“Lowrie - I've seen him before…” Harry said. “So he's a Death Eater…”

“Was,” Hal corrected. “From what I've heard from the unknown Death Eater who we've never seen since, Lowrie turned over Xanthius to You-Know-Who while it was not fully finished. Lowrie was murdered by You-Know-Who by feeding him to the snake then after a few people had escaped when the fortress was supposed to be inescapable.”

Harry knew it was likely him who Hal was talking about, but he chose not to tell him.

Hal talked on. “Lowrie left a slew of spots that weren't subjected to magic, and we've identified a route that would give us the best chance for successfully getting away from Xanthius with the least casualties. But before we dash out to freedom, we must take into consideration that Xanthius is not the fortress itself. Its existing magic still projects a wide scope for miles around. You-Know-Who will know where we are and he'll just have his Death Eaters apparate in front of us to finish us off.

“Therefore, we agreed on a plan to raid the portal room before we emerge out of the tunnels. It contains an orb that controls the best means of transportation for the Death Eaters in and out of here. If we know how to work it right, we could open up a portal right here inside the fortress and fight our way to it if necessary. That would be the most critical part of this effort, and God forbid, the part where many of us may die. I'm sure the Death Eaters will do their damndest to prevent us from ever escaping out of here.”

“How can you get there, the portal room?” asked Hermione.

“A small task force led by me will attack whoever is guarding the portal room,” Hal said. “Right here…” he opened up the map and pointed at the spot at the center of the fortress, right at the second floor. “We're here, and my force will enter the nearest outlet to the grounds here,” he pointed next to another spot, which Harry calculated was about almost a couple hundred or so meters away from the portal room.

“That's too far away - you'll be going through a number of hallways and you might get ambushed or caught!” Harry said, looking at Hal apprehensively.

“We know, but Willard has asked us to rescue Francs because he has something very important in him - an anti-serum. He convinced me we should try not to lose him, and it might also help with our effort to commandeer the portal room. The dungeon Francs is most likely to be in is right at opposite side of the fortress, accessible by tunnel. Some of my men will snatch him, and at the same time create a diversion. We hope the Death Eaters will fall for it and concentrate on this side of the fortress while we attempt to raid the portal room. They've been wanting to eliminate us all for weeks, so they might find that a good opportunity to meet us in force - but hopefully our men there would slip out of sight and the Death Eaters will mostly be all there instead of here (the portal room side).

“After we're successful opening up the portal, my task force will be hightailing back to the tunnels and everybody will rendezvous here.” Hal pointed at the center of the structure where there was a wide and a long hallway. “We will do our best to open up the portal right next to the tunnel access in this area for us to slip through. The only danger here is that if we fail to place the portal on the spot where we want it to be, which can happen, it will open up somewhere else at any point of the fortress. Then that means we will surely be fighting to escape. This spot where we'll jump out of the tunnels is the only one we know where we can't be trapped or cornered. It's one of and connected with the main hallways, and it's the most straightforward path to any part of the fortress.” Hal sighed, and all the spear-wielding scientists looked grim.

“Where does the portal lead to?”

“We all agreed anywhere in Hogsmeade,” Willard said, winking at Harry and Hermione.

Harry gave Willard a smile and a curt nod. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” Harry asked Hal.

Hal gazed at Willard for a moment, and Harry saw Willard nod his head back at him. Hal looked back at Harry and sighed. “I was asking Willard if he'd allow you to help us, particularly to support my task force with magic. It's imperative that we succeed in operating the orb to open up the portal. He said it depends on you if you want to help us, Harry - we'll understand if you don't…”

Harry stood up from the floor and said, “I'll help you, Hal. Just tell me what to do.”

Hal nodded very happily. “Thanks, Harry - all you have to do is fend off any threats around us as much as you can. We'll have a better chance of success getting in and out to have someone do some magic directly for us.”

“Sounds okay for me,” Harry grinned. “Who's operating the orb?”

“I am,” said Bruce. “I've seen it work…”

Hermione stood up, too. “I'm going with you.”

Harry looked at her quickly with an uncertain look on his face. “But, Hermione, you don't have a wand with you…”

“Harry, I don't want to be separated from you. Didn't we just talk about it back at the tunnel? We must go together! I'll help you even without magic. I still have two hands…”

Harry, however, was very reluctant to agree with her. She was vulnerable without her wand, but he couldn't deny they agreed on not ever separating from each other while they were in this fortress. Harry began to wish they never had talked about it now that he knew what the disadvantages of this were. He looked towards Hal for an answer.

Hal just shrugged and said, “I don't mind, Harry. I know she won't be a liability, isn't she?”

“Harry, please,” Hermione said, now sounding pleadingly. “I know it's not time to get emotional, but I don't want us to go apart. I don't want to lose sight of you…we're each other's strength, aren't we?”

“Hermione…er…” Harry looked around. He didn't want to mention anything about her the threat she posed to the group because of the serum.

Some of the scientists smiled and talked in hushed tones. They seemed to start enjoying seeing a lover's quarrel start.

“Can you give us a minute?” Harry grinned at Hal. Hal nodded and Harry grabbed Hermione by her arm, albeit gently, and pulled her out of earshot from the rest.

“Hermione, but you're still dangerous,” Harry hissed. “What if some Death Eater spotted you and muttered the `D' word? Imagine what it would do to Hal's group.”

“I'm without a wand, Harry,” she argued quietly. “How can I be a threat?”

“I know, but do you think I'd ever leave you alone while you're being controlled?”

“Uhm, no?”

“That's what I'm saying,” Harry said, glancing back at Hal, who was busy discussing their plans to Bruce and his men.

“But I already took care of it, Harry.”

“How?” he said skeptically.

Hermione took out a pink fluffy earmuff for Harry to see. “I transfigured half of my bread to this using your wand like you had suggested. I've already subjected it to a charm to block out only the word `Domini'.”

Harry broke out a little smile and took a close look at the earmuff. “Does it work?”

“Yeah, try it…”

Harry placed the earmuff to cover his ears. Surprisingly it didn't really block out any sound even though he felt it cover his ears completely.

“Can you hear me, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Y-yeah…this is amazing. I didn't think it could be done…”

“It helps being a teacher's pet - especially when it's Professor Flitwick,” Hermione laughed. “Can you hear the word ---“

“The word what?” Harry said. Hermione did say something, but he didn't hear it.

Hermione took off the earmuff from his head and said. “I said can you hear the word Domini?”

Harry smiled broadly at her. She had done exactly what he thought of. And what was even more impressive is that she did the charm with a wand that was not hers.

“Now, Harry,” she said slowly. “I'm harmless. Can I go with you then?”

Harry gave it a thought and eventually he gave in. “Okay, come to think of it I'm glad to have an inspiration around.”

Hermione beamed at him and kissed him at his lips quickly. “Thanks.” They both returned to the meeting quickly.

“Well?” Hal asked them expectantly.

“Yeah, we talked about it and agreed to help you together,” Harry said. Hermione knew this wasn't what they really talked about and gave Harry a smile, which he returned.

“Splendid,” Hal said, clapping his hands once. “Willard volunteered to lead the group who'll create the diversion and rescue Francs because he feels he personally needs to make sure Francs should be rescued. He'll make a lot of noise to attract attention. I hope they could return to the tunnels before Death Eaters are all over them.”

“We'll do our best efforts to find Francs before they do…” Willard assured.

Hal nodded. “Then everybody will meet at the rendezvous point. We will make the final decision when we're all there. Willard, I hope you understand if you don't make it back in time with or without Francs we'll get out of the hole without you. Remember the portal will only be open for limited time.”

“Yes, I do,” Willard said seriously, and Harry gave him a surprised look. “I feel it's very important for me to rescue Francs - even if your men would leave me, I'll keep looking for him.”

Hal gazed down on the floor in a show of sadness.

“Willard…” Harry started.

“I know what you're thinking, Harry,” he said forlornly. “Hal needs you more than I do. The success of getting to the portal room is vital to the whole effort. Not achieving that, we'll all have failed. Please concentrate your best efforts on our primary objective, which is the portal room. Everyone's counting on your success.”

“B-but will I see you again?” Harry said. Hermione went closer beside him and hugged his arm softly, staring at him sadly.

Willard moved closer to him and placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders. He looked straight at his wide green eyes.

“Of course, Harry,” he said, “you will see me again. Please don't think you won't. I will be away while you do your stuff with Hal - but I'll do my best make it back to the group in time, I promise. Like I said, Hal needs your skills more than I do. We reckon there will be lesser guards in the dungeons, so don't worry about it. I'll be safe, thanks to the tunnels.”

Harry didn't say anything in response because he didn't know what to do or say. A big part of him wanted to help Willard with his personal task to look for and rescue Francs. Deep inside him he'd rather go with his good friend to help him rather than Hal who he just only met for a short time. He didn't know if he'll forgive himself if Willard didn't make it because he wasn't there for him, but another part of him said that Willard was right. All the hopes of survival for the group centered on their success in reaching the portal room whether he liked it or not. It was much more critical because Hal's group would be exposed on the ground rather than Willard's, which will have the benefit of underground tunnels leading towards the dungeons.

“Harry,” Willard said again, “please don't mind me and concentrate all your efforts to help Hal and his group. Harry, please, I'm asking you as your good friend.”

Harry stared at him silently, and with much effort, he agreed and nodded.

Willard smiled broadly. “Thank you, Harry. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point. I promise, okay?”

Harry nodded again and swallowed.

“Good luck, Willard,” Hermione said to him with teary eyes. Harry and Willard's conversation struck a heartstring in her.

“Thanks, Hermione,” Willard replied, and squeezed her hind neck gently. “Take care both of you, okay?”

Hal moved towards Willard and shook his hand. “Good luck, good friend,” he said. “Please do find Francs, will you? My prayers for you…”

“Yeah, we must,” Willard said, smiling back at Hal. “He's the only one who knows who can defeat this dreadful serum - he's wizardkind's best hope.”

“Yes, I know,” Hal breathed. “You better get going. Remember to count an hour from now and make the loudest ruckus you can. We'll be expecting you then soon after…”

Willard gave him another smile and a nod, and he turned on his heels to start moving followed by at least five of Hal's men.

“Willard!” Harry called, and Willard turned around to see him. Harry walked over towards him and they simultaneously hugged each other tightly. They let go a few seconds later without saying anything, and Willard walked off and disappeared.

“I see you're really good friends, Harry,” Hal said to him softly when he came back. “I know Willard can make it - he's not a total nerd like me.”

Harry glanced at Hal and made a teary laugh.

“We'll be moving out in a few minutes,” Hal told him. “Will you be ready then?”

Harry inhaled and exhaled deeply and said, “You can count on me, Hal. I'll support you any way I can.”

“Me, too,” Hermione said, moving forward a step. Her eyes met with Harry's and they both smiled back at each other. She kissed him at the cheek and said, “And that's for good luck.”

To signify their solidarity and commitment in this undertaking, Hal exchanged firm handshakes with Harry and Hermione. With a final exchange of well-wishing and good luck, Harry knew there was now no turning back. He and Hermione were all ready to fight to break free from Voldemort's clutches along with Hal and his gang. They moved out into position.

-o0o-

Chapter 20 coming soon.

Authors notes: The climax will definitely be in the next one. This chapter took too long in my view and I had to cut it somewhere where this won't look too bloated but at the same time not lacking in both information and preparation.

I felt that Harry and Hermione joining in to something immediately after being traumatized wasn't realistic, so the events needed to have some sort of a little breather. Harry, especially Hermione, needed at least little time to heal emotionally. I also needed to lay out Hal's plan so that the reader will know what would be happening around when they executed it and what they're really up to so that you won't get lost in the chaos. This one took a lot of story space. I hope I didn't create too much expectation for this chapter, which turned out to be like a letdown. Yeah, I'm so evil! If you think I've overdrawn this, please do let me know!

A review from you, of course, will be highly appreciated. You may want to take the opportunity to rant - it's okay. (grinning). As always, criticism is welcome. Thanks very much for your continued interest in this story. Thanks!

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21. Scissors Against Rocks

Update Dec.21,2004 10:30am (+8:00GMT): I hope I can post the next chapter within the next three days. It is still incomplete (7,500+ words and counting) and will undergo several edits to improve the flow. The next one will be the last regular chapter and there will be a long epilogue after that in the form of an additional chapter in Portkey. Sorry for the delay. Thank you.

Author's note: Thanks very much for waiting for this new chapter. I know I'm long overdue for an update and this took longer to be posted than average, sorry about that. But I hope this chapter will be worth your wait and I hope you'll enjoy it.

Thanks very much to PottersPrincess, Musique, and LadyBlazey, for your valuable reviews!

I forgot to thank RetroRose for the his/her review of the previous chapter, and for pointing out the specific mix-up with the uploaded chapters. Without that, I would have never known what Andy B meant before about the problem. Thanks!!!

Whrrrrr… (that's the sound of the reel spinning).

Please Note: This chapter contains depictions of violence.

Chapter 20

Scissors Against Rocks

Harry watched Hal and the rest of his little band of warriors as they sat down to have the chance to relax before moving out. (They were still in their cave - Willard and some other scientists assigned with him have already left a few minutes ago ahead of them.) Harry could see on the faces of the scientists that they were visibly fretful about what was to come in just a short while. They didn't look tough to Harry in any way - that wasn't surprising for him at all. They were just scientists. They were trained and used to handle test tubes and chemistry sets most of their lives, not spears or crude sharp objects to fight some enemy.

But Harry had to hand it to them - even though they were mostly geeky, they were willing to shed that trait for a while to take up arms against Voldemort. They were determined to fight break free from his captivity. The common dictum of “liberty or death” rang throughout each of their minds.

What was more striking was that they seemed to have put their full trust on their leader, Hal. Harry had never heard them complain or whine about anything for the short time he had been with them. They had accepted Hal's authority without question. He had found that truly amazing for it was a small feat for Hal to apparently have success in leading a group of intelligent people like them collectively. Harry knew that stereotypically, people like these had the natural inclination to push for his own “better” idea and might try to overrule Hal with his, but they hadn't.

That was probably the easy part. Their resolve and discipline would be put to the ultimate test in a few minutes.

“Harry, what's wrong?” Hermione whispered. She sat beside him on a spot on the floor away from Hal and his men.

Harry glanced at her with a smile and returned his gaze to the group of scientists talking themselves out of their anxiety. He replied in a hushed tone, “I don't know…just by watching them, I have a bad feeling about what we're going to do.”

Hermione looked around and nodded. “I just about feel the same thing as you do. Do you think they're up to it?”

“To tell you the truth,” Harry hissed, “I think they don't, but we can never be too sure. They're desperate - they know they won't last long here, so I think that's what drives them. I just hope they know how to use those bats and pointy spears they're holding - but they're a pretty disciplined and will follow Hal's orders from the looks of it. I hope they could still carry that out when the pressure's proving to be too much.”

Hermione nodded, and she wore a worried look on her face. She took another good look at the scientists, but dropped it and hugged Harry's arm tightly. She didn't know if the people whose faces that rapidly embedded in her mind would be dead or alive after this was all over. And that reminded her of the possibility that they won't survive this encounter at all, too. She and Harry hadn't gone to know what their names were, but it was perhaps a good thing. Getting attached to them would hurt much more so if, Heaven forbid, they were killed in the fight. All together, it was not the best time to be pessimistic when her life and Harry's was on the line, but she was only human and they had to get ready for anything.

To take the time off to wait for their next move out and remove their thoughts about these things, Harry and Hermione talked about what would be happening with the Wizard world now that Voldemort had announced his return by revealing his Dark Fortress to everyone. The only bright thing they could think of was what to make of Cornelius Fudge who had adamantly denied and stifled any talk of Voldemort's existence and Xanthius.

“He's probably gone into hiding from an angry mob right now,” Harry said, managing to laugh this time.

“Serves him right,” Hermione grunted. “Now everybody knows who's telling the truth, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “After all the false talk and measures he imposed. I wonder if he'll pardon the people he ordered arrested some weeks ago.”

“He has to. He doesn't have much choice - I'm sure he's been disgraced already. I just wish he resigns and let other people do his job…”

“Right,” Harry said. He looked at Hermione for a moment. “You look like you don't have something with you to use…”

Hermione nodded. “If you mean I'm unarmed then that's true,” she groaned. “I dropped my wand back there in the throne room and there aren't spare wands here at all. I looked everywhere!”

“D'you want me to ask them to give you your own spear - or do you prefer a small club?” Harry offered, jerking his head towards Hal.

Hermione looked frightened. “Uh, no, I don't want to kill anyone at all - even Death Eaters, mind. Disgusting - but I don't mind them using it for themselves. They're just Squibs. Spears and sticks against magic. I guess they wouldn't do much damage against the Death Eaters even if they were pretty accurate. If I were them, the Death Eaters, and a spear came zooming my way, I'll just yell `Repulso'.” She shrugged. “But it's better than nothing, right? I don't know - but maybe these folks have a fighting chance if they do it right. I hope the Death Eaters would get stupid…”

Harry took out his wand and showed it to Hermione. “Want to use my wand? You're better with magic than me, I think…”

Hermione she looked grateful to Harry for offering his, but gently declined. “No, thanks. It's your wand, and you can do proper magic with it - I can't. Besides, you're getting much better with Defense. I'll just be your extra eyes at the back…I'll warn you of what's coming from behind you.”

Harry nodded and smiled at her, but he sure did wish she hadn't lost her wand. Being her lookout was a big help, but if she had her wand with her, too, they could do better and wonderful things together.

They listened in to a few snippets of conversation between some scientists. One of them said, “No, no, no, don't use it like a knife - you do a thrust forward with both hands…if you could bend your legs forward while doing it, it'll be much better.”

Another one snapped back, “No, I've seen this on the telly one time. This guy broke his stick in two and used both sticks to knock the bad guys cold…it looked pretty easy…”

“Forget it - you can't even raise your legs higher than you belly. Just remember what Hal taught us - you're watching too much Bruce Lee, Richard,” said his companion.

Hermione looked suddenly troubled again. “H-Harry,” she whispered after a few moments of silently observing the scientists.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said back then when we fought the Oarling?” she said, putting her head on his shoulder.

Harry nodded and pressed his cheek on Hermione's forehead, and she could feel her shudder.

“I said that you and Ron are the best things that ever happened in my life,” she sighed. “I'm not marginalizing Ron in any way, but I'm glad I got to know you - you're so special to me, you've always been…”

Harry knew why Hermione wanted to say that. It showed she was beginning to have some doubts again of the outcome this adventure after hearing the scientists bicker about the proper way to use their spears. She wanted to make sure she'd say everything she wanted to say to him before, well, before she might die for real. Harry, however, wished she didn't have to entertain that kind of thinking. He wanted her to be strong. He wanted her to stand up to extreme adversity, which will surely come staring down on their faces later, with a stiff lower lip.

“I love you, Hermione,” Harry whispered, kissing her forehead. “I really do…”

“I love you, too, Harry,” she replied softly, hugging his arm more tightly.

“I'd really want us to spend more time together after this breakout, to get to know each other more deeply and I know you'd wish for the same thing. Do you believe we both deserve it?”

Hermione paused for a little while to think about it, and eventually nodded.

“Me, too,” Harry sighed, “Me, too. But Voldemort seems to have no other wish for us but to die in one form or another - would you like to give him the satisfaction?”

Hermione breathed, and she blew hot air out of her nostrils heavily. Now that she thought about that again, she had learned how to hate Voldemort after what he had done to her. He didn't have the right to dictate what to make of with their lives. She had now appreciated how Harry looked at him since their first year - before that she trembled at the sound of his name. But not this time. The new hatred she now felt for Voldemort underscored her courage to stand up to him the next time they met.

“I think you're right, Harry,” she said. “I don't why, but I was a little gung-ho minutes ago and I kind of drifted off for a moment…”

“You almost snuffed it a few times before this, and I think you're getting used to it, it might be nothing…” Harry said but paused abruptly.

Hermione stared at him. “How can you say that, Harry?”

“Sorry…” Harry gulped. “I didn't know what I was thinking.”

Hermione, however, laughed.

“What's so funny?” Harry said, not knowing if he had to smile about this.

“Forget it…I know you're just trying very hard to make me feel better and strong,” she said. “Very hard you don't know what you're saying.” She laughed again. “But thanks…and thanks for being my hero, Harry. I trust you very much with my life…”

“You're very much welcome,” he replied, inhaling deeply and beaming at her. It was only natural for him to keep her strong when she was weak. He didn't want to make her feel alone and defenseless. She was Hermione, and she was more than his best friend. She was now half of him. He can't afford to lose her, and when he'd show weakness to her she'd grow weak, too, they'll both suffer. Without her he knew he'll feel very worthless. They had to be strong together, to rely on each other's strength especially when facing apparently insurmountable odds like escaping Xanthius for a second time. Harry knew Voldemort may have learned his lesson the last time they slipped out of his fingers and would make it difficult the next time around to attempt the same thing. If not difficult, it could prove impossible.

After thinking about that, Harry admitted he couldn't blame Hermione for feeling beleaguered then and run out of hope. It was as if they were now spending the last moments of their life together. He didn't know what would happen after they moved out - anything can. So it was this that he tightened his embrace with her, squeezed her hand, and hope for the best for both of them, and for certain degree, the people around them. One last good long kiss from her was the thing he wanted to have with her, and Hermione gave it to him readily.

“Stay with me,” Harry said, after they ended their kiss. “No matter what happens we must be together…I promise I will never leave you.”

Hermione nodded, her brown eyes locked on Harry's green ones. “I'll stay with you - but know this…I won't die for you, Harry - I will live for you…”

Harry then felt a tear pour down his cheek. It was these words that gave him a reason to live on rather than die trying. “Same here, Hermione. Same here…”

“It's time to move, Harry,” Hal said after he crouched beside him and Hermione. “I'm sure Willard and the others are almost where they needed to be. Are you both ready?”

Harry and Hermione didn't take their gaze away from each other when they both smiled and nodded.

“Let's go,” Hal said gently and finally. “We'll have a little walk towards the rendezvous point, and we'll leave for the portal room.” Harry and Hermione stood up from the floor.

“Okay,” Harry said, walking abreast with Hal in the narrow tunnel, Hermione's hand in tow. “I'll support you in any way I can, Hal.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Hal said, smiling at him. “We're all counting on you. Your skills will make a huge difference for us.”

For a fifteen year-old, Harry was really grateful that Hal and Willard recognized what good his contribution for this effort could bring. Other people would most likely discount the skills of kids around his age because they'd always think that he was `too young to do a man's job' and insist that he stay way back from the action. But they didn't and they trusted him. It was this more than anything else that made Harry strive to do the best and all he can to make this thing succeed.

The way towards the rendezvous point was hot and humid because of the narrow single tunnel that led to it. The air around them was getting hard to breath due to the lessening amount of oxygen. Hal instructed everybody except for the people he would bring to the portal room to stand by and wait for them. Harry saw a freshly dug part of the tunnel with a stone ceiling about seven feet high, ready to be broken apart. A makeshift ladder was pre-positioned just under it to allow them to emerge out on whatever part of the fortress on top of them was. But that had to wait until Hal came back from the portal room to give the “go” signal. It was pointless to move out now when they had no means to exit the fortress.

Except for Harry and Hermione, there were about seven people in Hal's little group to raid the portal room. Hal thought that having more than that would probably prove counter productive as it was pretty difficult to order around a larger group of people when something went awry. There was also a danger of being ambushed on the way and if he brought everybody along, they would all be wiped out.

The walk to their emergence point took several minutes. Everyone was sweating, but they didn't take off their robes because they knew how cooler it was when they got to ground floor level. Harry saw the end of the dug tunnel up ahead and they stopped when they reached it.

“This was as far as we could afford to dig,” Hal explained to Harry. He took out his map of Xanthius. “We're about right here,” he said, pointing to one part of the map, “and the portal room is about more than a hundred meters away from where we'll pop out. We'll be going through a lot of hallways and pathways so things might become confusing. Just stick with me and you won't get lost - I've memorized the way to and back.”

Harry and Hermione nodded at him, and they gripped their hands together even more tightly. Harry took out his wand.

“Ready, everyone?” Hal asked the group and they all nodded with teeth gritted. “Right, then, let's move out quietly. Remember we must minimize any form encounter from anyone whenever possible - be it Death Eaters or other creatures. Speak out only when absolutely necessary.”

Bruce took out his knife and pried the loose wooden planks on top of him off its mount. Harry and everybody welcomed and breathed the fresh air that wafted in towards the tunnel. Harry volunteered to be the first one out of the hole on the floor; he looked around, wand pointed at the ready. Harry saw that he was in a gloomy corridor adorned by paintings of sleeping dark wizards on wooden walls. He warned Hal about this, and he nodded.

Harry waited for a few seconds and there was no one in sight and he heard no sound of footsteps nearby. Quietly he climbed to the ground floor and crouched, still looking around for any threat. He beckoned everyone out of the hole - Hermione went next, then Hal, and the rest of the group.

“Okay,” Hal whispered and pointed to the north. “That way - move quietly. Don't wake the paintings up…” He led the way to the end of the corridor where a single door was. He opened it, and peered out. There was no one around.

They navigated through a few more connecting hallways and rooms. Hal really knew where to go, and Harry and Hermione felt lost already. The amazing thing was there were no guards around. Harry didn't know if that was a good thing because it was mighty peculiar when the Death Eaters weren't on alert when there were escaped prisoners around who were potentially dangerous for them.

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Harry hissed at Hal, but he merely nodded back at him. Hal was busy concentrating on the route towards the portal room in his mind. They passed through more halls and alleyways and soon they were upon a double wooden door in a large hall lit by many torches. Hal signaled everyone to crouch low, taking out his map.

“The next room will be a long hallway, bounded by rooms,” Hal said quietly, pointing at the spot on the map. “At the end of it will be the portal room - it's this large room right here. I don't know how many people are guarding it, so we must be ready to fight if needed be.”

Everybody understood, breathed, and nodded their head at Hal. Hal tucked the folded map, stood upright and opened the two doors slowly. He peeked into the open gap between the door and saw the other door at the end of the long hallway open. There were several other doors flanking the hallway, and he didn't have any idea what the other rooms there were right here. He saw some shadows moving about the portal room.

Hal looked back at the group and said, “The room's got Death Eaters inside them - I don't know how many. Let's stick to the walls…Harry, you stay with me…”

Hal moved in first and Harry followed next with Hermione. They quickly flitted to the wall to their left - with their eyes fixed on the open door at the end of the hallway, they moved forward. The last man in the group closed the double door behind him.

Halfway towards the end, they heard excited talk and shouting from inside the portal room. Hermione gripped Harry's arm tightly. The talk grew more urgent, and the shadows long dark shadows from inside went frantic.

Hal looked back to his group and said as quietly but urgently as he could, “Quick, inside this room!” Hal opened the door behind him - luckily it was open. He urged everyone in quickly with his eyes staring apprehensively back at the portal room doorway. When the last man of the group went in the room he had chosen, Hal closed the door in time before the first Death Eater had gone out of it. It was dark inside the room they got in but no one wanted to turn on the lights for obvious reasons. The only light they got was from the corridor projected from the bottom of the door.

Harry pointed his wand towards it in the dark, ready to curse the first Death Eater to barge in, but the sound of running footsteps and anxious talk went harmlessly past them. He counted at least more than ten sets of feet running out of the hallway, and soon it was silent again. They all decided to wait for a little while before getting out of the room again just in case there were still others who'd follow, and all the sound they heard were the crackling of the fire from outside and of their breathing.

“Looks like the diversion's on,” Hal mused quietly. “Willard's on the move…”

Suddenly, they heard a toilet flushing, and hurriedly went out a lone Death Eater from an adjacent bathroom. The Death Eater had gone a few feet from the bathroom door when he realized he was not alone in the room anymore. He stared at every face that was illuminated by the bathroom light, and he failed to act instantly. Harry didn't know who was more surprised - the Death Eater or them as neither side made the first move. It was only then that a commotion ensued after everyone had snapped off from their shock.

The Death Eater tried to draw out his wand, but Harry got to him first by bellowing “Expelliarmus!” The Death Eater flew back violently from the force of the disarming spell, losing hold of his wand. He hit the floor hard on his back but he ignored the pain. He quickly found his wand just beside him and pointed it to the first person he saw. An errant curse flew when Hal snatched the wand from his hand, and it ricocheted a few times in the room though harmlessly.

Hal moved in quickly from behind the struggling Death Eater and locked his arms around the Death Eater's neck. In an instant, Hal twisted the Death Eater's head. With a sickening crack he broke his neck, killing him instantly. Hermione covered her eyes too late to prevent herself from witnessing a murder.

Hal breathed heavily and he took a long time to let go of the Death Eater's head. Harry and the other scientists stared at him, shocked to see what he had done. Sensing everyone's stare around him, Hal explained, “I had to do it…lest he'll kill one of us. I know that these Death Eaters won't spare your life at all…that's why they called that.”

There was a moment of silence and everybody eventually murmured in acceptance of Hal's actions, all except for Hermione and to a lesser degree, Harry. Harry had seen Cedric Diggory get murdered by Voldemort the past year, but seeing someone get killed by another one's bare hands was quite more disturbing than seeing it done by magic (though it was a grisly act for him just the same). But Harry knew Hal had no choice but to do it - unlike Voldemort who killed for pleasure, Hal did it for survival and the safety of his companions. His act somehow helped his fellow scientists accept that the fact that they had to do such a violent thing and not to take long to think about it when their lives were on the line.

Trying to ignore what she had seen a while before, Hermione asked Hal for the Death Eater's wand. “C-can I have his wand, please, Hal?” she said, trembling a little. She couldn't help but look at the lifeless face of the Death Eater. He wasn't wearing his mask, but she didn't know who this particular wizard was.

“Yeah, sure, I think this'll be useful for you,” Hal replied, handing the wand over to her.

“Thanks. One good thing this little encounter has brought us is another wand,” she added. “I'm against any form of killing, but that Death Eater didn't deserve to live, Hal. I'm ready to go again…”

Hal smiled gratefully at her and said, “Thank you - yes, I guess one less Death Eater in this world would be good for all of us but I really don't take any pleasure killing anyone. C'mon, we've wasted some precious time with this bloke - we still have to get to that portal room.”

“How many Death Eaters d'you think are left inside there?” Harry asked when they moved for the door.

“I don't know,” Hal replied. “But we should act fast and put them out of action before we play with the orb…I suggest we charge quickly from here - any objections?”

Nobody voiced any opposition and Hal nodded, knowing what his proposal meant for everyone. “Okay, don't hesitate to kill if necessary - remember, it's either you or them, understand?”

“Wait, I have an idea,” Harry said, and began removing the Death Eater's robe and mask. He then started to wear them. “I'll go in first with this, and you all barge in at once from behind me.”

“Good thinking,” Hal said, grinning at Harry. “That'll put them off guard for a few critical seconds…C'mon, let's move.”

They all filed out of the room to the hallway quietly and faced the door at the end. Harry, disguised as a Death Eater, breathed and began walking towards it. Hermione followed closely behind him with Hal and the other scientists. Within feet from the door, Harry hastened his pace and he had gotten inside the portal room in a would-be casual manner.

The portal room was a large, windowless, and carpeted room. To the left of the doorway was the blue shimmering orb that controlled the only means of transportation from the outside world to Xanthius was held by a pedestal in the middle on top of a square platform, and about four Death Eaters were standing just a few feet from it. At first, they thought Harry was one of them who had gone in the portal room, but they skipped a breath when they saw Hermione and Hal with angry-looking spear-wielding and club-brandishing men right behind Harry charging toward them.

“Stupefy!” Harry bellowed.

“Repulso!” Hermione said a split second later.

Two Death Eaters had already fallen within the first two seconds of the encounter. The last remaining two had managed to raise their wands and curse one of Hal's men and he fell to the floor. The other curse slammed against the wooden wall, exploding it and sending wild splinters and thick dust flying around the room. Some scientists were injured with the blast; Hermione slipped and landed painfully on the floor. Harry, however, kept his balance and attention towards the remaining Death Eaters. Hal and the scientists kept charging, and the two Death Eaters felt they were about to be overwhelmed and tried to flee to a more secure spot in the room for cover.

“Lartigo!” Harry shouted. His electrical whip caught one of the escaping Death Eaters and electrocuted him unconscious. The last Death Eater tried to curse his pursuers behind him blindly, but a spear flew from one of the scientists, hitting him at the back, and the spear went through his chest. Harry grimaced at the sight of it - even the scientist who threw the spear gawked soundlessly in the middle of floor after realizing what he had done. The Death Eater croaked for the last time, his chest on the floor, and he died.

Harry removed his disguise and looked for Hermione. She was all right and he helped her up from floor but she had her full attention to the lifeless body of the Death Eater a few feet ahead of her.

“You okay, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine - I just avoided being hit by that curse and slipped,” she replied, brushing off wood splinters and dust from her robes and hair. “But, you know, I've never seen this much killing upfront in my whole life…” she moaned.

“Me, too,” Harry said, and he looked around when he heard a grunting sound.

“Martin's dead,” announced Bruce who had checked on the fallen scientist. He stood up and cursed, scratching the back of his head while other members of Hal's group bowed their heads in sadness. Hal, Harry, and Hermione looked at Martin's dead body speechlessly. He was their first casualty ever.

Hal inhaled a large amount of air in his lungs and proceeded to the orb at once. “C'mon, let's not make Martin's death all for naught…he would've wanted us to succeed. We have more work to do - Bruce…”

Bruce strode up the raised platform to stand in front of the orb while the other scientists proceeded to straighten Martin's body to a more dignified posture. Hermione, meanwhile, went over to the unconscious Death Eaters and conjured ropes to tie them up securely. She kept avoiding seeing the two dead bodies while she did so, especially the Death Eater's on his own pool of blood.

Harry stood just beside Hal and Bruce at the platform to observe them. He could see the layout of the fortress from inside the orb, and Bruce placed both hands on it, concentrating hard.

“Open the portal up just twenty feet from where we'll get out from the underground,” Hal instructed.

“Yeah,” Bruce grunted. “I'm t-trying.” Harry, however, thought that Bruce couldn't do it as no portal had appeared on the orb.

“Please hurry up!” Hal urged after a full minute had passed. Bruce was sweating and shaking heavily as he stared and increased his concentration at the brightening orb. “C'mon, c'mon…”

Hermione walked over towards the double door. She then looked back and wore an anxious look on her face. “I think someone's coming at the end of the hallway!”

Harry dropped observing Hal and Bruce and ran toward Hermione. She pointed out where she saw some movement and Harry spotted some shadows moving about at the end of the hallway, apparently Death Eaters going towards them. He looked back to Hal and said, “Hurry up! They're coming!”

“A-Almost there…” Bruce muttered. His eyeballs literally protruded out of his sockets and it was extremely bloodshot; his face looked like a madman with his teeth gritted hard. “Almost there….”

Several Death Eaters had alighted at the end of the hallway and ran towards the portal room. Harry and Hermione knew what to do and shot a few curses to stop them - a couple of them fell down to the floor but the Death Eaters had sent their own volley of curses. Hermione saw the Harry was recklessly exposed almost at the middle of the doorway and she grabbed the back of his robes to take him in for cover behind the wall. If she hadn't done so he would've been hit.

“Thanks!” he said to her, and he peered out again from behind the doorway to send out his own spells.

A heavy volume of curses from the Death Eaters went through the doorway and slammed inside the portal room, breaking down walls and torches. Luckily, no one was hit or injured. Hermione put out the fire on the floor with gushes of water with her wand. Harry glanced at Bruce, and he was glad he hadn't broken up his concentration despite the shock and noise. When he looked back in the hallway, the Death Eaters had covered almost half of its length. He didn't know if he could hold this out much longer and resumed shooting curses.

Bruce suddenly collapsed from the platform and on to the floor!

“Bruce!” Harry shouted.

“No, no. I'm okay, it's done!” he panted, and several scientists ran over to him to help him.

Hal hurriedly read the orb to determine where Bruce had placed the portal. His shoulders dropped, suggesting that something was wrong but he didn't seem to dwell on that and ran towards Harry and Hermione to see what the situation was. Harry and Hermione had apparently succeeded in delaying the Death Eaters' advance - they were stuck halfway through the hallway now down flat on their chests and using their fallen friends' unconscious bodies for cover. There were still more Death Eaters out there than what was left of Hal's group, including Harry and Hermione.

“The portal's not where I've wanted it, but it's better than nothing,” Hal said, peeking out of the doorway. “We must go now - there might be more Death Eaters coming after this lot and that would be bad…”

“But we're trapped inside of this room with no way out but that way,” Harry said, firing off a few curses. “We can't risk it…if we all charge out of here we'll be all wiped out!”

Hal pursed his lips. The rest of the scientists back at the tunnels were waiting for him. They had to get out of here fast.

“Wait, I've got an idea,” Hermione said. “But I can only this spell once - it demands too much strength from a witch like me even with my proper wand and…”

“Just do it!” Harry urged Hermione.

“Okay, watch this,” she grinned. Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated hard. She made a very elaborate wave of her wand, pointed it out of the hallway, and bellowed, “Liggid Battor!”

“Whoa!” Harry exclaimed. A very large round boulder, which covered the hallway from floor to ceiling, suddenly appeared in front of them. Hermione swung her wand again, pointed it to the boulder, and said, “Flipendo!”

A thick beam of red light zoomed out of her wand and hit the boulder. It began to roll away from them and on to the path of the Death Eaters! Harry could hear panicked screaming from the other side of the boulder when it went rumbling down toward them. The Death Eaters were now probably trying to outrun it.

Harry saw the opportunity to run through the hallway safely if they followed the rolling boulder closely behind it. “Hal - let's make a break for it out of here!” he yelled back. Hal nodded and beckoned all of his men out of the portal room - they all ran quickly out of there. Harry looked around for Hermione and he saw her dropping down to one knee on the floor, her hand on her head.

“Hermione, you okay?” he said, running back to her and helping her up.

“Yeah, j-just suddenly felt weak after that big spell…” she groaned. “That cost more than half of my mana for today…one more of that and I'll be out cold.”

“That was excellent,” he said, and Hermione stood up.

“Exceptional spell, Hermione,” Hal said to her. “Those Death Eaters were like helpless pins being run over by a large bowling ball!”

Hermione beamed at him, and she saw all the Death Eaters they had fought earlier now lying flat on the floor unconscious after being rolled over by the large boulder, which had already vanished. The path was clear, and she grinned once more with extreme satisfaction.

“Wait…” Harry said before they moved. He looked back at the portal room and pointed his wand toward the double doors to close them. When both doors slammed shut, Harry conjured a few planks and nailed them magically across the doorway to seal it.

“Good idea, Harry,” Hermione said.

The other scientists had reached the other end and signaled the coast was clear and they beckoned Harry and Hal to hurry up. As soon as they reached the rest of the group, skipping over the unconscious Death Eaters, everybody hurried up to retrace their steps back to the tunnel where they came from. They had already entered the maze of hallways when they heard more running footsteps from within the last room they had been.

“I hear more of them coming behind us,” Harry said anxiously. “They might be going for the portal room…”

“If we go deeper back through where we came, they will lose us,” Hal said confidently, though he took up the pace.

Hal was right - it was easy to get lost in the labyrinth of pathways and soon Harry didn't hear anything from behind them at all. They had slipped away into relative safety, and for the first time since it all started Harry had breathed a sigh of relief. But it wasn't over yet.

That was just the start and they still had to fight their way out to reach the portal wherever it was, if indeed Bruce hadn't managed to place it near where they wanted. Harry then thought it was entirely possible that the Death Eaters had discovered the open portal and were already guarding it. That would make their last encounter out of the portal room seem like a walk in the park.

At last they had reached the hole to the tunnels from where they came and hoping the Death Eaters had not found it yet, they all entered it. They had all survived this dangerous task minus one of them.

The trip back to the rendezvous point in the tunnels took some more time but the good thing was that they hadn't encountered any Death Eaters who would've investigated the tunnels along the way. When Hal and company had reached it, several anxious looking scientists cheered upon seeing them. Harry and Hermione settled down to sit on the ground to take a short breather.

“We thought you didn't make it,” an anxious looking scientist told Hal. “We were getting very worried…”

“We met some resistance on the way back,” Hal told them. “Kelly Martin's dead.”

Everyone went silent and it was deafening. Harry thought that their fallen colleague was pretty popular around with the guys. He didn't know how that would affect their morale.

“He fought bravely,” Hal added. “We had to leave him to get back to you - I was pretty worried I can't reach you. It looked like it we couldn't, but thanks to Harry and Hermione here with their magic, we've succeeded in opening the portal and we've escaped.”

Despite their feeling of loss for their friend Martin, all the scientists clapped their hands in applause and appreciation for Harry and Hermione. Harry, however, craned his neck to look for any sign of Willard - he wasn't around.

“The diversionary team had not checked in yet,” reported a scientist. “I don't think they made it…”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with deepening concern.

Hal looked extremely disappointed. He looked at his watch and said, “We can't wait for them any longer. We must move out and fight our way out now or the portal closes in less than twenty minutes, I reckon. The Death Eaters, I assume, have already found it and they'd be guarding it heavily. They probably know why the portal's open, and they might be ready for us. That's the worse case, and we can't afford to be complacent. We have to be ready to fight.”

Hal then looked at Harry slowly who looked very upset. “Harry, you know we must - and we need your help with this. I'm sorry about Willard, but without you…and Hermione's magic…we're all going to perish before we go within a few feet of the portal. Can we count on you once more?”

Harry tightened his lips. He strongly wished Willard could join them; Harry didn't want to leave him yet but Hal really needed all the magic he could get to escort all of the scientists out to freedom. Careful not to let Hal notice his reluctance, he nodded his head.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You and Hermione had done very well back there beyond my highest expectations. I hope you both still have the strength for the next stage.”

“Yeah, we're ready to help you as much as we can,” Hermione assured, standing up from the ground at last for another round. She looked at Harry next and said, “Are we, Harry?”

“That's right,” he replied.

Hal nodded gratefully and turned back to his men. “I'm telling the truth that my foremost concern now is to take all of you out through the portal - even if I die in the process. But I'm afraid that some of us might not make it. The portal wasn't where I planned it to be - it's been moved back a hundred meters or so from out of our exit hole but it will still be visible from where we'll end up ahead.”

Almost all of the scientists groaned in disappointment and growing unease.

“We only have to run a little farther to reach it, and fight towards it if necessary,” Hal went on. “I'm very, very sorry about this. We should've done better. But we mustn't blame Bruce for not putting it near our starting point because the pressure was just too high for him to produce the portal back at the portal room. For a man who's almost a Squib, it's a very remarkable feat for him to operate the orb.”

“Yeah!” shouted a scientist at the back, and everybody roared in agreement.

Hal breathed and looked around all the men in front of him. “I just want to take this precious opportunity to tell you that it's been great working with you all. Thank you for agreeing to go against You-Know-Who and trusting me to be your leader. It's been a privilege to serve you. Good luck, everyone, and God speed. Meet you all at the other side…”

Everyone gave Hal a thunderous cheer, and they beat the end of their spears and clubs on the ground to reiterate their desire to break free from Voldemort's slavery and to signify their tremendous appreciation for Hal's efforts to facilitate their escape. Tears of pride then fell from Hal's eyes, which Harry had spotted.

Harry and Hermione felt goose bumps - it was a very touching and morale-boosting scene for both of them. They both kissed and hugged each other for good luck.

Harry then offered Hal a handshake and he took it happily. “It's been a pleasure fighting alongside you, Hal,” Harry said.

“The feelings mutual,” he replied. “You're sounding that this is the end for us - I beg you please - don't,” he said, grinning.

Harry nodded and laughed. “Of course!”

Hal looked back and his men and whirled a finger up in the air. “Let's roll!”

All the scientists cheered again, and they now held their crude weapons with both hands. Bruce climbed up the ladder and looked down at Hal for his signal. Hal nodded, and Bruce pounded the wooden plank on top of him loose.

Harry volunteered to be the first one to get out after Bruce, and when he got to the ground floor up above, he looked around for any sign of Death Eaters. There weren't any. He beckoned Hal to come climb up the ladder quickly.

“Go, go!” Hal said to his men, and one by one the scientists went up the ladder and out of the hole.

Harry noticed that they were now in a wide, long hall with a very high ceiling. The hall was lit by torch lights mounted on the stone masonry walls and some chandeliers. He surmised this was situated at the center of Xanthius, though there were no doors leading to any other room except for two large access ways at each end of the hallway. The access way behind him was closed by a single wooden barrier of the same size, but the far end was open. A little beyond that lay the portal, a green glowing cavity of physical space, shimmering at a single room at end of the far access way. It was waiting for them to cross it.

Again Harry found it strange this part of the fortress was devoid of Death Eaters, but he hoped at the same time that were truly alone and that everyone can escape without any encounter. It took a few minutes for everyone to get out of the tunnel hole. Hermione was one of the last to set foot on the ground floor with Hal bringing up the rear. Harry walked over to Hermione and they both held hands.

“So far so good,” Hal said quietly, looking around. “No sign of Death Eaters around - that's good. There's the portal. Let's go…”

Hal started to walk towards the portal, which was still about a hundred or so meters away from their position. Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the scientists followed his lead while on a careful lookout for any ambushes. They had walked almost a quarter of the length of the large hallway. Harry looked around and still saw no sign of any life aside from theirs.

“So far so good,” Hal said.

Harry didn't believe the Death Eaters would just let them walk out of here.

“Just a few meters more…”

Harry's hunch was right.

Suddenly, about fifteen masked Death Eaters appeared and blocked their path between them and the portal. Hal and his group stopped on their tracks and stared at the Death Eaters. They had to fight their way through after all. The bad thing was, they still had to cover three fourths of the hallway's length to get to the finish line and they were all dangerously exposed.

All the Death Eaters raised their wands in unison and pointed them towards Hal's poorly armed men. Harry and Hermione breathed heavily, and they both got ready to move at Hal's signal.

A few silent and tense seconds passed, and Hal bellowed, “CHARGE!!!”

Every one in Hal's little army roared a battle cry and sprinted towards the Death Eaters with their spears pointed out. Harry and Hermione charged along with them with their wands pointed.

The first volley of curses from the Death Eaters came zapping towards them, and quite a number of scientists fell. For the few who weren't hit, including Hal, Bruce, Harry, and Hermione, they kept charging. They didn't look back for their fallen friends, and they picked up more speed. There was still time for the Death Eaters to shoot more curses; Harry and Hermione anticipated their next volley and conjured a double shield halfway between them and the Death Eaters to try to protect everybody.

Most of the curses from the Death Eaters bounced off the temporary shield - they ricocheted within the enclosed space on their side and some of their curses hit a couple or so of the Death Eaters squarely, putting them out of action instantly. But then they shot a few different spells against Harry and Hermione's shield and it shattered.

As soon as the shield broke Harry sent out a few disarmament spells to the Death Eaters and he managed to snatch away a couple of wands from their owners. Hermione, meanwhile, snapped a stunning spell at one, catching him and rendering him unconscious. The few remaining Death Eaters now didn't seem to know what to do and fired at will to the fast approaching wave of scientists, knocking out some. Harry was thankful they hadn't chosen him and Hermione who were more of a threat to them.

They had almost finally closed the gap and spears were now sent flying. Quite a few met their marks, three more had fallen, and the ranks of the Death Eaters were beginning to fight back in panic - their spells were now getting pretty inaccurate. A Death Eater picked Harry as a target, but fortunately Harry dodged the spell within inches just in time and it flew off behind him harmlessly.

“Flipendo Tria!” Harry shouted, and the Death Eater who had thrown a curse at him earlier flew back by the force of the triple spell and he disappeared through the portal.

A few deadly curses flew and few more scientists fell to the ground, but that was the last of the Death Eaters ranged attacks. At last, Hal's little army had broken through and a melee ensued!

Almost all of the Death Eaters tried to fight off thrusts of spear attacks desperately with limited magic. With too much to handle they fell back, and most of them had already been stabbed, dropping their wands from the intense pain of spears through their bodies, rendering them unable to fend off more attacks. The scientists vented their anger on them and showed them no mercy. A few explosions were heard, but that was a merely desperate move from the beleaguered Death Eaters to fend off the relentless attack of the scientists but also affected them negatively.

Hermione had been chosen by an unfettered Death Eater to a duel. Her electrical whip met the Death Eater's own with a zapping noise. She struggled to hold off the Death Eater's own whip to reach her - he was very strong for her that she was gradually being forced to the ground!

“Harry!!!” she yelled to him for help.

Harry, who had just knocked out an unarmed Death Eater on the floor with his bare fists, ran up and tackled Hermione's enemy from behind, releasing the locked spell. Hal then came out from nowhere and clobbered the hapless Death Eater with a club he had picked up from the ground. Hal refused to hear the Death Eater's pleas for him to stop, and killed him without remorse.

“Stupefy!” Hermione bellowed at another Death Eater who was about to curse Harry from behind before she could thank him. Soon they all heard the sound of the fighting die down, and all that were left standing were a few dozen shaken scientists. Almost all of the Death Eaters that had tried to massacre them were dead - the rest knocked out by stunning spells and bloodied by being bashed by enormous clubs. Hal and his men had successfully reached the portal but at a heavy price. More than half of wizardkind's brilliant potion masters captured by Voldemort have been killed.

Hermione's legs collapsed and she sat down directly on the cold stone floor, shaking. She looked around the carnage. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had never seen this many dead people around in her life at one time, and she felt sorry for the dead scientists who, just a few minutes ago, desired nothing else but to break free from Voldemort's captivity. At the same moment she felt relieved she and Harry weren't one of the dead - a random curse would have ended their lives in an instant. She looked around for him. Harry also looked spent - he was staring at the dead bodies that lay around him. He might also have been feeling the same thing as her.

Soon, there eyes met. Without saying anything they both ran towards each other and they embraced very tightly for comfort, grateful they were both all right.

“We'd better not linger,” a sorrowful Hal said to everyone after a minute or so of recovering himself. “I'm feeling deep regret for our fallen friends, but we can't do anything for them anymore. All the survivors, please, I ask you to cross the portal now or all our losses will be for naught. You'll end up in Hogsmeade - go and ask for care when you get there…”

The few surviving scientists started to queue to cross the portal. One of them fell behind and lifted a couple of lifeless bodies from the heap and carried them on both his shoulders before he crossed.

Hal came to him and said, “You don't have to do that, Casey…”

“Please, Hal,” Casey replied. “They were my best friends,” he cried.

Hal sighed, bowed his head, and whispered “Okay”.

“I-I can't leave them here - even if they're gone,” Casey said to no one in particular, walking slowly toward the portal.

“I understand,” Hal whispered.

Harry breathed, and he now seemed preoccupied with something in his mind.

When the last scientist departed, Hal walked to Harry. “It's really - hard - for a leader to lose even just one of his men,” he sniffed. “I feel responsible for them,” Hal added, looking on sadly at the dead scientists…”

“It's not your fault, Hal,” Hermione said softly. “You did you best to lead them out of here - I think if they had a different leader none of us would've made it.”

Hal smiled at her, though he was still teary eyed. “Thanks, Hermione. But I'm sure I'll still have sleepless nights ahead of me…”

A stunned Death Eater stirred, and Bruce immediately walloped him on the floor with a large club - Harry and Hermione didn't know if he killed him. Bruce merely shrugged at them.

“Oh, I think we better go,” Hal said. “There might be more of them coming…After you, Harry and Hermione.”

Harry looked at Hermione for a moment and then back to Hal. “Uhm, I think I'll stay…I still have to do something important here…”

Hal was taken a little aback. “I'm sorry?” he said. “But this is now your opportunity to walk out of here alive, Harry.”

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated for a moment and said “I'm sorry, Hermione, but Willard is still somewhere in this fortress. I-I just can't leave him behind. I owe it to him. He also has someone very important…someone who could be the only one who could help our side defeat the serum of Voldemort. Francs Girbeaux.”

Hermione groaned a bit. Harry had the unpleasant habit of always trying to be the hero - even to risk his own life for it. They had fought hard and risked being killed to reach the portal, and now that they have, Harry was now unwilling to cross it without Willard. They were almost back to freedom, and he's risking being captured - or worse, killed - by Voldemort, again. Hermione knew she could not let Harry go alone even if that meant they'll have to expose themselves to more danger.

She, however, now understood how Harry felt about Willard, and it was one proof of Harry's loyalty to anyone he cared for, including her. Additionally, she also understood the importance of saving Francs, not just because she would directly benefit with his work against the serum, but for the good of wizardkind as well. If it was Harry's wish to go back to try to find Willard, he had her full support. She was ready and willing to be one with him.

At last she nodded at him. “I'm going back with you,” she said.

“Please, Hermione,” Harry said. “You don't have to - you have to get out of here. I can do this alone. I don't want you to get hurt anymore.”

“Neither do I!” she said. “Didn't we just agree to stay with each other no matter what happens? If you go, I go. Stay, and I'll stay. No more arguments, Harry.”

Harry considered her statement for a moment. Remembering his word and seeing Hermione cannot be forced to escape without him, he nodded.

“Are you sure about this, both of you?” Hal asked. “I have to tell you as an elder I'm against your decision to forego this portal and I have the responsibility to take you both to safety - the portal will die out in less than ten minutes. If you can't make it back here before that, you'll have to fight to get to the portal room again, which I'm sure is now heavily guarded.”

Harry and Hermione both said “yes”, making Hal exhale deeply.

“Okay,” he said. “I respect your decision - to me you are mature enough to know the risks. Here, have the map. This will help you not to get lost. I'm very sorry if I can't go with you if I wanted to - I can't abandon my men. It's my duty to look after them and they still need me.”

Harry took the map gratefully and said, “Thank you, Hal. You know, I admit I had serious doubts about your men, but I was wrong and I was impressed by their bravery. You're a good leader, Hal.”

“Thank you, Harry, for those kind words,” Hal said proudly. “But you should know that without both your precious help, none of us would have reached this point. Even the best leader is no good if his men are lesser than him. I'll wait for you at the other side, and I'm praying for you. Be careful and good luck.”

Harry and Hermione nodded at him again with thanks, and they set back out for Willard and Francs. Hal didn't want to cross the portal until he saw the last of Harry and Hermione; he looked at them seriously and sighed while they ran off.

Harry and Hermione had now gotten back in the tunnel through the hole on the floor, and they retraced their steps back to the underground cave. Harry opened the map while they walked to navigate through the tunnels. While he did, he glanced back at Hermione and said, “You know I'm still really against letting you join me…”

“And I'm against leaving you to yourself looking for Willard and Francs,” she interrupted. “Please, Harry, we've already talked about this, and there's no point in arguing about it now. I have to help you whether you like it or not…Besides, I'm doing this because…because I love you.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled gratefully and Hermione smiled back at him. “All I'm asking from you now is to please be careful…”

“Likewise, Harry…”

They have reached the former secret hideout of Hal. Harry remembered the tunnel where Willard had disappeared to look for Francs, and he and Hermione naturally took it. The map showed that they wouldn't get lost - there was only a single tunnel leading to the dungeons. The tunnel was narrow and with a low ceiling, suggesting that this was dug for the purpose of escaping the dungeons to the underground caves. It was ironic that it was used again by Willard and his companions to get back there.

They both walked - rather, crouched - toward the entrance to the dungeons with wands out. Harry and Hermione felt their leg muscles strain being bent almost double all the way. It took them a little more than a quarter hour to reach the end of the tunnel where the dungeons could be accessed. If Hal was right about the portal, Harry, thought, then by this time it was gone. But that didn't stop Harry from hoping Hal was wrong.

Sometimes they had to magically remove a few dead bodies of Death Eaters along the way who were victims of Hal's ingenious and deadly traps. Harry and Hermione couldn't handle the stench of death wafting along the tunnel, but they knew they had to hold on to their guts to pass by them to reach the dungeons.

When Harry guessed that they were at the end of the tunnels and were about to climb out of the hole the scientists had dug, he said to Hermione, “Be ready for anything…”

Hermione nodded and gripped her wand tighter.

Harry popped his head out of the floor and looked around. They were in a prison cell, perhaps the same place they had been when they were brought in here by the Death Eater Burton. It was apparently abandoned. Harry slowly climbed up to the floor and gave Hermione a hand to help her up from the hole.

“What do we do now?” Hermione said, her eyes scanning around the place. Her face was shiny with sweat and specks of dirt littered parts of her cheeks.

Harry put a finger on his lips and signaled Hermione to follow him. They both emerged from the cell (the iron cell door was open, and it looked like it was blown up with a small bomb) and proceeded to the open door leading out of what was apparently the prison wing of this fortress. There were other cells on both sides of this wing and they were all empty.

When they were out of the prison wing, they found some steep stone steps that lead further downwards. They had no other place to go but to follow it and down they went. They had walked down the steps about fifty or so meters when the stairs ended and the floor had leveled off straight to a long and narrow passageway with a lone steel door at the end.

“More tunnels,” Harry hissed.

Along the way they found a couple of bodies sprawled on the floor; Hermione checked on one of them and turned him over. She jerked back when the lifeless and bloodied face of one of the scientists came staring straight at her.

“Take it easy, Hermione,” Harry said.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” she breathed. “But I saw this man earlier today - he's one of the scientists who went along with Willard…”

Harry stared at the dead body for a while and he felt something probably went wrong with Willard's group and that's why they hadn't returned at all. However, that didn't stop him from hoping that Willard might still be alive, and that he was still somewhere around and he needed to be rescued. “Let's go,” he said. “Keep an eye out for trouble…”

They both kept close to the walls when they walked the length of the narrow passageway. After a little while, Harry and Hermione had gotten to the foot of the lone door at the end. Harry pressed his ears to try to listen what was outside, but he didn't hear anything. Perhaps it was because the door was made of steel.

“Shall we open it?” Hermione asked him quietly. Harry nodded and he turned on the knob, which was fortunately unlocked. He slowly opened the door (Hermione pointed her wand up ahead), and they both gasped when they saw several bodies strewn around in a large steel-walled room with more stairs leading somewhere on each side. The bodies were both of the scientists and Death Eaters who looked like they had a very deadly fight in this room earlier. A large black dog the size of a bull lay dead at the center of the room, which Harry knew as one of Voldemort's feared hybrids.

Hermione closed her eyes and squinted at the sight of the carnage. She felt she could never get used to seeing such horrifying results of extreme acts of violence in her life. There was one person that caught her eye who was actually still breathing and sitting up at the far corner.

It was Willard. He was badly injured but was holding a broken spear as if he was still expecting an attack.

“Willard!” Hermione exclaimed, and she and Harry ran towards him. They both stopped and dropped to one knee on both sides of Willard.

“Willard - you look hurt!” Harry said, not knowing if it was okay to touch him.

“H-Harry…Hermione…” he groaned. “What're you two doing back here?”

“We came back for you,” Harry replied. “Hal and most of the others had escaped, but you hadn't…what happened here?”

“T-Terrible,” Willard shuddered. “Ambushed by Death Eaters and the black dog…I killed the black dog…” Willard looked slightly traumatized, but he was thinking straight. “There might be more coming…”

“We'll get you out of here, Willard, come on,” Harry told him. He and Hermione grabbed both of his hands and got ready to put his arms around their shoulders.

“Harry - a Death Eater has Francs,” Willard rasped at him. “Please, you got to stop him from killing Francs - he's the only hope for the anti-serum…”

“Where'd they go?”

Willard pointed at the stairway to his right. “They haven't been gone long - if you hurry you might still catch them…”

“O-Okay, you sit tight,” Harry said. “Hermione, please stand guard for Willard while I go after for Francs…”

“What?”

“Please, Hermione, don't argue with me this time,” Harry implored her. “Willard's completely vulnerable alone in this condition. He needs your protection.”

Hermione nodded reluctantly and said, “Okay, be careful, Harry - if you don't come back in five minutes I'll go looking for you…”

“Okay, fine,” he said. “I'll be back.” Harry left Hermione with Willard and ran down on the stairs. Whoever was bleeding, he had left a trail of blood this way. Harry chose not to tread carefully knowing that each second counted for the life of Francs Girbeaux, and he ran full out through the passageway.

After a couple of minutes running, he heard running water as he neared the end of the passageway. He felt the air cool for every step he took, and Harry surmised he must be heading to another underground cave with a river in another part of the fortress. Then he heard someone pleading for his life up ahead.

Soon he saw the end of the passageway. Beyond it was a long stone bridge crossing towards a far wall of a large cave to the mouth of another tunnel, lighted with a gloomy blue hue. At the center of the bridge was a lone Death Eater manhandling a white robed man that Harry bet was Francs Girbeaux. He was a petite, balding, and aged man, and he looked powerless against the Death Eater who seemed about to throw him down from the bridge.

“You have no use to the Dark Lord now, Girbeaux,” growled the Death Eater, holding the shaking Francs by the collar. “You've lost your usefulness - we have all we need to know about the serum, and you've been working on an antidote, I hear…”

“No, No - please don't kill me!” Francs pleaded.

“Let him go, Death Eater!!!” Harry shouted when he alighted out of the mouth of the passageway, his wand pointed at him.

The Death Eater slowly looked over his shoulder to Harry and grinned. It was Peter Burton. “So, we meet again, Harry Potter,” he wheezed. “About the play the hero again as you always do, I presume?”

“This is the end of the line for you, Burton,” Harry told him angrily. “Surrender Francs to me or I'll curse you!”

Burton laughed out loud. “You? Curse me?” he guffawed. “And risk killing this little man I know has the answer to make your little precious Hermione well again?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Burton. He didn't like it being taunted about Hermione. “I warn you, Burton!” he pressed.

Burton heaved Francs up and dangled him dangerously out of the bridge. Harry was caught off guard and he didn't dare to curse him or else Francs would fall down to his death. He looked over the side of the bridge and saw that they were hundreds of feet above a rampaging rocky river. Francs yelled and flapped his feet in fright.

“I demand you take him back over the bridge, Burton!” Harry shouted. “Now!”

“Or what? Curse me again?” he laughed. “You, Potter, are not in a position to offer me a choice. How about this…you have five seconds to drop your wand and surrender to me, or I let go of this scientist you find so important.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his spot.

“Five…”

“Take him back over the bridge now!!!” Harry yelled.

Burton grinned. “Four…”

“I'll curse you!”

“Three…”

Harry was at a loss on what to do next. He hoped Burton was bluffing, but he knew it was now him who was at a disadvantage. He knew he needed Francs to stay alive - or Voldemort will have free reign with his new weapon.

“Two…”

Harry quickly put his wand on the bridge's floor.

Burton laughed. “You're so weak, Potter. Thank you for heeding my warning, but I changed my mind…say goodbye to your only hope against the Dark Lord's wonderful serum…”

To Harry's horror, Burton let go of his hold of Francs. Like in slow motion, Harry watched the scientist begin to plummet to his death. Burton then had drawn out his wand to point it to Harry.

Harry didn't know what he was thinking and did something really crazy. He bent down, grabbed his wand from the surface, and dove recklessly after Francs who was already twenty feet down ahead of him! Burton's curse missed him for a few inches.

Harry plunged after Francs, and he pointed his wand towards his falling target.

“Carpe Retractum!” he shouted. A long cord jutted out of his wand and caught Francs around his torso. “Retracto!” Harry said next, and the cord retracted, pulling Francs towards him as he had expected the spell to do. Harry caught Francs tightly in midair with his left arm and he immediately let go of his spell.

Still plunging towards the river below, Harry struggled to look up to find the bridge up above him. It was fast breaking away from him, the long span looking thinner with his sight as he kept falling. He had only one chance for this; he fought extreme pressure to do this right - Harry aimed at the bridge very carefully and grunted “Carpe Retractum!”

Another long cord jetted up from his wand and it seemed to take forever to reach the bridge up above. While the cord kept on extending, Harry began to worry that this spell had a limited range that he didn't know of.

“C'mon!” he prayed, glancing down to the fast approaching river below. Soon, he felt a soft tug on his arm - his spell had successfully grappled the bridge! Like hanging on a bungie cord, he floated up and down with Francs along with the elasticity of the spell; Francs had gone down a few inches of his grip with Harry and was holding on to him for dear life. It was lucky for them Harry's gambit had worked; they had gone almost within a hundred down to the river below. Harry let out a huge sigh of relief. He vowed to himself never to do something crazy like this ever again.

Soon, the long cord relaxed to a stop, and Harry looked down on a pale-faced Francs. “You all right, sir?”

“Yes, son,” he whimpered. “Th-thanks for that!”

“This isn't over yet,” Harry told him. “Better hang on tight!”

Francs nodded vigorously back at him and tightened his hold on Harry. Luckily, he was lighter than Harry, but the strain on Harry's arms holding Francs and the wand were now took a toll on him. Harry knew he had to act fast to get back to the bridge before he could not hold on to his wand anymore.

He looked up and said, “Retracto!” He felt another tug and the cord began to retract rapidly. Harry felt he was now elevating back up to the bridge with Francs. He knew Burton might be still be there waiting for them, so he got ready for him.

Soon they had reached the bridge and Harry struggled to heave Francs back to the surface. It was very difficult to do. Francs knew Harry was losing strength, and he used Harry to climb back toward the bridge's surface and pulled him in. Harry had just barely gotten back on top of the bridge when Burton was on top of him.

“Crucio!”

Burton had cursed Harry from behind before he could stand up. Harry screamed from the excruciating pain brought about by the curse. Francs frantically crawled away from the screaming Harry, his face contorting in terror.

Burton was laughing like a madman while he kept on cursing Harry. “Suffer, Potter, suffer!” Burton cackled. Then he let go of the curse.

Harry shook all over as he struggled to regain his footing to face Burton and fight back.

“I see you made a very risky decision back there,” Burton told him while Harry fumbled for his wand on the bridge. “I'm impressed by your boldness, Harry. You really want your lovely friend to break free, don't you? Crucio!”

Harry dropped his wand again before he could raise it, and it rolled dangerously close to the edge of the bridge. He slumped back on the surface to absorb the next round of the Cruciatus Curse. Burton let go of the curse again and approached Harry slowly.

“I've gotten already tired of this little curse,” Burton said lazily. “I didn't know it would ever get so boring. But I'd never miss the chance to do the killing curse any time, especially on you, Harry Potter. Say goodbye to your life, then…”

Harry looked up at Burton in horror - the Death Eater's wand was now pointed straight at him. Burton's eyes went as wide as it could get with glee; he gave Harry a last smirk and muttered “Avada…”

Suddenly a spear came out of nowhere and went through Burton heart's in front of him! Dropping his chant and realizing what had happened, Burton stared at the spear for in disbelief for a moment and looked ahead of him with horrified eyes. He saw something fast coming towards him (Harry didn't know what it was since he didn't take a look back) and while he desperately gasped for air, he muttered another curse at his unknown attacker. His wand had fired, and Harry heard a grunt from behind him. Soon, Burton's assailant had skipped over Harry, grabbed Burton by the robes, and pushed the Death Eater over the railings!

Burton plummeted from up the bridge down to the river below to his death.

Harry rolled upright and then he found out who had attacked Burton, and saved his life. It was Hal Rodd, and he lay flat on his chest. Harry crawled over to Hal quickly and rolled him over.

“Hal!”

Hal's breath was uneven. His eyes looked glassy, and he rolled it towards Harry. He looked like at the brink of death. “H-Harry,” he coughed. “You okay?”

“I-I'm fine…but you're hurt!”

“I'm glad to know you're okay…I came back for you or else you would've died from that Death Eater,” he smiled weakly.

“Hal, please don't talk - hold on…we'll take you out of here…”

Hal shook his head. “P-please don't - I will only slow you down. Is Francs (cough) alive?”

“Hello, Hal,” Francs said slowly, coming over to him.

Hal smiled broadly when he saw Francs. “Th-That's good. Please do the anti-serum when you get out of here, will you?”

Francs nodded and said, “I will, Hal, I will…”

“H-Harry,” Hal said next, his breathing getting choppier.

Harry took his hand and grasped it. “Yes, Hal…”

Hal smiled quickly and concentrated on getting what he wanted to say before he passed away. “Please tell my men…when you escape…that I'm sorry I didn't come to them…tell them I-I had to go back, for Francs and the good of wizardkind…Willard was right - Francs needed to be saved…our hopes to defeat You-Know-Who's weapon is on his hands…It's been an honor fighting alongside you, Harry…”

“I'm blessed to have known you, Hal,” Harry said sadly, starting to weep.

“H-Harry, please…Tell my men, I'm very happy many of them survived. T-tell them I'm sorry I didn't do all I can to prevent the deaths of their friends…tell them not to worry about me…T-Tell them…T-tell them I've found my freedom…in death…” Hal breathed his last, and his eyes closed for the last time.

Harry yelled with the death of Hal. He had learned how to respect him after being awed by his leadership, but now he was dead.

Francs put a hand over Harry's shoulder and shook it gently. “C'mon, Harry,” Francs whispered. “There's nothing we can do.”

Harry looked back to the passageway with tears in his eyes, and he saw Hermione supporting Willard by holding his arm around her shoulder at the end of the bridge, looking back tearfully at him.

“H-Harry,” Hermione cried. “I'm at a loss on what to say for Hal…” She left Willard then ran towards Harry, fixed his face and hair with her hands for a moment, and embraced him.

Harry sniffed and hugged her, feeling thankful for her effort to comfort him. He knew she was grateful for Hal by saving his life, and understood she felt that he didn't need to die. Willard sighed and gestured with his head that they still needed to keep moving.

Harry refused to leave Hal's body behind in respect for his sacrifice to save his life. He, therefore, carried him over his shoulder. There was a time to regret his loss, and Harry knew they still had to get out of the dungeons to get to the portal in time - if it was still there.

Slowly they went back to the battle site where Harry had the portal was still at. Francs and Hermione both supported Willard with his arms over their shoulders while Harry brought up the front. Hermione kept glancing concernedly at Harry; Harry often assured her without saying any words that he was all right.

Finally they had gotten out of the hole from under the ground back to the main fortress hallway. There were no signs of new Death Eaters, and Harry felt relieved the portal was still up where he left it because they had taken more than twenty minutes to find Francs and Willard and bring them back. The portal was supposed to disappear minutes ago according to Hal.

“My Lord…Did this really happen here?” Willard said, struck at the sight of the bloodbath brought about by the battle for the portal.

Harry nodded to him. Fearing that the portal might really disappear for real any moment, Harry said to everyone, “C'mon, let's move double time to the portal.”

“Harry, what do we do when the Death Eaters'll block the way to the portal again?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“No choice but to fight,” Harry simply replied.

Hermione and Francs nodded and took up the pace as they grunted against Willard's weight. Harry looked around for new threats - his shoulder was getting tired from carrying Hal's lifeless body, but he didn't mind. In a few minutes they'll be out of Xanthius and back to Hogsmeade.

Almost halfway to the portal, Harry heard a rumbling noise and felt the floor underneath them vibrate. They all stopped on their tracks and looked around.

“Harry - w-what's happening?” Hermione said, looking scared.

“I don't know,” he replied nervously. He thought of looking back from where they came from and that was where he found the answer to the question.

The large wooden barrier behind them rose up to the ceiling. Soon, hundreds of imps like the ones Harry had fled from the last time he was here with Ron and Ginny crawled slowly towards them, their large red flaming eyes staring menacingly at them. Harry knew what the presence of these imps meant.

“Oh, hell, no!” Harry exclaimed. “Not them!”

Both sides of the intersecting hallways closed with a big bang, shaking the ground tremendously. They knew they had nowhere to go but straight towards the portal or else they would be run over by the imps soon.

“H-Harry!” Hermione whimpered.

“Run,” Harry gulped.

Without warning the imps sprang off towards them, and they all went rumbling down towards Harry, Hermione, Willard, and Francs!

“Run!” Harry shouted this time. “Get to the portal, quick!”

Despite the weight of Willard and Hal's lifeless body that burdened them all, they all ran as fast as they could towards the portal. If they could reach it before the imps were all over them, they could get out of here alive.

“Don't look back!” Hermione panted. She struggled to run as fast as she can while carrying half of Willard's weight with Francs. Willard didn't heed her advice and looked over his shoulder.

The imps at the back of the horde scaled the walls to go in front of the pack, and they were dangerously gaining on them. Willard fought the pain on his legs to give Hermione and Francs a much needed boost by skipping his foot on the ground. Harry was losing breath, and he desperately shot a few spells behind his back.

“Repulso! Repulso!” he cried, and a few imps yelped when they got hit that sent them flying off backwards. But Harry knew that was doing too little - there were hundreds behind them. Up to now he never thought of a way to deal with Voldemort's frightening imps.

Still, they ran for dear life. Judging by their speed against the nimble imps, Harry thought they would've been swamped by them right now, but strangely they haven't been yet. After a few more running steps, they were almost a few feet to the portal. Just a little more pain and they would be safe on the other side…

However, when they got within ten meters from the portal, the floor beneath them opened in two, sending Harry, Hermione, Francs and Willard down a floor level from the ground and onto a very large pit!

Hermione yelped in surprise; they all collapsed down to the floor from the shock of their landing. Harry shook his head and looked up - the imps were now looking down on them but strangely they didn't jump down into the pit to finish them off. They just shrieked loudly above them and jostled for a ringside view of Harry, Hermione, Willard, and Francs who all looked dazed from the sudden fall.

“Expelliarmus!” a voice exploded from somewhere in the pit. Harry and Hermione's wand flew off and landed on the floor a few yards away from them.

Hermione screamed loudly when she looked behind her.

“Like scared mice in a trap,” Lucius drawled, pointing his wand at Harry and Hermione. About twenty members of Voldemort's top circle of Death Eaters including McNair, Crabbe, Goyle, Dolohov, Avery, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the ever-excited Wormtail grinned at them, also aiming their wands in a sinister way.

“Thanks for being where we want you all to be, Potter,” taunted Lucius. “I knew you'd still walk straightly towards the portal even after what you've gone through up there earlier - but I just wanted to make sure you did by releasing my imps. One sudden move among any of you and you're all dead.”

-o0o-

Chapter 21 coming soon.

A/N Thank you for your continued interest with this story! Please kindly leave a review. Thanks!

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22. The Twin Pendants of Omerta

Thanks, Scott and Lady Blazey, for your reviews! I really appreciate it. (smiling broadly).

Chapter 21

The Twin Pendants of Omerta

Hermione stood up from the floor, moved towards Harry, and clung unto him at the same time as Lucius and the Death Eaters looked upon them dangerously with mixed expressions. Some looked satisfied with their catch while the others were obviously angry with them.

“Let's kill them now!” Bellatrix Lestrange laughed, sounding much like a small girl. “Oh, they look sooo scared!”

“Not now, Bellatrix. You'll have your chance later on - I promise you that,” Lucius replied to her, not taking his eyes off Harry. “But if they make a sudden move, you can do whatever you want with them.”

Bellatrix cackled with delight. “Eenie, Meeny, Miney, Mo! Mo, Miney, Meeny, Weeny-Weeny!” she said, picking Harry, Hermione, Willard and Francs with her wand excitedly and hopped on her spot with glee.

Harry, Hermione, Willard, and Francs were outnumbered five to one in the gloomy pit. It was Harry's habit to often look for a way out of a bad situation - he observed that the only apparent exit was a small opening behind the Death Eaters that connected to a set of stairs going up. It was probably where the Death Eaters might have entered to the pit to wait for them to fall into their trap. He didn't know where it went to and he believed it was not worth the risk to try to break through the phalanx of Death Eaters. The one other exit in sight was the open trapdoor above them, but the imps made it an undesirable choice and climbing up there was not a good idea. They absolutely had nowhere to go now.

Since Harry and Hermione were rendered wandless, Lucius felt free to stroll around his prisoners. Hermione hid behind Harry and peeked over his shoulder to watch Lucius.

“You've caused so many problems for us already, Potter,” Lucius said angrily. “The Dark Lord has never experienced this heavy of losses in terms of Death Eaters until now - quite unprecedented.”

“They were so stupid anyway!” Harry spat bravely. “Like all Death Eaters…”

“Why, you're one bloody little pest…” McNair said, in the verge of cursing Harry. Lucius, however, grabbed McNair's hand to turn his aim away from Harry.

Hermione tugged down Harry's robes. “Harry, please don't…” she pleaded behind him.

“That'll do, McNair,” Lucius said. He looked back at Harry and laughed in a single breath. “I see your little feat with the scientists has gone to your head, Potter,” he sneered. “Still feeling brave, aren't you? Do you even think you can take on all of us yourself?”

“Just give me my wand back and you'll find out,” Harry grunted.

The Death Eaters all hooted with laughter.

“Nice one, Potter,” Lucius scoffed. “But we'll see how fearless you will be when you meet the Dark Lord again in a little while. He was quite happy that you went back to the dungeons instead of jumping over that portal for good. How stupid of you - but thanks to you, you've given us another shot on capturing you.”

The rest of the Death Eaters around the pit laughed again. Harry and Hermione snatched glances to their faraway wands - attempting to retrieve them without being cursed was just next to impossible.

“Quite a day today was, wasn't it?” Lucius went on. “We underestimated how those nerdy scientists could fight against our Death Eaters. We have never imagined they'd take us on. They were very, very lucky to break through like that and killing every one of my men in the process - a very impressive accomplishment.”

“Those scientists escaped what was supposed to be an inescapable fortress, so this proves Xanthius isn't what it's touted to be, is it?” Harry smirked in an attempt to get even with Lucius with his trash talk. “If I were your Dark Lord, I'd chomp all your hollow heads for that.”

“Oh, you're quite mistaken. It now doesn't matter to any of us that they've escaped,” Lucius replied. “We now have full knowledge on how to mass-produce the serum. They would be a liability after their work was done, anyway. Soon, we will have enough of the serum to create paranoia in the wizard world and force our new slaves to do our bidding. What's more, nobody will be sure who'll be their enemy anymore when the job is done. But that isn't the sole reason why we invented the serum in the first place. He has appreciated the fact that my little project provided the answer to his deepest desire, which he had worked hard to fulfill so many times but failed. You don't need to know about that, of course. Anyway, don't you worry about the escaped scientists, Potter. They're worthless to the Dark Lord now. The only person that he wants for now is you.”

Harry glared at Lucius. “So if it's me that he only wants, why don't you let my friends go? They have no use to any of you…”

“You are in no position to dictate to us what you want, Potter,” Lucius sneered. “Do you think we'll ever let them go? Your friends will do have some use to us. Wraskon and Girbeaux will be forced to make more of their concoctions. And your Mudblood friend, of course…you see, the Dark Lord is extra possessive of his slaves. He has recognized her huge potential as one of his offensive weapons, even though she's a Mudblood.”

Hermione gasped; Harry pressed her more tightly behind his back.

Willard spoke up defiantly. “I'd rather kill myself than to do dirty work for you, Lucius!”

Lucius ignored him and kept talking to Harry. “If I had my way, Potter, I would've killed the Mudblood already. How despicable it is to have her filth pollute the Dark Fortress, but our master knows better than us and we will respect his wisdom. You, however, would be better off dead, as always. As much as possible, the Dark Lord wants to kill you personally. You don't seem to appreciate the value of the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived, who vanquished the Dark Lord once as a baby, will end up dead in his hands after all even if you have grown as a teenager and have learned some magic. That will destroy the myth that anyone can hurt the Dark Lord and get away with it, won't it?”

Bellatrix shrieked with laughter while Crabbe and Goyle chortled goofily. “But don't let that give you the idea we won't kill you when you make a bad move,” Bellatrix cackled. “Master won't mind, will he, Lucius?”

Lucius nodded and sighed. “You should have accepted the Dark Lord's offer to join him, but you are too proud, you refused. You've done this upon yourself, Potter. You will die soon and you will surely turn on your grave with the suffering your friends will endure when they become slaves again.”

Lucius turned around and called some of his Death Eaters. “Enough of this chit-chat…Molroney, go to the portal room and tell the people there to cut the portal at once. We've held it open for too long, but worth it.

Molrony nodded obediently. “Give me five minutes and the portal will be closed, Lucius,” he said. The Death Eater went up the stairs and disappeared.

Cassius Wallace then spoke up. “Shall I go and inform the Dark Lord about Potter, Lucius?”

Lucius nodded. “Yes, thank you, Casius. Tell the Dark Lord that we have secured Potter and his friends. He has been waiting for this moment.”

“So where's Voldemort now, Malfoy?” growled Harry. Most of the Death Eaters hissed loudly when they heard their master's name. “Is he hiding behind his throne while he lets you do all his dirty work for him?”

“How dare you speak his name, Half-blood!” Bellatrix screamed.

“Don't fret, Potter,” Lucius said, looking back at him and ignoring Bellatrix's remark. “If it's the Dark Lord that you want, you will meet him soon enough. I know he's furious with you for what you've done with Nagini.”

“He spoke the Dark Lord's name, Lucius!” Bellatrix reiterated. “This half-blood is so arrogant he needs to be cursed now!”

Lucius did not answer her.

“Let's curse him!!!” she demanded.

“Then go ahead, Bellatrix,” Lucius sighed impatiently. “Curse him with your heart's desire if you really want to do it.”

Bellatrix grinned and pointed her wand at Harry. She looked deranged, as if she was waiting for a chance to curse anyone - Harry knew what she had in mind, and it was obvious it was the Cruciatus Curse. Harry pushed Hermione back away from him as he braced for it.

WHUMP!

A loud sound, however, echoed somewhere up above them, which seem to have come from the ground floor. Everybody looked up.

“What was that?” Lucius said. “Penrose, investigate.”

One of the Death Eaters turned on his heels and went up the stairs behind them.

The imps up above suddenly began to scream. A strong red shockwave thundered from the direction of the portal, hitting the imps and vanishing all that was washed away with the wave. All the remaining imps scuttled away in a panicked frenzy.

Lucius glared at Harry. “Is this one of your tricks, Potter?” he growled, pointing his wand at him. Harry shook his head apprehensively, stepped back, and hid Hermione away from Lucius' view very tightly.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouted, completing her desire to do the curse on Harry. Hermione flung backwards and landed painfully down on the floor as the Cruciatus Curse's outer shell removed her hold on him. Harry screamed in agony.

“Die with the curse!” Bellatrix shrieked. “Die with the curse, Potter!”

“Stop it! Stop it!” Hermione yelled from behind Harry.

A split second later, a bright beam from above crossed over the path of Bellatrix's own Cruciatus Curse's, making it bounce back on her to have a taste of it herself. Several people had jumped down from above and invaded the pit: Sirius Black, Tonks, Remus Lupin, Horace Whipple, and the two Aurors from the Burrow namely Sydney Nettleson and Trevor Colby. Lucius and his Death Eaters didn't have time to wonder how they had gotten to Xanthius; Sirius and the rest took no time to send their first wave of spells against them.

Hermione's spirits rose - they were not alone anymore! “Sirius!” she shouted, helping an aching Harry up from the floor.

“No time to talk yet, Hermione,” Sirius grunted, flinging a spell against Lucius, who had pulled an unknown Death Eater to his front to be used for cover. The poor Death Eater shook uncontrollably when he absorbed Sirius' attack.

It became pretty violent and chaotic inside the relatively small pit. Curses were exchanged back and forth between the attackers and Death Eaters. Hermione ran towards her and Harry's wands, picked them up, and tossed Harry his to join the fray. Willard, meanwhile, covered Francs with his whole body, looking around apprehensively to avoid further injury.

A loud explosion cracked somewhere behind the Death Eater's zone, putting a few Death Eaters out of action. Nobody knew where that came from and who did it, but this helped Sirius and his side gain an even break in the first few critical seconds of the fight. The fighting has quickly boiled down into individual duels; Tonks dueled McNair, Sirius with Lucius, Lupin with Avery, Nettleson with Crabbe, and Whipple with Goyle. Hermione had chosen to fight Wormtail. Harry and Bellatrix were both still trying to recover with the effects of the same Cruciatus Curse and they raced for who's going to be the first one to stand up.

Lucius' maintained a threatening face while he struggled against Sirius. Neither one of them had gained an advantage against each other; they both seemed to have matched skills. Sirius had tried to strangle Lucius with a fiery whip, but Lucius conjured a large liquid-looking shield to dissipate the attack. Lucius had then retaliated by conjuring a large snake towards Sirius. It was about to pounce on Sirius when he quickly countered by summoning a wild hawk against it; it swooped down on the hapless snake in a split second and flew off with it. Now both of them turned their wands into blazing swords and they settled into a swordfight.

Bellatrix had beaten Harry upright, but Harry, fighting lingering pain throughout his body, had made the first move. “Petrificus Totalus!” A jet of blue light hurled towards Bellatrix and she suddenly dissapparated to avoid being hit. Over the next second she apparated right next to Harry and kicked him at the stomach. Harry fell down on the floor on all fours and wheezed out of breath. Bellatrix pointed her wand at his back at point blank range and said, “Cru…”

A stunning spell had hit her before she could finish the incantation and she fell down on the floor unconscious. Harry looked around to see who had saved him from further pain; he saw Hermione wink at him and then returned her attention back to dueling Wormtail. She seemed to be capable of handling Pettrigrew all by herself that Harry looked around for a Death Eater to fight. He found one in Nott, who had wiggled past many dueling wizards and was about to attack Sirius from behind!

“Expelliarmus!” Harry bellowed. Nott flew backwards and landed on Horace Whipple painfully, sending the wizard down to the floor.

Relieved from an opponent for a moment, Goyle turned to curse Harry. “Petrificus Totalus!” Goyle muttered.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt what it was like to be rendered paralyzed from head to foot. His body stiffened into full attention, and he fell down forward like a log. Harry could not even yell in pain when several feet of dueling wizards had stomped on him.

Tonks had seen what happened to Harry from afar, ran towards him and muttered, “Mobilus!” Harry felt as if his body was quickly turned into liquid and for a moment he had forgotten how to move his limbs. Tonks turned around and was hit by a stunning spell. She then slumped to the ground beside Bellatrix.

“Tonks!” Harry cried and he hastily fumbled for his wand to retaliate against whoever stunned Tonks. It was McNair. Luckily he didn't choose to engage Harry after taking care of Tonks and instead moved in to help Goyle and Nott who were now engaged in a brawl against the lone Whipple.

“Stupefy!” Harry bellowed and McNair was put out of action instantly. He would have stunned Goyle next if a large dog hadn't suddenly joined in the fight in the pit from above! The sight of the huge beast left Harry staring at it with his jaw dropped. The Hybrid growled at the center of the pit, trampling the auror Colby to the floor. Harry knew what the sudden intervention of this humongous dog would do - it would turn the tide against his side soon if he didn't do something. Sirius kept on dueling Lucius, but it was apparent he was beginning to get distracted by the threat of the dog. The dog had found Whipple, chomped on his foot, shook him high up in the air, and tossed him aside like a rag doll. Goyle and Nott had both cheered, but Harry knew better than to leave them unchallenged first.

“Lartigo!” Harry said, and an electrical whip from his wand wrapped around Goyle, jolting him out of consciousness. Lupin had already taken care of Avery and he concentrated on the huge dog in the middle of the pit. Harry and Lupin both sent stunning spells against it, but the beams of light from their wands only just bounced off the beast harmlessly. Lupin cursed loudly, and the dog picked him as the next target.

Lupin ran around the pit to dodge the dog's huge mouth as it snapped dangerously close to his back, even passing nearby Lucius Malfoy and Sirius Black, who were still busy dueling against each other. Harry attempted a few more stunning spells against it but it had absolutely no effect.

The dog had jumped toward Harry to try to stomp him; if Lupin had not anticipated it and hadn't tackled Harry to the side, he would have been squashed like an orange!

“Thanks!” Harry panted, but Lupin merely nodded at him and then desperately shot all kinds of curses against the dog, which was now gunning again for them. Harry now understood why the wizard world seemed to have been helpless against this creature during their raids. A single Hybrid dog was proving to be too difficult to fight, much more against a whole stampeding pack of them. Lupin and Harry scuttled just before a paw smashed them on the ground. However, the dog had snagged Harry by the back of his robes with his large jaw!

Harry yelled in fright as he rose up from the ground. He knew if he didn't try to do anything to get away from this humongous dog, he was a goner. Trying hard not to drop his wand, he hit the dog's nose with his elbow as hard and as much as he can, but he thought this didn't probably make any difference at all. Even flashing brilliant flashes of light against its eyes didn't do anything good. He was getting dizzy being waggled around violently, and it was only a matter of time he'd lose consciousness. He could hear Lupin shooting his spells against the dog in an attempt to save Harry.

Then he heard a very welcome voice he could recognize from anywhere shouting from down below.

“Pick somebody yer own size, yeh li'l mutt!” Hagrid growled at the oversized dog. Harry didn't know how Hagrid had gotten here, too, but he sure was late.

Harry felt the waggling stop and the dog yelped in pain. Hagrid had caught the dog in a head lock and tried to pry Harry off its mouth by his bare hands. Soon, Harry felt he'd come loose; he fell to the ground and Lupin caught him.

Fighting off dizziness, Harry looked up to watch Hagrid take on the dog. Hagrid clobbered his huge fists against the dog's head like a seasoned boxer, and the animal staggered backwards each time it absorbed the blows. It tried to jump forward to bite Hagrid, but it couldn't.

“Sorry fer being late, Harry,” Hagrid said, swinging his arms and knocking the hapless dog with a series of punches. “I cudern't fit through the portal easily coz I was teh big!” Soon he wrestled with the dog like it was a cuddly little pooch.

“Aughhhh!” Sirius screamed. Harry and Lupin snapped their heads towards his direction and saw Lucius giving him the Cruciatus Curse.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled.

“Expelliarmus!” Lupin shouted, and Lucius' wand flew off, breaking his spell against Sirius. The Death Eater instinctively ran for his wand at once; Harry shot off a few spells against him but unfortunately missed. Lucius had just recovered his wand when Harry heard Hermione's scream.

“Harry!” she shrieked. Wormtail had Hermione, and he was dragging her up the stairs in the act of getting away!

“Oh, my god!” Harry said, his heart skipping a bit. “Hermione!”

“Infernus!” Lucius shot back, making his wand a small flamethrower. Harry and Lupin sought for cover but could not find any and Lupin's tattered robes had caught fire! Lucius laughed while Lupin frantically tried to kill the fire around him in panic that was dangerously growing. Harry knew Lupin needed his immediate help and attempted to conjure a spout of water to kill the fire, but he forgot how to.

Lupin was burning; Hermione was in trouble. Confusion reigned in on Harry. He danced on the spot not knowing what to do.

Fortunately Hagrid had tamed the huge dog, removed his mole skin coat, ran over towards Lupin, and covered him up with the coat to put out the fire just in time before Lupin got some serious burns. Harry then caught a glimpse of Lucius pointing his wand at them and he shouted, “Look out!”

Hagrid faced Lucius bravely and a few stunning spells bounced of his front. Harry thought the little giant was going to fall over them so he pulled Lupin away just in case. Hagrid, however, became even more furious with Lucius and he advanced towards him. Lucius looked extremely shocked upon seeing that his spells weren't having any effect against Hagrid, and he opted for his ultimate weapon. “Avada…”

Since the killing curse required him to say the incantation longer than usual, Lucius had no time to complete saying it. Hagrid had reached him, grabbed a wide-eyed and screaming Lucius by the neck with his left hand, and gave him a walloping uppercut with the other that sent him flying up and backwards. When Lucius landed on the floor, he was out cold.

“That'll teach yeh not teh piss me off!” Hagrid growled satisfactorily over the unconscious Malfoy. He then turned to Harry and said, “I've been wantin' teh do that fer a long time!”

“Harry, go after Wormtail - I-I can't!” Lupin told Harry, wincing in pain because of his burns.

Harry quickly nodded and ran towards the stairs. He knew that Hagrid could not fit into the stairway from the looks of it and Sirius was hurting from the Cruciatus Curse so bad. Harry was all to himself. He didn't care if he'd face Voldemort again - he didn't want to lose Hermione to the Death Eaters or him.

The stair was short and soon he had stepped on to the ground floor in a large room made of stone connected to the Main Hallway. Harry looked around with his wand out. There was a large doorway at a distance; finding there was no other way out of this room but the door, he concluded that it was where Wormtail may have gone to with Hermione and he ran nearer towards to cross it.

Before Harry entered the next room, he got to the side of the doorway and pressed himself against the wall. Wand extended, he peeked around the threshold for any signs of resistance. It was dark and spooky at the other room, which was identical to the area and height as the last one. A wide circular, mossy altar with a stone sculpture of a unicorn being attacked by dark creatures over a small pond was at the center, illuminated by a white eerie glow with no apparent source of light. Harry looked up and saw that the next room was bounded by narrow mezzanines and supported by many wide circular columns lining up at both sides. Harry suspected that the mezzanines were the perfect place for anyone who'd be waiting to ambush him and he was in constant anticipation for any form of attack.

Harry knew Wormtail had been gone for a long time and may have gained a comfortable head start, but he didn't want to walk into an ambush. Such cautiousness didn't serve him well for his part, but Harry had no choice but to be wary of being reckless or he'd never be able to save Hermione if somebody would succeed in taking him out. He didn't walk through the center of the room so he cautiously walked beside the walls. The only sound he could hear was the running water of the altar. There were no other doors in sight.

At the center far end of the room stood a thirty-foot stone sculpture of a beast he never seen before in his life. It had feet of a bull, a body of a lion with eight long protruding limbs of a spider, a hairy torso of a human like that of a centaur, but its head was the scariest thing he had seen in his life. It had seven red eyes, three horns, and a large mouth with the sharpest of fangs. Harry shuddered to think that something like that would be alive on this earth, and snatched his gaze away from it. The last thing that he noticed was an engraving on stone, which read: “Vahaul”. He ignored it, not knowing what it was about, and turned his concentration back on his task ahead.

“Wormtail!” Harry called. His voice echoed around the large room but he got no answer. He kept walking along the walls and heightened his alertness.

Soon, he heard a low laugh. Harry looked around to see where it came from but he didn't see anyone.

“Who's there?” Harry shouted. “Show yourself.”

“Do you really care for your Mudblood friend, Harry?” the voice echoed. Harry immediately recognized whose voice it was: Voldemort's.

Harry gripped his wand tighter. “Why??? Do you have her?” he said.

“Yes,” Voldemort's voice replied. “And she's waiting for you…”

“Then I demand you release her to me!” Harry yelled.

Voldemort's laugh rang around the room and it was followed shortly by Wormtail's. A bright spotlight shined on one area near a faraway wall opposite the altar and Harry could see Voldemort standing beside an excited Wormtail. Harry walked a few steps nearer to them but stopped at a safe distance from them and just a few feet before the altar.

“I knew you'd come looking for her, Harry,” Voldemort said. “It was the only way to bring you to me after being tried to be rescued by your other friends. Wormtail made a good decision after seeing my Death Eaters almost losing against your side to bring the Mudblood to me as bait. You've slipped away from me too many times, Harry. Tonight you won't survive this last meeting of ours, I will make sure of that.”

Harry heard a very loud rattle from the direction of the doorway and thick steel grilles slammed down on the ground shut. That was apparently the only way out of this room and he was trapped. Harry glared back at Voldemort, faced him, and went into a ready posture to duel him. However, a spell had hit Harry from his side and he slumped on the floor with intense pain. He looked up and around from the floor. It neither came from Voldemort nor Wormtail who were laughing directly at his front. Harry glanced to his side and let out a sob when he learned Hermione was the one who cursed him.

“H-Hermione,” Harry gasped. Voldemort had possessed her again, and Harry saw she had not worn her protective earmuffs that were supposed to block the words that activated the serum. He didn't even recall ever seeing her wear them at all when they joined the scientists in their dash to freedom.

Harry didn't want to fight her. If he would have it, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her with offensive spells. But what could he do when she wasn't herself and didn't mind at all to curse him? Harry picked up his wand and struggled to stand up, hoping that he didn't have to curse her. However, he knew he had to make a choice very soon.

Voldemort laughed. “She's mine, now, Harry,” he said. “She will become wand fodder to this new war against my enemies as she's a Mudblood, an emotionless robot with no fear of injury or death. Such is the power of my serum and soon I'll have more servants like her who'll follow no one but Lord Voldemort! Attack him, Mudblood!”

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione shouted, and Harry flew back by the force of the disarmament spell, denying him of his wand. He landed painfully on the floor and gazed straightly at Hermione, who wore a very frightening face while keeping her wand pointed at him. Harry realized he didn't have to be a gentleman - he had to protect himself against her now. He hoped it didn't get to the point where he'd inadvertently kill or maim her.

“Petrificus…” Hermione started, but Harry had stood up quickly, fighting the pain throughout his body, and shoulder-rolled to the side to dodge the spell. Harry had gotten closer to his wand. He snatched it off the floor and pointed it back to Hermione.

“Petrificus Totalus!” he bellowed at once after he found his balance.

“Protego Tria!” Hermione had shouted at the same time.

Harry's curse bounced off Hermione's impenetrable shield. She released it and quickly yelled, “Lartigo!” The long electrical cord sprang from the tip of her wand; she spun her wand in one fluid motion and guided the glimmering whip to snap it towards Harry.

Harry scrambled for cover behind the altar; Hermione's whip caught the water spout, which was the unicorn's single horn, and shredding it to a thousand pieces.

“Impressive, Harry,” Voldemort laughed. “We'll see who's going to prevail between the two of you. Do the unforgivable curses on Harry, Mudblood. I order you!”

Hermione nodded at the direction of Voldemort and returned her attention to Harry, who was bent low behind the altar away from her. Hermione narrowed her eyes with her wand pointed to the ground and walked around the altar to try to catch Harry out of cover. Harry had never seen her look this dangerous in his whole life, and it wasn't very comforting.

“Hermione! Please, it's me, Harry!” he said, attempting to talk her out of it even though he knew it was an exercise in futility. She just kept on hunting for him.

“That will not work, Harry,” Voldemort reminded him. “She will only obey me…”

Hermione kept rounding the altar, and Harry knew if he kept on countering her he will expose his back to Voldemort in a short while. He had to do something fast! He didn't know what went into his mind, but he made a very hasty decision and he whipped around to run for a nearby pillar with his back to her. Hermione made a few sidesteps, aimed her wand carefully to the fleeing Harry, and shot a piece of shimmering rope to his feet. The rope caught him squarely around his ankles and he fell down forward on the floor painfully. His wand had rolled way ahead of him.

Voldemort laughed again. “Good move, Mudblood! How foolish of you to run away like that, Harry. Have your pathetic teachers ever taught you that you should never turn you back against your enemy when dueling?”

Harry rolled upright and tried to remove the tight rope on his feet but it was firmly bounded by it. He couldn't find a way to take it off his legs. Harry then struggled to crawl towards his wand, which lay more than three yards away from him. Hermione walked casually towards him, her wand kept pointed.

“Do the curse, Mudblood!” growled Voldemort. “Make it nice and long!” Harry's eyes went wide, knowing what was coming.

“Crucio!” Hermione growled.

Harry had experienced too much of this curse but he couldn't help but yell in pain each time. He cried for Hermione's name, pleading in the name of Merlin to stop giving him the excruciating curse, but it fell on deaf ears. After a full minute, Hermione cut the curse, leaving Harry sobbing and groaning on the ground.

“Good work, my servant, I'll take it from here now,” Voldemort told Hermione, and she backed up a couple of steps away from Harry. Voldemort strode slowly towards him.

Fighting intense lingering pain, Harry desperately crawled on forward for his wand. It was almost within his reach, but Voldemort brushed it further away from him with a flick of his wand. Harry looked back and stared up at him, looking defeated.

“You've irked me for too long, Harry,” Voldemort said calmly. “Too long. I shall not spare you this time…you must die now…”

“And I won't spare you, too, if you'll go on to succeed killing my student, Tom,” Dumbledore warned.

Voldemort snapped his head towards Dumbledore whose eyes was literally on fire. Wormtail shook upon the sight of him and hid behind his master.

“How did you get in here?” Voldemort snarled. It was the very first time Harry had seen fear drawn across his terrible face.

“It's not important how I got in here, Tom,” Dumbledore replied, now raising his wand at him. “What is important is how you'll get off of my wrath unscathed!”

“Crucio!” Voldemort shouted, but at the same time Dumbledore had vanished, sending the curse off to the far wall. A split second later Dumbledore had reappeared behind Voldemort, caught him in a fiery whip from his wand, and hurled him across the room. Voldemort disapparated before he could land back on the floor from high up above. Dumbledore ignored Hermione, who was just staring forward listlessly.

Voldemort had apparated back in a new position at a distance behind Dumbledore sending a series of tiny lightning bolts against him in quick succession. Dumbledore calmly conjured a thin shield in front of him that deflected all the projectiles away.

“Is that the best you can do, Tom?” Dumbledore taunted him. He then waved his wand around the air, leaving a blistering red and sparkling light in its wake.

Voldemort may have known what Dumbledore was about to do because he backed away. “To my front, Mudblood!” he ordered Hermione.

Whatever it was he was doing, Dumbledore perhaps could not stop the spell because eyes had widened when he saw Hermione suddenly walking in the line of fire. With one more flick of his wand and changing its light from purple to blue, Dumbledore released his spell. A jet of bright blue beam zoomed out of his wand and hit Hermione squarely on her chest!

“NO!!!” Harry screamed when Dumbledore's spell enveloped Hermione with a brilliant blue force; she shook uncontrollably while several balls of light spun around her rapidly like electrons of an atom. Hermione was the nucleus and several rays of light shone out of her.

Voldemort laughed from behind Hermione, knowing that Dumbledore had killed her; Harry yelled her name while Dumbledore looked on at the spectacle in front of him very seriously.

“Headmaster, what did you just do?” Harry cried at him. “She's innocent!”

However, Dumbledore didn't listen to Harry. He raised his wand again and pointed it back to Hermione. With a mutter of another spell, Hermione's light connected with his wand and it seemed to absorb everything out from her. A bright ball of blue light lingered on the tip of Dumbledore's wand, becoming suddenly more intense. At the same time Hermione fell down to the floor, the bright blue ball of light went off like a bullet, crossed above Hermione's sprawled body, and slammed violently against a disbelieving Voldemort.

Harry rubbed his eyes to adjust with the now diffused surroundings. When he opened his eyes, there was no sign of Voldemort in the room anymore. The first thing he cared to do was to skip leg-locked towards Hermione, who was slumped on the floor immobile.

Wormtail shuddered upon realizing that his master wasn't around him anymore. Dumbledore snapped a dangerous look at him and he fled in panic instantly.

“H-Hermione, please don't be dead…speak to me, please!” Harry cried when he reached her, lifting her head up to rest on his lap. He then looked around for Dumbledore, who was walking calmly towards him. “WHAT DID YOU JUST DO, SIR?!?” he yelled the question a second time.

“She will be allright, Harry, I assure you,” Dumbledore told him calmly, dropping down on one knee, and feeling Hermione's forehead. “I chose to use her reserve mana to magnify that spell against Lord Voldemort. I admit it's not a gentlemanly way to do so, but the spell needed the mana of another witch for it to be effective.”

“Then she's not dead?” Harry breathed.

“No, Harry. She will be allright and will come to when she regains strength. I wouldn't want to use that spell if I knew it would hurt her so.”

Harry blew out some air from his lungs, knowing that Dumbledore told him that with sincerity. “O-Okay, sir. What about Voldemort?” He said, looking around for him.

“I sent him in another dimension,” Dumbledore replied. “Temporarily, at least, just enough time for us to vacate Xanthius.”

“I wish you would have killed him then, sir…” Harry muttered.

Dumbledore just sighed and said, “If I was as evil as him, I would have killed him on the spot. But there are - valid reasons - why I can't. I will let you know in due time. Come - let's start evacuating this fortress before he returns…”

Harry nodded and started to carry Hermione by his arms, but Dumbledore squeezed Harry's forearm. “It's better if I do that…you're hurting and…Snipendo!” Dumbledore cut the tight rope around his legs with a zap of his wand.

“Th-Thank you, sir,” Harry sighed. Dumbledore then bent down, lifted Hermione with his arms, and began walking out of the room. The steel grilled door was still shut, but when Dumbledore went near it, a large part of it went invisible.

So this was how the Headmaster had walked in the closed room undetected, Harry thought. It amazed him how simple it was for Dumbledore to think of things to go around obstacles. They walked through it like it wasn't there.

“Can we destroy Xanthius before we get out of here, Professor?” Harry hoped loudly while he walked alongside him.

“I wish, but that would take loads of time, Harry,” Dumbledore replied when they went down the stairs leading to the pit. “There will be other opportunities to attempt that but I'm more concerned about your and the other's safety back at Hogwarts now. Hermione needs immediate medical care to ensure she's in good health, and Madam Pomfrey is standing by to accept her and the injured once we step back into Hogsmeade.”

“Dumbledore, we need to get out of here now!” Sirius said when they met at the pit. “Ramius said he can only hold the portal in a short time.”

Dumbledore nodded.

When Sirius and Harry saw each other, they hugged together very tightly. “I'm happy you're all right, Harry! I became worried when word flew you were kidnapped…”

“I'm glad you're all right, too, Sirius,” Harry replied. “But I won't be until Hermione does…”

“Yes, I know how you love her…”

“Have the others gone through the portal, Sirius?” Dumbledore asked him.

“Yeah. All except for me, Nettleson, Hagrid, and his new pet. We were waiting for you to come back. Everybody else suffered some sort of injuries and they're being treated by Madam Pomfrey.”

“Good. Where's Lucius?”

Sirius laughed a little. “Whipple insisted they be arrested, so we pushed them through the portal, too. We didn't get my `dear' cousin Bellatrix - she came back from dreamland quickly and dissaparated before we could catch her again.”

“Bloody hell!” Harry cursed.

“The feeling's mutual, Harry,” Sirius said, and he pursed his lips.

Just then, they all heard a howling sound echo throughout Xanthius.

“Voldemort's back, and he's angry - we must go,” Dumbledore said calmly. Harry and Sirius knew they had to get out at once or else things would get nasty again.

They walked up a transparent stair leading up to the ground floor from the pit, and they met Hagrid and Nettleson anxiously waiting for them beside the glowing portal.

“Blimey! Wha' happened to little Hermione?” Hagrid howled. “Oh, I can' look at her…” he said, looking away.

“She'll be okay, Hagrid,” Dumbledore assured him. “See you at the other side…”

“We'll be righ' behind yeh, Headmaster,” he said, sobbing. “Harry…”

Harry just nodded at him, looking apprehensive about the possibility of Voldemort holding them up again. Sirius let him cross the portal first. When Harry emerged at the other side, there were many people shivering and waiting for them under the cold evening sky. Ron was one of them.

“H-Harry!” he yelled, running over towards him and embraced him. “You okay?” he said. Madam Pomfrey, however, broke them up, pushed Harry down on an empty chair, covered him up with a thick blanket, and began examining him without saying anything.

“Yeah, I'm okay Ron, thanks,” Harry replied to him, looking over Madam Pomfrey's shoulders. “But Hermione needs medical attention - she's hurt…”

Ron grabbed his own head with both hands and he looked extremely worried. Dumbledore then appeared at the portal, carrying Hermione over his arms. “Madam Pomfrey,” he called, “I'll bring Harry to the hospital wing personally - Hermione needs the most urgent attention.”

Madam Pomfrey placed a hand over her aching chest and conjured a floating stretcher instantly. She didn't wait a second too long to rush Hermione towards the hospital wing when Dumbledore had place her on top of the stretcher.

“What happened to her, Harry?” Ron asked him, still awfully worried.

“Loads,” Harry simply answered him, looking pale.

“You both look really beat up back there,” Ron said. “I got really very worried when you and Hermione both disappeared through that portal with the Death Eaters after that dog stampede…Arghhhh!!!”

Hagrid and his new pet, the Hybrid dog that joined in the fray at the pit back in Xanthius, squeezed out of the portal. It wasn't only Ron who screamed, but most of the people around, too.

“Oh, I see you've met my new pet, Garth!” Hagrid said brightly to everyone. “Don't be afraid, he's one li'l gentle pooch, he is. Look at him!”

Garth panted in front of Hagrid excitedly.

“Gentle?” Whipple said incredulously, who was lying on a stretcher on the ground behind the wall of people. They stepped to the side to allow him to see Hagrid. “Gentle? He almost trampled poor Trevor Colby to death and bit my leg off and you say he's tender?!?”

“Well, that was before I tamed him,” Hagrid shrugged. Garth sat down beside him and licked his hair, leaving a big blob of saliva all over him. “Ain't you cute you li'l mongrel?” he cooed at him.

“Headmaster,” Harry said, standing up from his chair when Dumbledore went over to him with Sirius (he had changed into a black dog before crossing over the portal). “I-I just remembered Hermione's still under the influence of the serum - we need a real Death Eater to say the counter-phrase…”

“I've already arranged for that, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled, lifting a gentle hand towards him. “We've got just the right man to do that…”

“Who?” Harry asked, bewildered. He gazed over to Lucius Malfoy and several of Voldemort's top henchmen who were still out cold and bounded on the snow. Harry looked back at Dumbledore, doubting if they will ever cooperate with them. “Them, sir?”

Dumbledore shook his head and whispered to Harry beside his ear, “Professor Snape.” Dumbledore drew back and winked at him.

Harry exhaled and nodded at him. He hoped Hermione would soon snap out of her mesmerized state and they will be reunited as soon as possible.

“Harry, you need to report to Madam Pomfrey at the hospital wing as soon as possible to clear you for injuries,” Dumbledore told him. “Snuffles will escort you back to Hogwarts…and Ron, too.”

Ron smiled at Dumbledore, and Harry grinned at him gratefully.

“And after you're finished being treated, I'm going to have to ask you to go to my office immediately. We need to talk about your experience with some people who're waiting for you there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Right, then, a carriage is waiting to take you to Hogwarts,” he said. “People, let us through please, medical emergency,” he told the curious crowd milling around them. “You will learn about what happened the next morning, I promise, so good night.”

Ron led Harry and Sirius through the groaning crowd towards a waiting carriage pulled by what Harry described as a skeletal horse that he had seen for the first time. When he stepped inside the carriage, he heard a whooshing sound. He looked back, and didn't longer see the portal where it was standing anymore. The gates to Xanthius had been closed, hopefully for good. Harry, however, had a strong feeling that he had not seen the last of it.

Ron was the last to get in the carriage. He sat in front of Harry and Sirius then closed the small door and the carriage jolted in motion. Harry looked out and he caught a glimpse of Lupin being loaded on a stretcher and waving at him. Harry smiled slightly, nodded at him, and waved back at him as a sign of thanks for helping bail him out of Xanthius. Harry breathed, leaned back on his seat, and opened his eyes to see a concerned Ron staring at him.

“I'm all right, Ron,” he said softly, smiling.

Ron nodded slowly. “I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Hermione, Harry,” he said apologetically. “I wish I would've suffered along with you - I'm such a bad friend.”

“Oh, please don't think about that, Ron,” Harry said gently with no air of bad feelings in his voice. “I'm glad you didn't, because it would've been hard to see you suffer, too. That doesn't make you a bad friend like you think…the Death Eaters just got me and Hermione and it wasn't your fault.”

“I should've tried harder to take you back before you crossed that portal to You-Know-What…” he moaned.

“No matter how much you tried, Ron, we were already through it and the Death Eaters made sure you couldn't stop them,” Harry smiled. “But thanks for trying to save us back there…there were lesser Death Eaters to reckon with back at Xanthius because of it and it made a huge difference for us.”

Sirius panted with agreement.

“You're welcome,” Ron grinned. “Next time, I'll be around for the trio for sure. I won't be a prat anymore to you. You can count on that!”

Harry grinned at what Ron told him, but it then flickered when the carriage passed by Hallen Rodd's lifeless body, which was on top of a cart pulled by a horse and covered in part by a canvass. Harry pulled out his wand slowly and sadly, and raised it high to his front as a sign of respect and tribute to him.

“Goodbye and thank you for everything, Hal,” Harry muttered.

-o0o-

When Harry, Ron, Sirius, and Dumbledore stepped foot inside the hospital wing, Hermione was already awake. The moaning Auror Trevor Colby had been wrapped by casts from head to foot and Tonks was sitting up on her hospital bed.

“Wotcher, Harry!” Tonks said. “You okay?”

Harry smiled back at her, nodding his head. “I hope you are, too,” he said.

Hermione had heard Harry's name being mentioned, turned her head over her pillow to look at him and smiled though she looked very sleepy. “Hi, Harry,” she said weakly, “Don't worry, it's me now…”

Harry went over to her bedside, squeezed her hand, proceeded to place his head gently on top of her forehead and kissed her. “How're you feeling, love?”

“Groggy,” she replied, grinning. “Hi, Ron!”

“H-Hi!” he said.

“I'm very glad we're back in Hogwarts safely, Harry,” Hermione sighed, “after that terrible nightmare with Voldemort...I'm sure I'll never forget it as long as I live…”

“I know the feeling,” Ron commented.

“I know. The last thing I remember before I saw Snape scowling down over me was Wormtail throwing me to the ground and hearing Voldemort's voice…” she added with a breaking voice. “I know he controlled me again - what I don't know is what I did…”

Ron looked visibly confused. “What's she talking about, Harry?”

“I-I'll explain everything to you later, Ron, I promise,” Harry replied. “It's a long story, but you do need to know about it.” Harry then returned his attention back to Hermione. “We dueled,” Harry told her mildly. “You gave me such a nasty Cruciatus Curse but I know I can't blame you.”

Hermione grimaced, feeling guilty again. (Ron said “Whoa!”)

“What else? Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for everything!”

“Loads, but what's done is done, Hermione. What matters is we're back safely - especially you - and we're far away from Voldemort's influence for now…”

Hermione nodded but she knew she had not seen the last of Voldemort. He may be planning something more sinister to do next against them as they spoke. “How did we even get away with him?”

Harry told her how Dumbledore saved them from Voldemort's clutches and what he did to her before banishing Voldemort to another dimension temporarily. Hermione understood at once what spell Dumbledore used against her and Voldemort because she had naturally read about it.

“Talk about hitting two birds with one stone,” Hermione said, nodding her head in comprehension. “Brilliant move, Dumbledore did.”

“But he attacked you, didn't he?” Harry said.

“Not really,” Hermione replied, making a lot of effort to push herself upright on her bed. “It looked like an attack on me but it wasn't. He used the Phantom Charm - wizards sometimes use it, but most of the time it's a desperate move to get out of a duel. You use another wizard or witch's mana to make it as powerful as you can make it to send your enemy to another magical dimension - for a limited time, that is - to give you time to escape. Of course, I lost consciousness and Dumbledore rendered me harmless without hurting me. The only problem is I just need to recharge my mana for a couple of days, but I don't mind, really. I approve of what he did…”

“Cool,” Ron said. “Stunning would be a little offensive, you know, and it sometimes hurts to so it makes sense. Dumbledore didn't want to think he did something to hurt any one of you. But one thing that still amazes me, Hermione, is how you could still explain things clearly like a teacher even if you look like you're stoned…”

What Ron said gave Hermione a reason to smile.

“Luckily, Voldemort didn't see it coming,” Harry added. “Sometimes I think it's his weakness - he gets so smug about everything that it gives his opponents a rare chance to outmaneuver him with a simple spell.”

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and walked towards Harry. Without saying any word she suddenly grabbed Harry, shoved him over to another bed beside Hermione's, and pried his mouth open to examine his throat even though she had already done this back at Hogsmeade.

“I-I think I'm okay, Madam Pomfrey…” Harry said stuffily.

“I say you're not!” she yelled. “Not until I say so otherwise…you stay on the bed while I grab a few potions for you to drink.” She whipped around and walked hurriedly to her storage room.

Harry sighed deeply and Ron sat down at his bedside, patting his arm. “What else did Madam Pomfrey tell you what to do, Hermione?” Harry groaned.

“Bed rest,” she simply replied. “Just a few little bruises all over, but no serious damage, fortunately.” Hermione looked around like what she was going to say was a big secret and said quietly to Harry “Did Francs make it here alive?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “But I don't know where he is and Willard.”

“I met Willard out of the portal,” Ron told them. “We talked for a while but then they asked Snape and some Aurors to escort them to Hogwarts immediately. I don't know why.”

“Maybe they didn't want to lose time starting to produce an anti-Serum,” Harry hoped. “Amazing Snape didn't shun them.”

“I'd like to think Dumbledore told him not to refuse them,” Hermione grinned. “Or else…”

“Oh, well,” Ron shrugged. “I've been hearing you talk a lot about some kind of a serum but I still don't have a clue what the bloody hell it is, but I'll just wait to hear your story soon, Harry.”

“Remind me sometime…”

“Then that means I still have it,” Hermione moaned. “I hope they'll discover an anti-serum soon and I'll roll up my sleeve at once for it…”

“Not until it's proven safe, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, walking over to her from the door. Remus Lupin went in by stretcher next, and he looked like he was in extreme pain because of his burns. Several students were peeking curiously right through the doorway and Dumbledore closed it with a wave of his wand.

“Oh, don't worry about Professor Lupin,” Dumbledore said. “Essence of Murtlap will do the trick in no time - how're you feeling, Hermione?”

“Fine, but a little flimsy, thanks,” she smiled.

“Mr. Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux have immediately started toiling away to produce the antidote for Voldemort's terrible serum,” Dumbledore announced. “I've been in the potions lab and they are very confident they will perfect it within a week after doing a series of tests to ensure it will be safe to administer to victims.”

“A week?” Harry and Hermione moaned.

“Yes, unfortunately, but they're happy they have identified the last ingredient already. At the meantime, you must remember, Hermione, that you still have the potential to be possessed by any Death Eater until you take the antidote. However, I will ensure that no more Death Eater will ever infiltrate Hogwarts ever again. It's high time we review the magic around Hogwarts - the last time it was overhauled was during the time of Headmaster Dippet. Nevertheless, as long as you're here, you're safe and you can forget about what's running in your veins.”

“That'll be a little hard to do, sir, but I trust you,” Hermione said.

“Oh, I have something for you.”

Hermione wondered what Dumbledore had for her. The Headmaster took out a long box from his robe pocket and handed it to her.

“Oh, Headmaster, you didn't have to buy me a new wand…” she said, blushing.

Dumbledore merely smiled at her and said, “Just open it…”

Hermione's draw dropped.

“What is it?” Harry asked, craning his neck to see what was inside from his bed.

“I don't believe it!” she said hoarsely. “It's my wand!”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked her. “But you left it in the throne room…”

“I'm positive…Headmaster, where did you find this?”

“From Cassius Wallace,” Dumbledore replied.

“Wallace? The Death Eater?” Hermione frowned.

“Actually, Ramius Palkov,” Dumbledore chuckled. “He's an animorphagus and took on the identity of Cassius to infiltrate Xanthius. He's our only agent there and we're happy his real identity has not been compromised despite all what happened there. We still have the real Cassius Wallace with us, and thanks to Olga, they've squeezed a lot of juice from him in her hideout. I must ask you to keep this as our deep secret - after how you were involved with Xanthius, I felt you deserved to know what we're doing against Voldemort.” He winked and Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded.

“Hear that, Tonks?” Remus yelled from his bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I'll watch my mouth from now on,” she said impatiently, scratching her head.

“So, it was actually Ramius,” Harry said slowly. “But why didn't he help us - I saw Wallace when we were brought to the throne room…”

Dumbledore nodded. “Well, his orders were to keep his identity secret at all times and ignore anything he saw that would compromise him. He's the only mole we have in Xanthius, but he couldn't ignore you at all when he saw you were captured by Lord Voldemort. He risked everything to hold the portal open and informed us he had you. I was just in Hogsmeade with Remus Lupin all the time, at the Hogshead cellar where Sirius stays when he visits Hogwarts. Remus is a difficult man to control sometimes, but he often has good judgment and we're lucky that he did this time though I already asked him not to do it again. He even went into a little adventure on his own in Xanthius and helped the scientists plan to escape.”

“I should have known it was him, but of course, how could I? I really didn't have a clue anyway!” Harry laughed, and then he sighed.

“Something bothering you, Harry?”

He sighed again and nodded. “Sir, I just thought…I'm very sorry for goofing again this time - if I had been extra careful we wouldn't have been brought to Xanthius…”

“Me, too,” Hermione added. “I got caught off guard…I shouldn't have let them inject that serum into me at the first place.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly, looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione who looked visibly ashamed at him. “If those are the reasons why you're both feeling that you've put yourselves, me, and all of the people that care for you down, it might surprise you that I say they're not really valid enough reasons to feel bad about.”

Harry and Hermione looked at Dumbledore at the same time.

“First of all,” Dumbledore went on, walking in between Harry and Hermione's bed, “Voldemort and his henchmen are the only ones to blame for everything bad that happened to you both lately. They willed this to happen, Harry, to bring you to Xanthius with any means necessary. In this case, they did think of something wicked and novel to make that a reality and they went into lengths to abduct many good scientists to produce their serum. Whatever precautionary measures you and I were taking, especially when we're clueless about their plans, they will make sure they succeeded. So, Harry, please don't keep on thinking that you could have prevented your abduction in Xanthius if you have just been extra careful. Didn't I tell you before that even the wisest wizard can be hoodwinked by Voldemort?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Hermione, it's not your fault if the Death Eaters invaded you house in the dead of the night to inject you with the serum. They caught you while you were sleeping peacefully, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Henry Seymour talked about everything after he was arrested via Veritaserum. He told us everything, including how they succeeded in possessing you. I am really shocked about them doing that - it's a despicable act invading your privacy, much more administering some drug to you against your will. So, please, don't ever think that whatever happened to you recently you will be responsible. Victims can't choose what their victimizers would do to them.”

“Okay, thank you, Headmaster,” Hermione said, and Dumbledore smiled at Harry and her broadly.

“To make feel better further, and I tell you this in truth, that in my opinion despite the terrible things that you have both experienced under Lord Voldemort's captivity, this recent adventure of yours did do something good for our side.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at Dumbledore, bewildered. “What could anything be good about it, sir?” Harry asked.

“I wish you went through everything with no injury - both physical and emotional - but I know that's impossible when you come face to face with Lord Voldemort. But Willard Wraskon told me what you did back there. I felt very proud after hearing his story. Thanks to your efforts, several of the scientists, and most importantly Francs Girbeaux, have succeeded in escaping Xanthius. They were woefully unmatched against the Death Eaters with their spears and clubs. You supported their escape with magic, and that made a huge difference. If not for you, they would have all been slaughtered. If that happened we will never know how to counter Lord Voldemort's serum. We will all have lost against his new weapon. The likelihood of the serum to take control of the whole wizard world is not farfetched. I cannot imagine then how we would ever defeat that threat…”

“But the anti-serum hadn't been discovered yet, Professor,” Harry told him. “What we did might not have any significance then.”

“Mr. Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux know that they've done it, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled. “The only thing that they will do now is to ensure it won't create negative side effects, but that's only a very minor thing according to them. We will have our safe antidote in a week and Hermione will be treated with it soon.”

“I'm looking forward to it, sir,” Hermione grinned. She yawned and sank deeper down her bed. “I feel itchy each I remember I still have it. So, what do we do now?”

“I say you rest,” Madam Pomfrey said, bringing over some flasks of greenish-blue potions. She gave Harry and Hermione each. “Except for Hermione, Harry can drink the potion and he can leave the hospital wing. Exertion and stress can exacerbate some relatively harmless effects brought by the Phantom Charm - but they're effects nonetheless and I don't like discharging Hermione from my hospital wing until I'm satisfied she has a clean bill of health!”

“That means don't try to argue with Madam Pomfrey, Hermione,” Dumbledore winked at her. “It's stress, too.”

Hermione arched her lips and blew up a few strands of her bangs.

“As far as I'm concerned Hermione's problem with her amnesia attacks had been gone for ages,” Madam Pomfrey added. “Quite unfortunate it coincided with the effects of this serum and we thought she still had her amnesia attacks…drink up, Potter!”

Harry swallowed his potion and coughed because it was extremely bitter.

“Can I now bring Harry to my office, Poppy?” Dumbledore asked. “Cornelius Fudge is waiting for him there.”

“Fudge?” Harry repeated.

“He asked for a chance to interview you about your experience in Xanthius. After the fortress revealed itself to everyone, he had no more excuse to deny its existence.”

“I see there's no reason to keep Harry here much longer,” Madam Pomfrey. “He can go, Headmaster.”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said. “Come, Harry, I'll escort you to my office.” They both began to walk out of the hospital wing.

“See you around Harry,” Ron and Hermione both said at the same time.

Dumbledore stopped and looked at Ron. “Do you want to go with your best friend, Ronald?” he asked, his eyes twinking.

Ron stood up from his seat at once. “You bet!”

“Just tell me what you talked about there, guys,” Hermione told them disappointedly.

“Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said after glancing at a sad-faced Hermione. “It's okay…”

Ron knew at once what Dumbledore meant. He dug up half of his Extended Ear and placed it on Hermione's night table. “You won't miss out with the discussion with this,” he grinned.

Hermione smiled back at him from ear to ear.

-o0o-

“Hello, Harry,” Cornelius Fudge greeted him humbly when he went inside the Headmaster's office with Dumbledore and Ron. “I hope you are well…”

“Good evening, Minister,” Harry said, picking up a chair to sit upon Dumbledore's signal. “I'm fine now, thank you.”

Aside from Fudge, his administrator Horace Whipple (who was sporting a large cast from elbow to wrist on his right arm and standing on a crutch on the other side), Minerva McGonagall, Snuffles (Sirius' alias when he became a dog), and a shamefaced Percy Weasley were present in the office (much to Ron's extreme annoyance).

“After all I did for this school, the employees of the Ministry, and the public in general,” Fudge said, “it's difficult for me to admit I made a very costly mistake on how to treat the - warnings - of You-Know-Who's return and the existence of his fortress. I should have not denied anything and rejected your story about it. I know I made things very difficult for an undetermined number of people. For this, I offer you my sincerest apology for ever doubting you, Harry.”

Harry glanced at Dumbledore who was now seated behind his desk. Dumbledore gave him a curt nod and big smile.

“I accept your apology, Minister,” Harry said sincerely. “But, really, I understand how hard it was to accept the fact that Lord - I mean, You-Know-Who - had really come back.”

“Yes, yes, that's right,” Fudge muttered, and he looked grateful after Harry accepted his apology. “But it does not justify the confusion and hardship I caused for the wizard world by killing the - rumors as I've called them. What's worse, I didn't know I assisted the Death Eaters, especially Lucius - damn that traitor - in paving the way to you. How stupid of me of letting myself get used for their sinister plans.” He shook his head with real disappointment.

Harry just kept silent.

“Where's Malfoy, now, anyway?” Fudge asked Percy.

“Mr. Malfoy is being transported back to London for interrogation, Minister,” Percy replied.

“Good, good,” Fudge said. “I'll have a word with him - I'll give all his bribes to the Ministry to charity - won't say who's money it is.”

“That would be a good idea, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said.

Fudge grunted and nodded. “The ominous appearance of You-Know-What for all to see just this afternoon was indisputable proof of You-Know-Who's return. His voice was heard all over the wizard world in Britain…”

“How're the people taking it, Minister?” Harry asked.

“Not well, I'm afraid,” he replied gloomily. “We're helping mobilize the volunteers who want to fight You-Know-Who, but to me not everyone wants to risk being identified as part of the effort to defeat him. They're still scared of retribution from the Death Eaters. Not until everyone's convinced we could fight against You-Know-Who will they consider it bravely. There's a looming new war and the Ministry is working overtime to counter the terror of You-Know-Who.”

“Does this mean school's closed?” Ron asked Fudge hopefully.

“In your dreams, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall replied for Fudge. “Classes will go on and you will have your OWLs as scheduled at the end of the year.”

Ron groaned but then shrugged it off.

“Harry,” Fudge said, “could you please testify to us what happened back at You-Know-What the first and second time? If it's okay…”

Harry looked at Dumbledore for guidance, and he got another nod. Harry knew it was a long story, but it seemed they had all the time in the world to hear his story. It was refreshing for Harry to talk about his experiences with the wizard world's elected leader, the Minister of Magic, who now was ready to believe what he was going to tell him. Before this, the Minister's mind was closed to any suggestions of Voldemort's return, but many things happened in a short span of time for everyone to see that he could no longer keep denying it. Harry knew they were allies now, not enemies.

Harry talked about everything in vivid detail to Fudge, including how the Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts and how they led Harry and Hermione to Xanthius. Fudge was very attentive, and he kept nodding while Harry told him his story. After almost an hour, Harry had finished.

Fudge took off his glasses, wiped the lenses with a soft cloth, and sighed deeply. “Your story jibes with Henry Seymour's confession through Veritaserum about his activities and his information about the names of other Death Eaters in the Ministry, Harry. Oh, Williby, did you take down everything Harry said?”

“Yes, Minister,” Percy replied very slowly.

Fudge nodded. “Good,” he said, facing Harry again. “Harry, don't you know Seymour told us he was the one who murdered Professor Russelpunk?”

Harry breathed. He was afraid it was Hermione who murdered Russelpunk under the influence of the serum from the way she talked about it back in Hogsmeade, and he was relieved she didn't have blood in her hands. He had a strong suspicion it was Seymour or Burton, but he didn't have any proof then.

“No, sir,” Harry replied.

“Seymour confessed that he killed Russelpunk because he found out the professor took out his Death Eater paraphernalia in the trunk at his office,” Fudge explained. “We don't know how Russelpunk knew that Seymour was a Death Eater, but he seemed to have been obsessed with stealing some kind of a souvenir and Seymour wanted it back fearing that he will be unmasked as a Death Eater. What's strange is Seymour told us that Russelpunk expected Seymour to kill him and he didn't do anything to defend himself, thus, he was murdered.”

Harry thought that was indeed strange. Did Russelpunk have some kind of a death wish? But this proved one thing, though. Russelpunk was no Death Eater after all.

“Then does this mean Professor Dumbledore's cleared, sir?” Harry asked.

“With the confession of Seymour, Albus was innocent all along,” Fudge confirmed to Harry. “I was bent on pinning you with the murder I refused to believe otherwise. Seymour made me dance on his palm - I'm awed by Albus' sacrifice to own up to the crime just to save you, Harry. How stupid of me for being too hard to all of you. I'm so sorry.”

“Minister,” Percy said, “I think you have already apologized once too many…”

“Leave me alone, Weatherbee!” Fudge snapped at him. Percy hid behind his notebook quickly and returned to recording the minutes of the meeting. Ron laughed quietly.

“There are still other disturbing developments happening around the wizard world,” Fudge continued. “The Dementors of Azkaban have abandoned their posts just after the fortress emerged from obscurity and it is very likely they have joined up with You-Know-Who. Several imprisoned Death Eaters have escaped, including the Lestranges.”

“I've been Bellatrix in You-Know-What, Minister,” Harry told him. “But I didn't see any Dementors there yet.”

“Yes, I expected her to return to You-Know-Who,” Fudge nodded. “The Dementors have been wreaking havoc already, sucking souls along the way with the Kiss. Additionally Several murders have taken place under the Dark Mark, and there are reports of Muggle Borns helping the Death Eaters with security while they do their dirty work. You-Know-Who's forces are getting more bold and dangerous…”

“The serum's proliferating,” Dumbledore suggested.

“My suspicions, too,” Fudge said darkly. “Furthermore, the top potions masters Becca Cunningham and Rudy Roberts are still unaccounted for. The surviving scientists swore that they had never seen them anywhere while they were held prisoners. I suspect You-Know-Who still has them and are using them to produce more of the serum, or worse, for other projects. I hope Wraskon and Dr. Girbeaux can make the anti-serum in time and we'll have to produce and stockpile some supplies.”

“They're on to it, Cornelius,” Dumbledore assured him.

Fudge sighed again and looked straight at Dumbledore. “After realizing how bad a job I did in my incumbency, I recognize the fact that I'm not a good Minister of Magic and I'm not up to the task in leading the war against You-Know-Who. There are other persons in the Ministry who are fit to lead us as Minister of Magic, so I'll be handing in my resignation to the Winzegamot tonight, Albus.”

Everybody except Dumbledore and McGonagall looked surprised with his announcement.

“Are you sure what you're doing, Cornelius?” Dumbledore asked him gently.

Fudge glanced on the floor, straightened up, and nodded. “Yes, I'm sure. I can no longer lead the people when my credibility is destroyed. Tomorrow we will have a new Minister of Magic, and I will humbly offer him my full support whoever he will be.”

“It's a courageous thing that you're doing, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, standing up and offering him a handshake, which the Minister took. “Would you like for us to work together against Lord Voldemort? You have the wisdom and experience that we need.”

Harry didn't know what Dumbledore meant about Fudge having great wisdom. For him he was a blunderer, but as always, Harry always believed Dumbledore knew better than him and he respected his opinion even how awkward it seemed at the surface.

“Thank you, Albus, but I'd rather fade into the back of controversy and I respectfully decline your offer.”

“Very well, Cornelius, I understand,” Dumbledore smiled. “I have no hard feelings for you - you were just misled. You were a just victim of Lord Voldemort's like the rest of us.”

Fudge flinched finally, and smiled back at Dumbledore gratefully.

Whipple sighed. “I'm co-terminus with the Minister, so that means I'll be going back to a private life. It's been an honor working for you, Minister.” Fudge nodded at him.

“Mr. Whipple,” Dumbledore said after considering something for a long time. “We've lost another Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher five years in a row and I was wondering if you're interested with the job? You seem to be good with defensive magic.”

Whipple bore it in mind for a moment and said, “Thank you, sir, I'll think about it. I'll inform you about my decision by tomorrow, is that fine by you?”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “I appreciate it.”

“I'll just convince Horace the job's really not jinxed,” Fudge offered. “To me all the teachers' bad luck for the last five years are purely coincidental.”

“I'd rather die with a curse than an empty stomach if that's what you want to hear,” Whipple said, winking.

Fudge said goodbye to everyone, especially to Harry, and they all started to leave.

“Harry, could you stay for a moment?” Dumbledore said to him. “Ronald, you may stay if you wish.”

Harry looked at Ron, who merely shrugged at him.

“What is it, Professor?” Harry asked him gently.

“I have something to give you - a present from the recently deceased,” Dumbledore said morbidly. He bent down from his chair, opened a drawer, took out a small maroon box, and placed it on top of his desk.

“From the deceased, sir?” said Harry, bewildered. “From who?”

“Professor Russelpunk.”

Harry stared at him.

“He kept a journal of his own and wrote a small request to me that whatever might happen to him, he wanted you and Hermione to have his diary. He gave the note to me a few days before his death. I can't help but think he knew what would happen to him, because like Cornelius has said, Russelpunk waited for Seymour to go after him and didn't do anything to stop him from taking his life.

“He had always been interested on both of you from the very beginning, as he was always been asking me about you. You will find out why in a short while. The diary contains very useful techniques on how to fight the Dark Creatures after he spent years researching about the Dark Arts. I've read through it and I can attest to you that you will find it very useful. Even I am surprised of the many things I haven't learned yet. I hope you will be kind enough to share his legacy to the school.”

Harry opened the thick book and saw many detailed notes about fighting the dark arts, their characteristics and weaknesses, and more. Harry didn't understand why Russelpunk never brought his knowledge up in his disastrous classes. They were very interesting subjects written in his diary and it could have been excellent for lessons.

“I don't get it - why would he specifically want me to inherit this book, sir?”

“Page 503, paragraph one,” Dumbledore replied simply.

He opened the book to the specified page. The passage read:

I am fully convinced that these two students in my fifth year class are the gifted and chosen ones who will have the power to defeat the Dark Creature, a creature more terrible than the one that plagues the land the second time, as it was foreseen by our Fathers. They have shown and proven to me their qualities as heirs to the Twin Pendants of Omerta. As the Bringer of the Twin Pendants, declare that my mission is done and their destiny will soon be fulfilled.

A scribbled note in Russelpunk's handwriting at the left margin read:

*To Harry and Hermione, you are the heirs mentioned here, as I've judged. Search your inner self to learn how to use the Twin Pendants and please do use its powers wisely.

By the time you receive this I've already left and I will never come back again. I cannot avoid my fate. It has been written and it will have come to pass. My lifelong work is done with my discovery of you and it heralds the end for me. I am sorry I didn't introduce my true self to both of you fully. May the aura of Omerta be with you - always.

Harry didn't know what he and Hermione did to make Russelpunk conclude they were the ones who he had been looking for, for whatever it is they were expected to do. The message looked like it was incomplete. And what or who was Omerta?

Russelpunk never mentioned how the so-called pendants can be used and what they looked like. He didn't even expound on their so-called destiny. Additionally, it felt weird for Harry to picture Russelpunk as someone who was secretly in on a secret mission, a mission apparently so noble as it was written in this diary that it didn't fit the person he always portrayed out of his shell. Harry could not even help but think this was a sick joke from Russelpunk.

“Professor, is this some kind of a joke?” he said.

“To tell you the truth, Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking uncertain, “I hope it isn't. I'm not aware of such prophecy - this is something very new to me and interests me the most. But perhaps this so-called destiny of yours is known only to a very secret society that we are meant to discover it only now. Some prophecies do fulfill themselves in their own way and maybe this is how it was meant to be. For the meantime, please allow me to help search for the answers for you and maybe we could find something out. I do have my sources to consult, and they may shed some light about Omerta. Omerta…I don't know, but I've got a feeling I stumbled on this name before.”

“Okay, thank you, sir,” Harry said. “We'll do our share…”

“My mind is buzzing…” Ron commented, putting a hand over his aching head.

“Did you take everything from the box?” Dumbledore asked Harry. “There are two smaller ones in it. I suggest you open it.”

Harry took out two small boxes the size of a medal case. He could not open the first one no matter how much he tried, and he proceeded to the other. It opened easily with flash of light, and Harry saw a thin gold necklace with an elaborate pendant in half. Harry suspected that the other half of the pendant was inside the other box, and maybe it could be opened by somebody else. Perhaps, Hermione?

“Who do you think the Dark Creature is, Professor?” said Harry. “Voldemort?”

“If you read between the lines, it says a `creature more terrible than the one that plagues the land the second time'. The way I see it, Voldemort may be the lesser one. This is his second coming, and he plagues the wizard world with terror. There must be another one even more terrible than Lord Voldemort, but to tell you the truth, I find it unfathomable.”

Harry found that hard to believe, too. What or who could be more terrible than Lord Voldemort?

“There's still one thing I think Professor Russelpunk wanted you to have.” Dumbledore told Harry. He handed Harry a moving picture of Russelpunk with his arms around Harry and Hermione. On it, a phrase was written: “Shine radiantly, my special heroes.”

“It is now my belief, Harry,” Dumbledore said after a moment of silence, “that Professor Russelpunk was destined to meet you for some very special reason and he wasn't the person we all thought we knew at the surface. Because of this, I am convinced all of that you might find in his diary owes to be taken seriously. This may be the start of something magnificent and you need to prepare yourselves for your destiny, whatever it is. I will help you.”

Harry nodded, and he felt extremely guilty for treating Russelpunk like a traitor before he died.

-o0o-

Next: Epilogue.

A/N: If you noticed, this chapter has something in common with Order of the Pheonix. I really liked that part in the book in the Department of Mysteries.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will post the final chap very soon, just before the 30th of December. Thanks!

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23. Epilogue

Chapter 22:

Epilogue

He-Who-Must-Be-Named Returns!

Dark Fortress Confirmed!

Cornelius Fudge Resigns!

The entire Wizard World yesterday afternoon witnessed the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when his mythical Fortress, officially called the Xanthius, revealed itself for the first time for all to see.

Thousands of people looked on in trepidation when the Xanthius emerged out of the ground followed by strong quake at noon yesterday. Thousands of Wizards and Witches went into panic, causing injuries and the disruption of commerce for the rest of the day.

“It's just horrible!” cried Rupert Quibble, President of Quibble and Sons, Inc. in Diagon Alley. “I always believed the Minister it was the figment of the imagination of the conspirators like he said, but look! It's really up there on top of the horizon. I can see it with mine eyes! Everywhere we go we will always see it the same way - from London to Dublin, it just looks the same. It just doesn't get smaller even how much you get away from it, like it's watching you all the time! The fortress is so spooky with all its black clouds and lightning. I think the term `spooky' is a gross understatement. I just don't know what's going to happen to us, but I'm thinking of fleeing to Australia or maybe Canada…”

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's voice was heard around the wizard world at the same time Xanthius revealed itself, as it was confirmed by the Ministry of Magic. The wizard world is now plunged into a state of fear as no official advisories from the Ministry of Magic have yet been issued regarding this terrible event.

Ministry spokesmen have confirmed that the Ministry itself is in a state of chaos brought about by the resignation of Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The situation in the London bureau is sketchy. In the meantime, one official from the Ministry told the Daily Prophet this regarding Cornelius Fudge sudden resignation:

“It can be recalled that the former Minister had recently imposed sweeping measures to prevent `rumors' of You-Know-Who's return to spread, but with his return now revealed and that it cannot be further denied, Mr. Fudge decided that he had failed the wizard world in preparing for such eventuality and saw himself not fit to further serve as Minister of Magic because of it, thus he tendered his resignation. The Winzegamot will convene in an emergency meeting tonight to elect the new Minister of Magic.” (From the Editor: The new Minister of Magic has been elected late last night by the Winzegamot in the person of Amelia Susan Bones)…

In a related development, stock prices plunged on late trading when investors unloaded their shares immediately on fears of economic collapse brought about by the imminent chaos that would follow with You-Know-Who's return (story in page 5).

“There ye have it,” Hagrid said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Sirius in his hut the next day in the late afternoon. “Finally they've all found out about You-Know-What but unfortunately it doesn't look good out there. Pretty ugly in some parts…just like the old days but much more terrible.” He shook his head and threw his copy of the Evening Prophet in to the dining table in front of him.

Harry and Hermione were both cuddled on Hagrid's oversized seat while Ron sipped on some hot soup near the fireplace. Even though they were all vindicated with Voldemort's revelation to the wizard world, they weren't happy this was happening at all, either. But they knew it was best when everybody knew about the truth. It was more dangerous if it was the opposite.

“What else have you heard, Hagrid, from out there?” Harry asked.

“The same o'l story - chaos and fear everywhere!” Hagrid groaned. “But it's calmed a li'l for now - I think most of the wizard world now seems to like the choice of Bones as the new Minister. Ain't she the mother of a student here?”

“Yeah, Susan Bones - she's our classmate from Hufflepuff,” Hermione replied.

“Ar, with almost the same name. I hope she's up to the job…”

“She's okay, I hear,” Sirius said, walking over to the boiling cauldron to have a second helping of Hagrid's hot soup. “Dumbledore approves of her appointment, actually. He knows she's a very open person, and very strong in leadership.”

“I'm glad they chose a woman to lead us this time…” Hermione commented.

“Having someone with good leadership sounds encouraging, too,” Harry said, stroking Hermione's hair. “But I think it would take more than a new Minister of Magic to deal with Voldemort. I reckon it would take no less than total unity for all wizards to stand up and fight against Voldemort and maybe we might have a chance to defeat him this time.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Sirius agreed. “Many, though, are still in a state of denial about this, even if the proof is staring right down on their faces. I guess this is just temporary, anyway, and they'll all snap out of it and do something about it for a change. The problem with wizards nowadays is they just rely on the Ministry of Magic to take care of them. It's woefully undermanned and they won't be able to protect everyone at the same time.”

Everybody murmured in agreement.

“I wonder how Willard and Francs are doing with the anti-serum now,” said Hermione. “I can't wait for them to finish, but I don't want them to make something half cooked either…”

“It's finished, I hear,” Sirius answered. “They're just making sure the anti-serum is a hundred percent safe for people to use before they start injecting it. Wraskon's especially concerned about you, Hermione, because he knows you're Harry's best friend. He just wants to be certain your skin won't turn green with it.”

Hermione giggled.

“They already have a name for the anti-serum, too,” Sirius added.

“Oh?” Harry said. “What do they call it?”

“The Hallenrodd Potion. You know where they got that, I'm sure.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “Nice choice. That would immortalize Hal in some way - at least his death won't be forgotten.”

“I think the best bit is that they're using Henry Seymour and several of his Death Eaters as guinea pigs,” Sirius told them. “Dumbledore said Bones didn't mind that at all because she knows its for the good of the wizard world and she hates Death Eaters. Seymour had been injected with the exact version of Voldemort's serum and the Hallenrodd Potion. What's even better is that Snape is on the experiment…”

“Snape's been injected with the serum, too?” Ron said hopefully.

“No, but I wish he was,” Sirius laughed. “Anyway he can't hide his bitterness with being ordered around by Wraskon and Girbeaux to say the same words over and over all day - Domini, Vox-Domini…He can't complain - Dumbledore expects him to fully cooperate with Wraskon whether he despises it or not.”

“Demoted to a lab assistant, isn't he?” Harry grinned with satisfaction and everybody laughed.

“Oh, Harry,” Sirius said, “I'm very sorry for not responding to your letters even for once…”

“Oh!” Harry said. He completely forgot about that in the middle of what happened during the last few days.

“I still have them with me, but you know, it's almost impossible writing back to you being stuck as a four-legged dog for days here in Hogwarts under Dumbledore's request.”

“I-I understand, Sirius. It's okay, really,” Harry said.

“Which reminds, I have to turn into a dog now - someone's coming…”

Harry looked out the window and saw Neville Longbottom dragging his feet on the deep snow. The door knocked and Hagrid opened it. “Hullo, Neville!”

“Hiya, Hagrid,” he replied.

“What brings you here?”

“I'm looking for Harry and Ron. With Fudge quitting, the clubs are back and there's a new one about Defence Against the Dark Arts forming in the dungeons. I wanna ask them if they're interested - first meeting's in fifteen minutes…”

“They're here,” Hagrid told him, and he led Neville inside the hut.

“Hey, Harry, wanna come?” Neville asked him.

“Uh,” Harry started, and Hermione pressed her nose on his cheek, reminding him of something. “I think I'll pass…”

“How about you, Ron?”

“Well…okay - I think it won't hurt to see what it is and I'll decide if it's good then.”

“Cool! Let's go, then,” Neville said happily.

Ron thanked Hagrid with his unusually tasty soup, bid goodbye to everyone, and went out of the hut with Neville.

“See ya, Ron,” Hermione said after him. He looked back at her and winked.

Just before Hagrid closed the door, an owl flew in and delivered Harry a letter.

“Hey, who's that from?” Hermione said, looking at the envelope.

Harry cut the string off the owl's legs and the bird flew out immediately. It was from Stephanie. Harry glanced at Hermione to see how she took it. She just smiled at him and he opened the envelope.

Dear Harry,

I can't put into words how thankful I am to you for helping save my Uncle from You-Know-What. I had a very happy surprise last night when I got a letter from him. He wrote about what happened and I just couldn't stop crying while reading it. Dad was simply overjoyed he couldn't stop dancing all night! Our prayers have been answered, and I know that without you I would never see my beloved Uncle again.

At the same time I feel real bad about what you've gone through in You-Know-What. I hope you and Hermione are all okay now back in Hogwarts. Please extend my love to her - we have only been together for a short time but it's like I know her already. She's very nice and I hope we could all be together again soon.

I'm back at Westwall and I have made up with my lost lessons. The people here are scared, though, but we're striving to keep things as normal as we can. We can see You-Know-What from here like it's just a few miles away from wherever we are even though it's said to be in Scotland. I promise I'll keep you posted of how we are and what we'll be doing here to prepare against You-Know-Who.

Again, I want to thank you deep in my heart for taking back my Uncle. It's joy beyond what I can explain, so thank you, thank you, thank you!

Always,

Stephanie (and Dad)

P.S. Please remember I owe you a lot!

Hermione sighed. “I'm glad she's out of her misery now,” she said. “She was always preoccupied worrying about Willard back in the Burrow.”

“Just about the good news we have during a time like this,” Harry remarked, though he felt real happy for Stephanie. “We need all of it as much as we could get.”

They heard a loud thud at the back door of the hut. Hermione jumped a bit and Sirius growled at the door.

“That's Garth,” Hagrid said. “I think he's hungry again…” He looked at Harry who was visibly frowning. Hagrid knew Harry most likely disapproved of keeping him as a pet after what he went through with the dog back in Xanthius.

“I wish you'd give him a chance, Harry,” Hagrid said slowly. “He could come in handy someday - Dumbledore agrees so, as a matter of fact…”

Harry sighed. “Sorry about that, Hagrid. But I'll try. For now, he still reminds me of some real unpleasant memories.”

Hagrid just smiled at Harry and he went over to the kitchen to prepare Garth his fifth meal of the day.

“I think it's time for us to go back to the castle, Hagrid,” Harry said, standing up with Hermione. “See you around - and thanks for the soup!”

“Sure, Harry,” Hagrid grinned. “Anytime you want!”

Hermione waved goodbye to Hagrid and to Sirius, too, who waved back at her with a paw. When she and Harry walked a few feet from Hagrid's hut they both felt warm air wafting behind their necks. When the looked back, they yelped a little when they saw Garth's huge head staring down at them. At first they felt threatened about being this close to the animal, which they have seen as wild and dangerous only yesterday, but then the dog breathed heavily, stuck its mouth out, and wagged its tail at them to look surprisingly harmless.

Harry at first was inclined to shun the dog, but then he gave in when Garth gave him a miserable look and a sad sound.

Hermione put her arm around Harry's shoulder. “I think he's asking you to forgive him,” she said, smiling. “Let bygones be bygones, like. He really does look he wants to be friends with you.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, looked up at the sad looking dog, and finally gave in. “Yeah, he does, doesn't he?” Harry smiled back at Garth and patted his big wet nose. “He probably never knew what he was doing back there - I think you'll be okay from now on, Garth.”

Happy, Garth licked Harry lovingly with his huge tongue from Harry's belly up to his head, drenching him. Harry closed his eyes for a long time feeling awfully disgusted.

Hermione said “Yech!” playfully at Harry and she laughed at him. Soon, Harry laughed along with her; Garth barked once and ran back to Hagrid who was brandishing a big slice of dragon meat.

“Wasn't that cute of him to do that?” Hermione laughed, patting Harry with some snow to help wash off Garth's saliva.

“You'd probably think differently when you're in my shoes,” Harry chuckled. He took out his wand and pointed down to snow. Several snowballs formed in midair and he grinned at a wary looking Hermione. The snowballs flew towards Hermione but she ducked and Harry got hit instead.

Hermione pointed her finger at Harry and she laughed hysterically at him. Refusing to leave without getting even on her, Harry grabbed Hermione and wrestled her to the ground. She kept on laughing and threw bits of snow on Harry's face, but gradually her laughter subsided when Harry simply looked down at her and smiled. Their smiles faded shortly; Harry slowly moved his lips closer to hers, and they kissed without letting go for a long time.

When they broke up their kiss to inhale some air, Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry. “What a great time to fall in love with you,” she told him, with a hint of sarcasm, though humorously.

Harry laughed a bit. “Yeah…but remember this - not even Voldemort will take us apart - I promise you that…”

“Me, too,” Hermione smiled. “I'm now starting to think how I could live without you Harry…”

“I won't let that happen,” Harry replied, beaming down on her, “because I would never leave you.” He reached inside his pocket and took out a small medal case.

“What's that?” Hermione said curiously. “Hey, that looks like you medal case from Dumbledore…”

“I couldn't open it - not even Ron or anybody else. I thought I'd try it out with other people before I'd give it you…just to make sure if Russelpunk was right about us…”

Hermione took it slowly from him and, as Harry had thought all along, she opened it successfully without any effort. The snow was bright but the light that shone from the box when Hermione opened it was even more brilliant. Inside it was half of the pendant he had from Russelpunk.

Harry breathed. If it was only Hermione who could open it, then Russelpunk may have been right about what he thought of them. Harry then knew he was serious about their so-called “destiny” for which he and Hermione still had to find out about.

“Is this the pendant of Omerta from Russelpunk's diary?” Hermione asked, staring at the medallion at the box and looking surprised. “Did you…”

“Yes, I opened the other box,” Harry told her, “and I have the other half.”

Hermione exhaled deeply and she looked worried. “Oh, Harry, what does this mean?”

“That means we're both going to be in deep shit again someday,” Harry said bluntly.

“I'm a little scared…I've got a little problem with the unknown…”

“C'mere,” Harry sighed. He pulled Hermoine closer to her and embraced her. “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't because it's something that we don't know about yet - yeah I think we do have the same fear - you're not alone. We got to find out about everything with this Omerta thing - I think it's important we need to prepare ourselves, don't you think? But Dumbledore says it's something magnificent though he doesn't have a clue about it…”

“Then I hope he's right,” Hermione said softly.

“I believe as long as we're together we'll be all right,” Harry assured her. “I'll protect as long as I live.”

“Thanks, Harry, and you can count on me, too. You're right - we'll take on one threat at a time like we did before. I hope Ron wouldn't get out of place with this in some way - we still need him as much as he still needs us.”

“He won't - he said he'll always be one for us.” Harry took out Hermione's medallion, put it around her neck, and hid it under her robes. “I'm wearing mine, too. Whatever this pendant does for us, I hope it'll be for the good of all.”

They heard footsteps on the snow coming nearer to them. Harry thought it was Ron but he was surprised when a hand forcibly grabbed the back of his robes and he was thrown away to the snow.

“What did you do to my father, Potter?!?” Draco shouted. Crabbe and Goyle rounded up on Harry next. They grabbed him up from the snow together and held him by the arms in front of Draco. He then approached a struggling Harry and pointed his wand closely at him.

“Draco!” Hermione shrieked. “Let him go this instant!”

“Shut the bloody hell up, you despicable little Mudblood!” he spat.

“What do you want with me, Draco?” Harry growled at him, doing his best to break free from Crabbe and Goyle but they were too strong for him. Crabbe grabbed Harry's hair and yanked his head upward; Harry didn't take his eyes off from Draco though he felt some pain on his neck as it was pulled backward forcibly.

“You're gonna pay for what you did to father, Potter,” Draco growled, looking deranged with the tip of his wand on Harry's chin.

“He didn't do anything with your father, Malfoy! Let him go!” Hermione shouted at him (Hermione couldn't use magic on him because she was still recovering from her lost mana). She bravely strode towards Harry and tried many times to pry him loose from Crabbe and Goyle, but she was only pushed away by them. Goyle laughed.

“Where's Lucius now, Malfoy?” Harry said. “In Azkaban? He wasn't so tough at all, was he, Hermione? Screamed like a scared kid in a tough neighborhood, he was,” Harry taunted.

“You're wrong about my father, Potter! He's the bravest wizard of all, and so am I because I'm his son - I'm not afraid of you, scarhead!”

“Then what's with your goons, then? If you're not afraid of me, tell them to let me go and I'll gladly duel you.” Crabbe punched Harry at the stomach and he wheezed out of breath down to the snow.

“That does it, Malfoy!” Hermione yelled and then charged at him. “You're gonna pay for that.” She, however, stopped on her tracks when Malfoy pointed his wand at her.

Malfoy laughed. “What're you going to do with me, Mudblood, slap me?” he drawled. “Move back or I'll curse you.”

Hermione gulped and stepped back a few steps but said, “If you curse one of us, you'll be in trouble in Dumbledore, Malfoy!”

“I don't care for that anymore, Mudblood! I'm here to take back on Harry for my father and I'll make sure Potter will be disfigured for the rest of his life!”

“Malfoy…no…” Hermione warned slowly; Draco pointed his wand at Harry's nose to curse him as he threatened.

But suddenly Draco's contorted face had turned into one with pure terror. He whipped around and fled from Harry without doing a single curse on him. Crabbe and Goyle dropped Harry to the ground next and ran behind the hysterical Draco. Hermione ran toward Harry and helped him up and they both stared at their fleeing backs, bewildered with their sudden change of heart.

“Now what was that all about?” Harry said, brushing off his robes from snow. He and Hermione heard something running from behind them and they looked back anxiously. They quickly held into each other when they saw Garth running toward them and looking very angry!

Garth jumped over Harry and Hermione, landed on the snow, and went into hot pursuit with Draco. Harry and Hermione both hung their jaws with amusedly seeing Draco stumble on to the snow and screaming at the top of his lungs staring helplessly at the huge dog that was bearing down on him. At last, Garth had caught up with Draco - he took a big bite on Draco's robes, shook and waggled him up high into the air, and ran off with him toward the castle. Crabbe and Goyle howled in grief running after behind them.

Harry and Hermione laughed uncontrollably.

“T-That was nice of Garth to do that,” Harry panted. “I got to give him a big juicy bone someday…”

“Serves Draco right!” Hermione snorted, feeling victorious even without raising a finger on Draco. “We'll watch out for him the next time - I don't know if was serious with his threat to maim you for life, but we'll be ready for him.”

“Amen to that. C'mon, let's go back to the castle,” Harry smiled, choosing to shrug off Draco's latest attack on him though he kept on enjoying watching Draco flail his arms and legs wildly under Garth's breath at a distance. Hermione laughed again, wishing Draco had now peed on his pants, or better yet, soiled on it. She and Harry both hoped Garth wouldn't let go of him until the next morning. They put their arms around each other and resumed walking together back to the castle.

“I've really had it with all this excitement - I just want to cuddle up with you at the Common Room for the next hundred years,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head appreciatively at Hermione for his sweet remark. He also knew that he, too, needed a much deserved long and peaceful break. However, he thought that was wishful thinking under the new terror of Voldemort though he didn't want him to dictate to them with what to do with their lives. Life must go on, of course, he thought. The only question was when will he strike again? He shrugged that thought off. He will just have to be ready for him.

Halfway to the castle, Harry and Hermione saw the form of Xanthius at a break of the tall trees from the forest. The setting sun was now beginning to hide behind the fortress that had an unusually clear sky on that part of the horizon. They both stopped walking and they took a long look at the fortress, which seemed to look quiet and serene from their point of view.

“What do you suppose will happen next, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Will Voldemort ever bring us back to that terrible place?”

“I don't know, Hermione, I honestly don't know,” Harry sighed. “But we'll be ready for Voldemort whatever he'll do next, won't we?” he said while looking at the direction of the fortress. “The next time we set foot on Xanthius, it will be the time when we're going to destroy it!”

“Yeah…” she sighed, hugging Harry very tightly. “Yeah, we will. Raze it to the ground, we will.”

After one more look at Xanthius, Harry gazed at Hermione and smiled at her. Both of them believed not even Lord Voldemort could take apart the new love they have felt for each other. Their eyes met once more, and they gave each other a very long and meaningful kiss as the sinking sun cast upon the both of them the long shadow of the Dark Fortress.

THE END

Shadow of the Dark Fortress (Part 2): The Xanthius

By Triggy

December 24, 2004

Author's Notes: Well, it's finally finished at last! I hope you really have enjoyed reading this story! Criticism is still welcome, and if you have some comments, or maybe reminders on some unresolved plot points of this story that I may have missed, please let me know. Thanks! A funny thing happened just after I typed “The End”. I felt sick, ran to the toilet, and threw up! Well, I know it's not because of the story, of course, (oh, well, maybe some of the unknown readers do feel the same way about it, haha) but because of the chicken or scallops I ate for lunch that were probably bad!

I wish to thank all the people who spent time to read this story in Portkey.Org.! (The hits counter is really handy).

Special thanks goes for these great people who reviewed while the story was in progress:

Muirnin

Hermione's REAL Twin

Becca Angelic

SEK19005

Ridxwan

PottersPrincess

Arun

LadyBlazey

Musique

Gal-Txter

Thieving Magpie

Andy B

RetroRose

Scott

More thanks to those who reviewed multiple times! (You are the best!)

I would also like to thank my friend Belinda whose HP fanfic story was the inspiration for this second part of the series!

Also very big thanks goes to the mods in Portkey.org for their support. I really appreciate the attention they had given to this story (including the first part) and for letting me in as a member/author in Portkey.org: NAPPA, Gal-Txter, and the Thieving Magpie. A big special thanks for the Thieving Magpie for recommending this story and the first part in the recs forum!

I shall start Part 3 when I think I would have substantially gathered some good ideas for it though the general plot has already been laid out. For the meantime, Please allow me to take a break from writing - I'll be reading and reviewing the many HP fics found here at Portkey.org for now. I hope you will still be here then. Thank you very much!

Until next time,

Sincerely,

Triggy (My real name is Rei).

Oh, I just noticed it's Christmas Eve! A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all! Let there be peace on Earth and for all mankind!

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