(A/N: Here's chapter four. I realize a lot of you were probably confused at to what happened at the end of chapter three, and that was, of course, intentional. That will all be cleared up in this chapter. Anyway, I will comment more on this chapter at the end. Hope you enjoy!)
"Potter," A deathly quiet voice hissed in his ear, "You are awake now, are you not? In a matter of speaking…"
Harry recognized the voice instantly. It was Gates. He could feel his hot breath on his cheek, and he could hear the subtle hints of promised malice enunciated with every word.
He suddenly realized that he could not see, move, or talk; but he could feel the soft touch of cloth against his body and guessed that he was lying in a bed. Wherever he was, he felt a slight breeze through an open window tugging at his sheets, and he heard the faint movements of people from somewhere far away. Gates seemed to be the only one in his presence at the moment.
Oh Merlin, Harry thought, panicking, Has the bastard captured me?
"No, Potter, I haven't kidnapped you," Gates whispered, as if in response to his thoughts. Harry felt an eerie chill flow through him. "Sirius seemed to insist that you attend Hogwarts. No matter, it doesn't really affect my plan."
"You see, Potter, I have a certain ability to make the best out of any…undesirable situations that I may be placed in." Harry could not see him, but he was sure that Gates was grinning, "I am beginning to see you as a sort of gift."
"I know all of your little secrets, Potter. I know that the Dark Lord is in your mind. He might even be in there now, I do not care. What matters is that you are damned to succumb, and I am fated to overcome. I daresay I will do you a favor, ruining you. But I can't do that Potter, no matter how much I desire to. However," Gates's voice lowered even more. "I can ruin your body and mind so that you are little more than a vegetable. I understand you know the Longbottoms? You may even share your room with them."
"But not before I get the information I need, Potter. I said that you are a gift and I mean it. The Dark Lord is in your mind, and if I can extract the details I need, I can find the Dark Lord myself," Gates began to speak much quicker, as though his excitement was building ,and he could not contain it. "Then when I know, I can paralyze you so the Dark Lord cannot possess you further or possibly control you completely. That could be very bad for me, you see. Better I tie up all the loose, err, ends."
"And when I find the Dark Lord, I will tear his body. I will duel him and I will become victorious. Not through blind luck, but through power and will. And then," Gates apparently came to the part where he most savored, "Then I will be full circle. The family name of Gates will be finally spoken with utter reverence. My honor will be restored, and my glory reestablished; and the short part of history where the name of Potter was associated with the Dark Lord's downfall will be forever banished."
"Then Sirius's favor is returned, my family name will be revered, and the dark wizard scum will be gutted. I confess that I am not sure how to go about with your eventual destruction, but I know that one day you will make a mistake, Potter. And then, then I will move forward with the plan. Until then, I can wait and have patience. Many years I have prepared for such a chance. Now Sirius has unwittingly given it to me. I have realized it only recently. Now do you see what I meant when I told you I can make the best out of any situation?"
Harry felt Gates step back slightly ,and he could no longer feel Gates's hot breath on his face. He was horrified; he had known Gates was a bastard but this? This was inconceivable.
"You wonder why I told you this? More for my benefit, than yours, I admit. It makes everything rather more exciting though, doesn't it? No matter, you will slip back into an unconscious state momentarily, and when you revive you will not remember a word of our conversation." Harry heard Gates add a more sinister tone to his voice. "To think that you have just heard every stage of my plan and will not recall any of it. The irony is so…appropriate."
The dirty…sadistic…bastard!
The floorboards creaked as Gates stepped away, and Harry felt the need to scream aloud but no sound came out. Impossible plans whirled throughout his head, and Harry desperately tried to do one of them but failed. Slowly, but irresistibly, Harry drifted into a state of unconsciousness, and remembered no more.
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When Harry awoke again, he heard two people in loud voices arguing hotly with one another. Harry opened his eyes to see that he was lying in a soft bed and covered with light sheets. The room was bathed in sunlight. He turned his head slightly to see that it was nearly midday and the skies were clear and blue. His entire body ached; especially his back. More than that, he was exhausted. His arms were limp and weak, and his head throbbed painfully. There was something pressed against his foot, but Harry did not move to see it. He closed his eyes again and listened to the exchange that was taking place in front of his bed.
Harry recognized the first voice belonging to Mr. Weasley. "You should be in Azkaban! Using the possession spell on a healthy mind, sick and irresponsible."
"I know what I did and I regret none of it. The boy needed to be humbled." It was Gates. He sounded cool and collected; he was almost confident.
"Humbled? Are you mad? You nearly drove him to insanity. You should be nowhere near Harry, or anyone else, for that matter."
"You have no say in where I should be, Arthur. If you wish for me to listen to you; I suggest you negotiate with your wand."
"Disgusting. Listen to yourself. Dumbledore won't have you roaming-"
"Dumbledore already agreed," Gates spat, clearly losing his temper, "Not that he has much say in a magical bond. I will be staying with the Potter boy this school year, and there is no one that will be able to change that."
"Right," Mr. Weasley countered, "You won't be the only one keeping an eye on him. The Order will ensure that no unfortunate accidents happen…We know how you interpret honor and glory, Alex, and should you even-"
"I've heard enough of this. I will not be ordered around by a blood traitor - especially one who is as watered down as you."
Harry, even though he was lying in a bed, could feel Mr. Weasley's ears turning dark red.
"Can't you two take it somewhere else?" A third person snapped. It was Hermione sitting at the foot of his bed, sitting comfortably next to his foot. "Harry needs to rest. You don't need to be in the same room as him all the time." She added, staring daggers at Gates.
Mr. Weasley glared furiously at Gates, then stomped heavily out of the room, fuming. Gates ,glancing indifferently in Harry's direction, followed Mr. Weasley out, muttering something about needing a break from the monotony. He slammed the door behind him.
"That's better. I can't imagine how you have slept through all this. They've been at it all day."
"Yeah, neither can I." Harry said, feeling some strength returning. He fumbled clumsily around for his glasses on the nightstand next to him.
"Harry!" Hermione squealed, knocking him back down onto the bed with a devastating hug. "You've been out for so long. Everyone has been really worried that the possession spell Gates used had permanently paralyzed you!" She started sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, hugging her back, "Calm down. I'm alive and well and Ron-" He paused, "Where's Ron?"
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, releasing him. Her face was stained with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. "He's felt so terrible since he lost control in The Leaky Cauldron. He can't even look at you. He thinks that this is all his fault! I don't think he even hears me-"
"It's okay, just breathe," Harry said, growing alarmed. "Tell me about Gates. What happened back there after I collapsed."
Hermione took a deep breath of air. "We heard you scream and we broke through the door. We found you and Gates lying there, both unconscious. When Mr. Weasley came a moment later, he was horrified but not shocked. Its like he knew that this would happen. And then Gates woke up," Her voice became more icy and flat that Harry had thought possible. "He levitated you and Ron into the ministry's car, and told Mr. Weasley to drive to the Burrow. Of course, we all wanted to get you two to St. Mungo's straightaway, but Gates argued. There wasn't much we could do. Gates is far more powerful than any of us; and from the way he threatened us, we were not going to test his resolve." Hermione stopped to wipe her eyes with her sleeve.
"So we went to the Burrow, and Gates placed you both in your beds and told us to not go near either of you. Ron recovered an hour later." Hermione shuddered. "You should have seen him. It was horrible. Gates cursed and spat and threatened Ron's life; blaming him for everything from his possession to what happened to you. It was worse than one of Professor Snape's rages."
"Why did he attack me in the first place?" Harry asked quietly.
Hermione frowned. "When Ron became possessed with one of his fits, Gates hesitated in reacting. I don't think he knew what was going on, so he waited. The magical bond set in, and Gates was dosed with pain. It would not allow him to stand by idly while you were threatened a few meters away from him. I imagine the pain lasted only for a brief second, but in Gates's mind it would feel like an eternity of torment and agony. Once the magical bond released him, Gates confronted Ron and used the Curse of Possession on his mind."
"However, the pain the magical bond gave him was still fresh in his thoughts, and he needed some sort of revenge. To do that, he needed to punish the only person who could be responsible. You, though indirectly." Hermione sniffed her nose.
"I bet the fact that he hates me more than Snape didn't hurt much either." Harry muttered.
Evidently, she did not hear Harry's remark and continued, speaking in a lower voice, "Since you did not tell him of Ron's sickness, he reasoned, you were the guilty one. Had he known of Ron's fits, he could've reacted faster and avoided the pain. This, in his mind, required vengeance. He took you into a private room and performed the Curse of Possession, the same spell he used on Ron, on your perfectly normal mind. As a result, the magical bond responded and attacked his mind, but he achieved the result he wanted. Now you suffered like he did, and his vengeance was fulfilled. It did not matter that he felt the pain along with you; his goal was to make you feel the agony. Does that make any sense? How can anyone be so…so…evil?"
Harry could not find an answer to the rhetorical question. "So what's going to be done? Will the Ministry get involved?"
Hermione gave a snort of laughter, though Harry knew it was mirthless. "No one knows about it. Gates kept everything quiet. Mr. Weasley wanted to get you to the hospital, of course, but he didn't have much say in the matter. Gates has a way of speaking through his wand. Even if the Ministry did know about what Gates did, what can they do? Arrest him? He fought off a team of Aurors before, and he can do it again. The Ministry has enough on its plate without having a renegade Hit Wizard add to it. It's sad, but true. Gates has full control over you, and Mr. Weasley has no place to argue, even if he knows its wrong."
Harry did not know what to say, so he remained silent. Hermione's words disturbed him, and a sudden fear of Gates's presence welled up inside him. "He's a monster, you know," Hermione said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Harry shifted uneasily in the bed. "Yeah, I know he is."
"Even monsters have secrets, though," Hermione continued, oblivious to Harry's response. Harry watched her carefully. "He used a possession spell on a normal mind. He's sick, he must be. How can such cruel wizards exist?"
Harry did not answer.
"That alone does not make him a monster, though. it's the way he looks at you, Harry." She said, looking terribly frightened, "It's disturbing. I caught him eyeing you when he thought no one was watching. He is stalking you like a predator and its prey. Not just hate, but actual hunger. Something terrible happened to Gates in his past, Harry; something terrible. People aren't born evil like that. What happened to Gates?
Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Why would Sirius assign him to protect me? Sirius had to know there was some Dark Wizard in him. Why?"
Hermione bit her lower lip. "Harry," She said tentatively, "He did not plan for a lot of things to happen. Maybe he didn't put enough thought into it; people can never plan their deaths. Or maybe Sirius trusted him once, or he wouldn't have sent him. Sirius didn't know what Gates would become."
"He's a glory fiend," Harry muttered. Hermione looked startled. "I'm sorry I've dragged you all into this. Gates is only here because of me, so now everyone has to suffer because I am here: Me, you, Ron , everyone."
"Don't you dare be sorry!" Hermione said forcefully, crossing her arms, "We aren't going to let Gates split us apart."
"You're right," Harry agreed without conviction, just wanting to avoid an argument. Discussing Gates began to tire him. He did not want to start a debate regarding Gates's reasons for being here.
"I'm sure," Hermione said skeptically, not believing Harry's response, "I better find Ron. I want to drag him in here so he can talk to you; I think he believed everything that Gates told him." She stood up from the bed, sniffed a little ,and moved towards the door.
"I must look like a mess," Hermione said, sounding offhand.
"Never," Harry replied, grinning. Hermione smiled slightly and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Harry to his thoughts.
He leaned back and placed his head on the pillow, thinking about Ron, and hating Gates. The fits were not Ron's fault, and neither was it Ron's fault that Gates was brutally vindictive. If anyone was at fault, it was Harry as he had brought up the subject of Percy in the first place. He should have known how Ron would react; and that the surge of emotion would bring on one of his fits. Gates's actions were without reason or logic.
Harry reflected on the events of that day, concentrating on what had passed. The day started so innocently and fun; the usual bantering exchanges between the three of them, but nothing that foreshadowed Ron's sudden madness. He recalled the short visit to the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and the discovery of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor; and the skirmish between Percy and Ron that followed.
'You're forgetting something…' said a sly voice inside of him.
What's that?
'I think you know; you just haven't admitted it to yourself yet. You like her, and you know it. You were just flirting with her before she left. Go ahead, deny it.'
Harry chose not to respond.
As the tiny voice within Harry's mind began to speak again, the door creaked open and Hermione stepped in followed by a very nervous Ron. Hermione threw Harry a glance that said, "Speak to him now. He's a wreck."
And Ron did look like a wreck. His face was pale and blanched. His freckles seemed more distinct from the rest of his face, as they alone, in sharp contract with his skin, remained brown. His frizzled red hair, usually under a loose state of control, stood up at wild angles near the back and was sweaty and matted at the front. An apprehensive shudder visibly ran through him, lingering a while longer in his wobbly legs that now shook anxiously. His long, shabby robes trailed carelessly on the floor and looked as though they have not been cleaned for several days; a long, crooked crease ran along his right side as though it had been ironed into that position. His hands, normally shoved deep in his pockets or swaying at his sides, were fidgeting restlessly. Ron, noticing this, quickly brought one up to rub the side of his neck from an imagined irritation. Altogether, Harry had never seen Ron so distressed.
"Ron, sit down," Harry said calmly, patting an area of bed next to him and reluctantly sitting up. His back ached painfully when he moved, but he ignored it. Ron, his eyes locked onto the wall behind Harry, snapped into reality and he nodded.
Ron nervously sat down and, now staring directly into Harry's eyes, croaked, "I'm so sorry. I blacked out and I can't remember what I did, but I almost did a killing curse…" His voice trailed off.
"Ron, no," Harry said, shaking his head. Tears singed his eyes at a sudden memory. "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't at the Department of Mysteries, if I had followed some sense…"
Ron stiffened. "I went with you willingly, Harry, we all did. Hermione told me she talked you out of that way of thinking ,so don't start it now," He relaxed. "I could've killed you." He added quietly.
"But you didn't," Harry said seriously. He stole a glance in Hermione's direction, who was now leaning idly against the wall and watching the two of them carefully. "You had some control, Ron. Not much control, but enough to prevent yourself from performing any powerful spells."
"Yeah, but what if I can't next time?" Ron said, his voice cracking. He took another breath and continued, "And there will be a next time."
"No, you're only getting better, not worse. Remember what the Healers said?" Evidently, Ron had forgotten what the Healers said; they could see as some traces of color returned to his cheeks. Ron remained silent for a moment, then shook his head. His expression was somber. "I nearly killed you Harry. If I could almost do that to you, my best friend, I could certainly do it against anyone else that I don't know."
"Ron," Harry said slowly, his anger growing, "What exactly did Gates tell you?" What did that bastard say?
Ron's eyes left Harry and fell to the floor, where they locked onto a dull red rug in front of the nightstand. Hermione took a step forward and tilted her head, apparently interested in what Gates told Ron as well. "He told me that I had- had pointed my wand at you, Harry, and that I almost used the killing curse. He said I was possessed by some terrible Death Eater and was being used to target you."
Harry's eyes widened. "He said that, did he?" He said softly, "That is the biggest load of trash I have ever heard. You never pointed your wand at me. You threatened Gates with it. If anything, you ignored me as soon as you saw Gates."
Ron seemed awed; his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were blank. Hermione looked disgusted. "That man…" She began, speaking to herself, "No wonder they call him 'The Debauched Savior'."
"What is he doing, anyway?" Ron asked, strength returning to his voice and some more color coming back to his face.
"Don't you see?" Hermione said, her eyes gazing ominously out the window, "He's trying to split us. Break us apart. He has some motive in this ,and I will find out what that monster is up to."
The sturdy resolve in her voice brought Harry a sense of optimism, and Ron appeared to have felt it too. "No, nothing will change this year. I don't care if I have Gates breathing down my back everywhere I go: He won't touch me and, Merlin willing, he will get his before this year is out."
"No Harry," Hermione said quickly, her voice laced with fear, "He's one of the strongest wizards in the world Harry. You don't slaughter innumerable dark wizards just by luck. He may even rival Dumbledore, but you can't fight him. You could die and then everything would be wrong." She added sadly.
Harry felt his heart stop. Does she know about the prophecy? No, she said 'wrong' not 'lost'…What the hell does 'wrong' mean?
Ron clenched his fist. "That git lied to me; and I was stupid enough to believe him. To think-"
Harry froze as a sudden revelation swept through him. "By Merlin," Harry stammered, praying he was wrong, "You don't think he can use Legilimency and Occlumency…"
Hermione stiffened. "He might. He's had the experience…" She paused, "It would explain how Ron was influenced so easily. Harry I think you're right." She ended in a shocked voice.
"There is nothing to worry about," Harry said hastily, "I think I've gotten much better over the summer at Occlumency so I think I can stop him from prying in my mind. He can't be better than Voldemort; and his dreams have turned into short flickers. And you said you've studied the theory, Hermione; and you are the brightest witch at Hogwarts. I'm sure that would be enough to stop Gates from taking excursions into your mind…"
Hermione blushed from his compliment. "But Ron hasn't. Gates has shown he can manipulate Ron's mind now. Quite effectively, too."
"If you are through saying how weak my mind is," Ron said gruffly. "I want to know how we are going to stop Gates from venturing into my mind."
Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose Hermione and I could show you the basics, at least. We don't know how skilled he is at it, so it might not take much."
Ron sighed. "There's always something extra we have to do each school year. Mind you, we're going to have enough schoolwork as it is without it being compounded by some maniac." Harry's stomach began to rumble hungrily, and his eyes scanned the room quickly for food. Failing to find nourishment, he turned back to Hermione and Ron. "Is there anything around here to eat?"
Hermione almost jumped, and, looking quite embarrassed at her oversight. She said hastily "Oh, of course, you haven't eaten since yesterday! I will go downstairs and find something." She turned to go, but Harry motioned her to wait.
"I can do this," Harry said, shuffling himself to the edge of the bed. Honestly, he was not sure whether he could stand up and walk downstairs. He did not even know why he was even attempting it since he woke up only a short time ago. "I can go."
Hermione frowned and bit her lower lip. "I don't really think you should, Harry." She said disapprovingly.
Ron, however, was already standing up to give him a helping hand. "Don't worry, mate, I got you."
Harry flung his legs over the side of the bed and waited, adjusting to the new position he was in. Slowly, he extended his legs to the ground, and, when he felt them touch the floor, he grabbed Ron's arm and pulled himself up to his feet. At first he wobbled uncertainly, and then balanced and steadied himself. He felt the blood suddenly change its flow in his head, and for a moment he felt dizzy. Not letting go of Ron's forearm, he waited for the feeling to pass and then nodded reassuringly to Ron, who let go and took a step back. Harry nearly fell over and Ron reached out to grab him, but Harry caught himself in time and waved Ron's hand away, wanting to accomplish this himself. Focusing heavily on his legs, Harry stepped forward and smiled, pleased at his success.
"See? Piece of cake."
Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded strangely like "Boys" before coming over to Harry's side. "If you are so capable, go ahead downstairs and we'll follow."
Harry grinned broadly and began slowly walking his way towards the door. Though her words suggested indifference, Harry knew that Hermione was watching him carefully from behind to ensure that he did not stumble without anyone around to support him. He quickened his pace, wanting to give the impression that he had recovered from his injury. Finally reaching the door, Harry wrapped his hand around the doorknob and pulled forcefully, swinging the door open much faster than he had intended.
For a brief instant, Harry saw Gates across the hall, leaning wearily against the wall with his hands cupped in front of him; staring fixedly on the object before him. His eyes seemed morose, possibly desperate, and his thin mouth twitched sadly at the corners. His face, normally pulled back into a condescending sneer, reflected a deep, personal introspection. Stiff and worn, his ebony robes hung down to his ankles as though frozen; arrogantly defying the gentle breeze that blew through the corridor by their absolute stillness.
Gates, startled by Harry's sudden presence, hastily tucked the object beneath his black overcoat, a flash of silver reached Harry's eyes before the item disappeared completely within Gates's robes. He glared venomously at Harry, as though he had interrupted an immensely private moment. Gates, tightening the sash around his overcoat, his vindictive expression silently promised Harry that he would be punished later. Without a word, he strode away and left a perplexed Harry in his wake.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked anxiously from behind him. He had been standing there, holding onto the heavy wooden door, for about thirty seconds. "Are you hurting?"
"Oh, er, nothing. I'm fine," Harry said. As far as he knew, nothing had happened. What did he care if Gates had some trinket he carried around?
When they reached the kitchen, the strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them; wafting gently from the assortment of pots, pans, and mugs that Mrs. Weasley was surrounded with. Harry eased himself into a seat, and began helping himself to the wide selection of late breakfast foods; including toast, eggs, meats, and juices. Ron took large portions of sausage and fried potatoes ,though he had already eaten breakfast only an hour ago claiming he did not want to make Harry uncomfortable. Hermione stirred cream and sugar into her coffee and gazed out the back patio window serenely.
"Harry dear, you're awake!" Mrs. Weasley squealed from across the kitchen. She had just noticed Harry's presence, and instantly dropped what she was doing to come over and welcome him. "You've been out since yesterday, and I swore to Gates that if you weren't awake by this evening, I would take you to St. Mungo's no matter what he said. Terrible man." She added in a lower voice, spying Gates's tall figure in the archway to the kitchen. Harry had never known Mrs. Weasley to describe anyone as 'terrible' before, with the lone exception of Voldemort.
"Thanks Mrs. Weasley; I'm a little foggy but other than that I'm alright." Harry replied, trying to sound cheerful. He was not aware that Gates had been following him since he left the bedroom.
Mrs. Weasley checked him over critically, and then, apparently satisfied, nodded and said, "I'm glad you're well, dear." She gave him a tight hug and pecked him on the cheek. On closer inspection, Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley's eyes shining with tears.
"Hermione you received the Daily Prophet today," Harry noted that Mrs. Weasley's voice was edged with sadness. "I hope you don't mind, but I glanced through it quickly before I cleaned the dishes." Pulling a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet, she placed it on the table next to Hermione's coffee and disappeared behind a wavering tower of bowls. Harry could have sworn that he heard some broken, muffled sobs coming from behind the dishes.
Hermione sipped her coffee and, evidently oblivious to Mrs. Weasley's state, began to read the front page. She, unlike Harry, had not seen the tears in Mrs. Weasley's eyes. Gradually, Hermione's expression turned from interest into suppressed anger. Harry gave her a quizzical look and she responded by shaking her head in a very disgruntled way and offering him the newspaper. Curious, he pushed his plate of food away and accepted the paper from her hands.
Boy-Who-Lived Threatened in Diagon Alley
By Rita Skeeter
Harry Potter, now fifteen, has always been a boy who chose to keep suspicious company, and engage in rule-breaking activities. Allegations have been made that young Harry takes part in these unusual behaviors because of a seemingly insatiable thirst for attention. Now, however, these behaviors have taken a dangerous turn, and have become something more than risky friendships with unstable half-giants and reckless excursions into an area at the school Hogwarts aptly named 'The Forbidden Forest'.
While Harry and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, enjoyed a few harmless butter beers at the popular tavern The Leaky Cauldron, something that witnesses described as "Bizarre beyond words" and "The stuff of dark magic" occurred. Ronald Weasley, who had no previous associations with the Dark Arts, attempted to perform the Killing Curse on his friend Harry Potter.
An anonymous informer described the event: "Young Mr. Weasley suddenly stood up from his chair and started shouting, causing everybody to turn to him. He seemed very upset about some sort of relationship between Mr. Potter and Miss. Granger, as he mentioned their 'going out' several times. Raising his wand and pointing it at Mr. Potter, he tried to use the killing curse but failed. I, a Hit Wizard who happened to have stopped at the tavern for refreshment, intervened and disabled Mr. Weasley before he could use another curse. Regrettably, the power of the spell knocked both Mr. Potter and young Mr. Weasley out. Mr. Weasley senior arrived a moment after that, and, after collecting the three of them, drove off in a ministry car and disappeared."
A St. Mungo's healer stated today that neither Mr. Weasley nor Mr. Potter checked into the hospital either yesterday or today. When asked about young Mr. Weasley's medical history, the healer replied, "Ronald Weasley has only been a patient at our hospital once before because of a brain related injury."
This leaves us, the concerned Wizarding world, with several questions: Why would Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley NOT check into St. Mungo's after the confrontation? Do they have something to hide? When did Ronald Weasley, son of the Head of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office in the Ministry of Magic, become associated with the Dark Arts? Is this another one of the now-familiar stunts Harry Potter and his friends perform to gain fame?
These questions cannot be answered by this reporter alone. They leave us, the confused citizens of the wizarding world, wondering what will happen next and doubting Harry Potter's integrity more with every passing moment.
By the time he finished reading the article, his hands shook madly and Ron was staring at him nervously. He set the paper down, motioned Ron to take it, and irritably continued to eat the remnants of his toast. When Ron finished, he wore an expression that matched Harry's and Hermione's.
"That bitch!" Ron hissed, trying to get his point across while preventing Mrs. Weasley from hearing his comment.
"Yeah, I wonder who the anonymous informer is," Harry said sarcastically, shooting a glance behind him at Gates. "Looks like he got a few facts wrong." He hesitated. "Ron, isn't this going to get you into a lot of trouble with the ministry?"
Ron snorted. "They don't base investigations on what Rita Skeeter writes. Besides, some ministry people already know."
"I thought only family members knew?"
"Family members and the Unspeakables," Ron continued, "And they told Fudge. Dad explained to him what happened so I guess everything is being kept quiet."
"And they'll just ignore it and let you into Hogwarts?" Hermione asked dubiously.
Ron paused. "Yeah, I guess so." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"But its disgusting what Rita wrote," Harry remarked, "Parts of this article are composed of outright lies."
"He's just trying to break us apart," said Hermione loudly, obviously intending Gates to hear. "But its not going to work. We've suffered worse embarrassment than this. Bringing back that Skeeter woman won't work."
"You've got that right," Ron agreed, vehemently nodding his head, "I still can't believe people still read and believe this garbage after all the lies it told last year. Don't people ever learn?"
"No," Hermione said, "People still want someone to blame; to insult. Its even more convenient when that person has been in the spotlight for the past sixteen years."
Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed contently, not allowing the Skeeter article to bother him. "It doesn't matter, really," He said reassuringly, "This has been happening since our fourth year. Sure I am worried about what everyone at school will think, but they will get over it eventually. They did last year, right?"
Ron and Hermione stayed silent for awhile; Ron munching on a pile of waffles and Hermione slowly sipping her coffee. Ron reached across the table for a second helping of pancakes when a thought struck him. "Hermione, didn't you take care of Rita awhile ago? Isn't she an illegal animagus?"
Frowning slightly, Hermione set down her coffee cup on a coaster and straightened. Her posture reminded of a person about to give a eulogy. "She's registered now," said Hermione sadly, "We can't touch her since she's legitimate."
Ron was stunned into dropping his fork. "What?" He sputtered, "Why would she register herself? Hasn't that ruined her edge?"
Hermione summoned up an air of infinite patience before answering. "How would it ruin her edge? How many people do you know that go around examining beetles for identifying markings to see if its an animagus? She can buzz around as much as she wants, and no one will notice."
Ron's face paled. "So, you mean-" He stumbled over words. "She can-"
Harry asked the question for him. "So now she can fly around Hogwarts in her animagus form and spy on people so she can write her warped stories?" Harry suddenly recalled Rita's threat in The Three Broomsticks from last year, when she interviewed him about Voldemort for the Quibbler. "She promised you that she would get back at you."
"There's nothing to worry about Harry," said Hermione brightly, trying to improve their mood. "Let her write her stories, they won't hurt any of us."
Harry's reasoning returned, and he realized that nothing Rita writes can possibly be any worse than Voldemort or Gates. In fact, her articles might even provide a comical reprieve from the brooding seriousness of the prophecy and Sirius's last requests.
"You're right," Harry said cheerfully, meaning it. "Ron, pass the waffles please." Looking amazed that Harry was thinking of food, Ron hesitated and then passed the large plate of waffles and placed it in front of Harry's plate. Taking a generous helping, Harry poured syrup heavily over it and ate with relish.
"You've changed a lot over the summer, mate," said Ron.
"Yeah, I suppose I have," Harry replied, grinning broadly. Hermione beamed at him.
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The remaining weeks left until their return to Hogwarts passed quickly, and Harry found himself wishing more than once that his weeks with the Dursley's had flown by as easily as these. Rita Skeeter seemed to disappear from the headlines and Harry guessed (A bit hopefully) that her story was a one-time idea and her vendetta ended with it. When he suggested this to Hermione, she shrugged her shoulders in a disbelieving way and said that they would just have to see.
Sometime during holiday, he received his once-shattered mirror back from Torre's Magical Repair Workroom, with an attached note identifying it as a Black family artifact handed down through generations. Knowing Sirius, Harry was not surprised. He tested it quickly to see if the mirrors shared corresponding views, and, after seeing that they were indeed paired, thought for a long time about who he should give the second mirror to. Finding that no one came to mind, he wrapped both mirrors in a soft cloth and tucked them securely in his suitcase.
Harry caught Gates several times staring fixedly at a silver object in his cupped hands, usually huddling it carefully away from view. Though Harry could not see exactly what the item was, he didn't dare move closer. Gates was malevolent enough without having Harry nosing into his business to compound it. After one or two good decent glances at the object, the most he knew about it was that it was silver, small, and metallic. It was almost like a piece of jewelry. Not wanting to provoke a confrontation, Harry never questioned Gates on what it was or why he gazed at it so longingly.
Then, the morning of their return to Hogwarts, Harry awoke to the sounds of heavy footfalls thundering up and down the steps. Leaping out of bed, he threw on some clothes and began to pack all the loose items that were strewn across his room. Relieved to see Hedwig in the cage rather than outside hunting, (He seemed to have lost track of her activities the past few days) he grabbed the cage and dashed out of the room with his other luggage.
"I wondered when you were going to wake up!" Ron said breathlessly, standing at the top of the stairway, "I was just coming up to get you, come on!" He urged and sprinted lightly back down the steps.
Harry awkwardly ran after him, the cage swinging wildly around ,and Hedwig screeching from inside. His enormous suitcase bounced down every step and, after he reached the bottom, slammed recklessly into the wall as Harry made too sharp of a turn. Gates, casually stepping down the stairs, had an amused expression playing across his face as he trailed Harry through the house, sometimes kicking and stomping on some of the luggage Harry dropped in his haste.
He skidded into the kitchen and roughly dropped the suitcase and Hedwig's cage onto the ground next to Hermione's pile of baggage, oblivious to the owl's frantic banging of wings against the bars. The two heaps of personal belongings and suitcases stood in stark contrast with one another: Hermione's pile tidy and neat, while Harry's was disordered and sloppy.
Glancing around the kitchen quickly for his friends, he grabbed a bit of toast and set off to the living room. As he passed through the archway, he collided roughly with Hermione, who rounded the corner simultaneously.
After exchanging apologies and blushing slightly, Hermione quickly said, "You better get your things. Ron already has his luggage packed in the ministry car, and we'll be leaving as soon as the rest of our belongings are put away."
Since when does Ron finish first? Harry asked himself.
The two of them returned to the kitchen in a fast pace, and, with Harry helping Hermione drag an exceptionally heavy trunk that he was sure contained at least ten thick textbooks, carried them outside and packed them into the idling ministry car. Mr. Weasley helped Harry shove the massive trunk into the back of the car, and the whole vehicle tilted to the back as the huge weight was added.
"I think that's everything," Harry said as he wiped sweat off of his brow. The day was exceptionally hot and dry, causing most of the sensible creatures around the Burrow to hide in the shade or under the gnarled branches of thick bushes, escaping from the sun's tormenting rays.
Harry turned towards the house and squinted to see the lean, towering figure that he had become used to over the past month. Gates waltzed casually down the steep stone path from the burrow and opened the rickety wooden gate that led from the front lawn to the road, looking very pleased with himself about something.
He seemed to have changed his clothing into a more formal set. Instead of the usual obsidian black overcoat, he wore a deep scarlet cloak and robes of the same color underneath. Both of them wrapped tightly around his waist and trailed down to just above the ground. Most noticeable, however, was the extravagant necklace he wore around his neck, which sparkled with countless tiny diamonds. Stretching almost halfway down his chest, its jewels would glitter tauntingly in the sunlight when Gates turned his neck or torso. Harry found himself mesmerized by the blatant display of incredible wealth. For a man who had never shown any trace vanity previously, Gates spared little expense in acquiring this prime example of a craftsman's high art.
Boots squeaking as he went, Gates strode forward with a deliberate air of reserved arrogance. His blood red cloak billowing out behind him as it was picked up by the sudden breeze. Despite the unbearable heat, Gates appeared unperturbed and cast a cool, resigned glance at all of them that unmistakably meant "I determine the schedule." Again, the diamond necklace swung carelessly about his chest; the hundreds of attached prisms flashing beams of light into their eyes, daring them to look away.
Mr. Weasley was similarly entranced as well, when he finally broke out of his daze he stammered, "Well, let's go then."
For a fleeting moment, Harry thought that he was finally seeing the silver object that Gates had been gazing at privately for the past month. Whenever Gates viewed the mysterious item, though, his expression was somber and withdrawn, contrasting greatly the pride and haughtiness that Gates displayed now with the necklace. Also, whenever Harry managed to steal a rare glance of the object, he never saw any glint of a precious stone set upon the silver. Dismissing the idea from his head, he stepped into the ministry car and joined Hermione and Ron in the back seat.
"Did you see that necklace?" Ron whispered excitedly, "You can buy yourself everything in Diagon Alley with that!"
"Breath Ron," said Harry, sporting a grin that did not betray the surge of inexplicable envy he felt. He had a small fortune at Gringotts, what did he care if Gates was wealthy beyond anything imaginable? "That's a bit of an exaggeration, I think. Besides, he probably just transfigured them all."
"Oh, I don't think so Harry," Hermione said, biting her lower lip, "That's impossible. At least I think it is. I've never heard of anyone accomplishing that type of transfiguration before; it would be far too complex. There's something funny about those diamonds, something disturbing. Did anyone else feel it?"
Harry and Ron nodded. Though she did not specifically state it, they both knew she was referring to the twinge of jealously that they felt when they first saw the necklace.
Hermione saw their gesture of assent and frowned. "I hoped it was just me. There are some strange enchantments on that jewelry that I've never heard or read about. I think I will ask Professor McGonagall when we get back. I can't be sure of anything right now since I never really delved into stone-related transfiguration."
Harry suddenly looked around, realizing someone was missing. "Hey, where's Ginny?"
"Oh, well, she is-" Harry noticed Ron was having an extraordinarily hard time saying where she was, "She- Well- She went with Dean. He's taking her to King's Cross." He said through gritted teeth. Harry knew better than to respond.
In the front, Mr. Weasley engaged in a heated argument with the dashboard. "We need to be there soon, and I swear to you that if you take the next bypass we will make it with a minute to spare. Even if you turn left right now, it will be better than trying to worm your way through the traffic jam."
The car honked in response, apparently fed up with Mr. Weasley's suggestions. Mr. Weasley threw up his hands and leaned back into his seat, fuming. "These new ministry cars always think they have the right idea."
Ten minutes later, after many narrow squeezes through alleyways, the car halted in front of the train station and allowed its passengers to shuffle out. Harry leapt out of the car and hastily unloaded the back, distressingly aware of their tardiness. If they didn't hurry, platform nine and three quarters will seal and they will be trapped outside.
Throwing Mr. Weasley a brief wave and a goodbye, the three of them stumbled through crowds of muggles that busily wandered through the station. Though they made valiant attempts to avoid knocking people over, there were several accidents along the way that involved a couple of very harassed looking muggles and Hedwig shrieking piercingly in her cage. Muttering some obligatory apologies, they eased their way through and finally stood outside of platform nine and three quarters. Harry saw Gates breaking a way through the crowd, easily parting the shorter muggles who looked quite taken aback at his height.
They nodded to each other, and, trying to avoid being conspicuous, leaned easily against the wall and fell through to the platform. With the crowd considerably thinner, they dashed across the platform and lightly ran up the stairs to the train car, breathing heavily and sweating. Gates, looking as though he had done nothing more exerting than take a stroll in the park, walked patiently up the stairs and waited nearby.
"Ha!" Ron said proudly, "We made it! The train is only a minute away from leaving, but we made it!"
Suddenly, Hermione's head perked up and her expression became alarmed.
"Ron!" She exclaimed, "We have to get to the prefect meeting!" Grabbing a handful of Ron's robes and dragging him through the car, she called back to Harry saying, "We'll be back before you know it!" Ron, evidently not knowing what was happening, struggled for a moment and gave up, following her obediently to the front car. Harry heard him shout "See you soon mate!" before disappearing into another compartment.
Harry squeezed his way through the compartments of students, trying to find an empty one where he could sit down and relax away from the curious stares of the students who remembered Rita Skeeter's article from last month. Additionally, he somehow felt uncomfortable around so many of his old friends and acquaintances, many of whom he had not seen all summer. It felt awkward to be socializing with them after all their months apart; especially after a brutal summer with the Dursley's. Easing his way through a particularly dense aisle of students and luggage, Harry opened one of the sturdy metal doors connecting the cars and arrived at a relatively student-less compartment. Though Harry did not see him, he knew Gates was following closely
He threw Hedwig's cage and his trunk onto the shelves that overhung the seats, and sat down on the cushioned seat positioned directly under his luggage. Behind him, Gates stood ominously in a shadowy corner of the compartment, peering out from the darkness from under a broken light fixture. Harry turned to face him, trying half-heartedly to take his mind off of his near-isolation. A flash of silver flickered from Gates's cupped hands, and Gates, sensing Harry's gaze, tucked the object into the folds of his crimson robes. Now, the only feature that hinted that a man was enveloped in the shadows was the diamond necklace, sparkling darkly despite the complete absence of light. Unnerved, Harry brought his head forward and idly stared out the window, watching absently the rolls of hills and lakes pass by.
The sky seemed to match his mood. In the morning and early afternoon, the sun had been scorching the earth, frying plants and animals alike like eggs. Now, however, clouds blocked out the sun and a comforting coolness swept over the forest, distracting everyone from the lingering heat that radiated from the ground. The sun, still trapped behind the cumulus, cursed the clouds into a deep shade of red, covering everything in a dull red haze. Though dusk was still hours away, Harry believed that the sun would set any minute and flee into the horizon, abandoning him to the night.
Just then, the compartment door clanged open and two of his close friends walked in. Luna, gazing at him with her trademark protuberant eyes, was trailed by Neville, who carried Trevor carefully with both hands. Neville, either by accident or intentionally, was not carrying his prized mimbulus mimbletonia cactus plant. Harry was immensely grateful for this, as he had experienced a very embarrassing situation because of it last year on the Hogwarts' Express.
"Hello Harry James Potter," Luna said vaguely, looking past him into the shadows where Gates stood.
"Er, hi Luna," said Harry, feeling a little awkward by the use of his full name.
Neville, running past her, sat down next to Harry and placed Trevor on his lap. "Harry I want to show you something," He said excitedly, fumbling with his pockets and pulling out a very bendy oak wand. "Gran bought me a new one over the summer. It has a unicorn tail in it!"
"That's great Neville!" Harry answered, truly glad for Neville. As he had never known money to be a problem for the Longbottom's, he had never understood why Neville had used his father's wand for the past five years. "You'll probably get a lot better results with it."
"You think?" Neville said, awed, examining his wand with new anticipation, "I hope I do. Maybe it will help my marks."
"Yeah," Harry said, watching Luna take a seat in front of him. She pulled a copy of The Quibbler from her suitcase and began to read, turning the paper upside down occasionally to read the ruin puzzles.
"So how is Ronald?"
Harry hesitated. It was not his place to discuss Ron's real condition without his permission; especially with Luna Lovegood. "He's fine. Same as he was when you met him in Diagon Alley," He said evasively. Luna peered at him suspiciously from behind the newspaper, and Harry found himself suddenly fascinated with the train's windows.
"I see," She said, her dreamy voice faltering somewhat.
"So what are you reading?" Harry asked, not-so-subtly trying to change the subject.
Luna turned back to The Quibbler. "Just about how the goblins are planning to stage a full scale revolt against Minister Fudge for crimes against their race. He hunts them for sport, you know."
Harry stifled a laugh. He was irresistibly reminded of last year when The Quibbler claimed Fudge had been baking goblins in pies.
"Father says that Fudge will be facing an inquiry soon and he will be removed from his position," She continued, too concentrated on what she was reading to notice Harry's disbelieving grin, "I expect he will be convicted." Her necklace of butter beer caps jingled as the train jolted on the track.
Neville, engrossed in the conversation, snapped out of his reverie and said, "So are we going to have Dumbledore's Army meetings again, Harry?" Luna lowered her paper in sudden interest.
"I haven't really thought about it," Harry said truthfully. The last thing on his mind this summer was the renegade club he started last year in defiance of Dolores Umbridge. "I supposed we can restart it if everyone is still interested. I mean, we might not even need it if we have a competent teacher."
"It was still loads of fun," Neville replied, his blond hair flying as he nodded his head vigorously. "And I learned more in there than any of our classes."
"Potter," A scathing voice said from behind them, "Mind explaining to me exactly what 'Dumbledore's Army' is?"
Gates had not spoken to Harry for a week now, and he was just beginning to enjoy the trend. Pity it had to be broken, he thought. "It's a club we started that teaches people how to better defend themselves against the dark arts. Since we never really had a good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, with the exception of Lupin, we started it for some extra practice."
Gates paused for a moment, processing this information. "So you feel that your vast array of experience entitles you to lecture others on defensive spells?" Gates said sarcastically, speaking in a low and virulent voice, "You're head has bloated to the extent where you feel capable of teaching others? I don't care how pathetic your professors undoubtedly are; they still are one step above you. Blind luck isn't synonymous with talent, Potter."
"He performed the Patronus charm in his third year!" Neville blurted out.
"The Patronus charm?" Gates snorted, his voice sounding close to laughter though Harry could not see his expression, "I should hope so. Tell me, Potter, how many spells do you know that would actually come useful in a duel?"
After thinking for a minute, Harry could come up with only a few. "Well, there's Stupefy, Silencio, Perfect-"
"Child's play!" argued Gates, his voice icy and laced with a tone of superiority. "Any dark wizard can deflect those spells with a wave of his hand. What do you know about the Edward Skinner curses?"
"They're a series of exceptionally complicated curses, hexes, and jinxes that Aurors use to subdue dark wizards," Luna said, her voice floating over her magazine though her eyes never left the page in front of her, "You need a license to use them; thought you probably don't have one. Do you?"
Harry could not see Gates's expression, but Harry knew that he was enraged. "What is your answer, Potter?" he snarled.
"Now that Luna told me, I know something about them. But I believe I will be learning a lot more about them since Sirius requested you to teach me such spells."
"Unfortunately you're correct," Gates sneered, then paused for a moment, "I will permit you to have this little diversion if you wish, if only for my personal amusement." His diamond necklace rustled imperceptibly on his neck as he moved, shimmering slightly from the light.
Luna turned a page of The Quibbler. "Amazing how the illustrious Alexander Gates can wallow in his own glory but will never acknowledge a question."
Gates said nothing.
Harry decided the exchange was concluded and turned back to Neville, who was looking very pale and troubled. The necklace was affecting him, too. "Do you still have the galleon?"
"Oh, uh," He stammered, his blanks eyes coming back to reality, "Yeah I would never forget that!"
Harry grinned, remembering that Neville's abysmal memory only allowed him to recall a few memories with clarity. Knowing Neville somehow remembered his galleon made him resolve to reinstate the D.A. as soon as possible.
An hour passed, and the train rattled over the tracks at the same quick, rambling pace that it had always moved at. The snack witch had passed by and he had purchased a small mountain of chocolate frogs and other assorted candies the plump witch offered. Stuffing himself full with the sweets, he fell back into his sleep and closed his eyes. Harry nearly drifted off to sleep when the door opened and Hermione and Ron stepped in.
"Oh, hey!" Harry greeted them, motioning them to sit down.
Sitting on either side of Luna, Ron and Hermione fell back into their seats and Ron instantly grabbed a leftover chocolate frog that Harry bought from the plump witch with the cart earlier. He bit off a large piece of its leg, and then returned his attention to Harry.
"So, how's it been going?"
"I've decided to restart the D.A." Harry announced, pleased with their reactions. Ron grinned broadly and Hermione beamed.
"That's great!" said Hermione, a touch of pink reaching her cheeks at the fact her idea was going to be used for a second consecutive year, "I supposed we can start on the more advanced spells, right?"
"Yeah, I've been reading up on dark creatures and dueling, and I figure we can learn about some of that this year. Though we still should start with the basics since everyone likely forgot stuff over the summer."
"Can't argue with that," Ron agreed, finishing the chocolate frog and licking his fingers, "I know I've forgotten some spells."
"That's your own fault that you didn't study; not Harry's," Hermione said crossly.
Ron recoiled. "I never said it was!"
"Did someone just say something about dueling?" drawled a familiar voice from behind Harry. Draco confidently walked up the aisle, flanked by his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. "You don't seriously believe you know anything about dueling, much less expect to pass it on to a mudblood and a Weasley. Still can't figure out which is worse, after all this time." He added as an afterthought.
Harry restrained himself from reaching for his wand as Ron glared furiously at Draco, not moving because of a hand that Luna had placed on his wrist. Harry heard her mutter "Don't do it" under her breath.
"And I supposed you think you can duel?" Harry retorted, "Who have you dueled this past summer? Some house elf who can't fight back?"
Color flowed into Draco's cheeks but he controlled it. "Mudblood girlfriend holding you back, Potter? I thought you two broke up during the fourth year."
"You are a lot of things, Malfoy, but I never thought you were one for gossip and rubbish written by Rita Skeeter," said Harry coolly, "But I find words suit you well."
Malfoy smirked, but Harry could see the anger rising to his eyes, "Perhaps you really do think you can beat me, Potter. I'd like to see you try."
"Yeah and get expelled from Hogwarts because of your relatives? I'll pass, thanks."
"No, I'm talking about doing it within the boundaries of the rules," Draco said, his voice hinting danger. Harry involuntarily stiffened. "I'm starting a little dueling club, student run, of course, and sponsored by a professor."
"Professor Snape?" Hermione laughed, "He'd be the only one who would allow your ridiculous ideas for clubs to pass."
"If I could respond to that without feeling tainted by filth, mudblood, I would," Draco said hotly. The tension in the compartment increase dramatically. "So you think you have what it takes to join, Potter? Or are you all talk?"
Harry felt himself tempted by the challenge. This would be his chance to humiliate Draco in front of the entire school and not get in trouble. It was not something he could pass up lightly.
Seeing Hermione shake her head warningly, Harry made up his mind. It would not be worth it, he decided, as Draco would cheat at the duel the first chance he got. And, with the club being overseen by Snape, Malfoy would probably get away with it.
"I don't need to duel you to know I'm better; I've done it myself several times already and won each time." Hermione nodded at Harry approvingly.
"I thought you might say that Potter," Draco drawled, "Crabbe told me that you lost whatever balls you had when your feeble godfather passed through the veil. I might say it was a pity he died, but then I'd be lying."
Harry was immediately on his feet with his wand drawn halfway. Eyeing Malfoy threateningly, he said "You will regret saying that, Malfoy. You want a duel? You have one. I can't wait." He sat back down, avoiding Hermione's horrified expression.
"I knew that if anything got you to duel, it would be that," Malfoy laughed, "You remember what I told you last year, about me avenging my father? I haven't forgotten. See you later, Potter." He motioned to Crabbe and Goyle to follow, but they were stopped by a icy voice calling out from the dark end of the compartment.
"Draco Malfoy? Son of Lucius Malfoy?" It was Gates.
"Yes," Malfoy said uncertainly, fear passing across his face. He had not seen the tall figure in the shadows when he had come in. "I am a Malfoy, and you will tell me who you are."
He identifies himself by his last name.
Gates stepped out of the darkness, his diamond necklace glittering madly and his eyes eager with excitement. Malfoy stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over a seat and falling. "You know me then? Perhaps I don't have to answer your question, Malfoy."
"You-" Draco stammered, his eyes locked on the diamond necklace, "You're the madman Alexander Gates! What are you doing here?"
"Oh yes, well spotted. My business here is not yours, so I will ignore the latter part of the question. I have had the honor of meeting several of your relatives. Old friends, I daresay." Gates used a voice that he normally reserved for Harry. It was a deathly, sadistic voice, one that, once heard, made your mind scream "GET AWAY".
"What do you know of my family?" Draco asked brusquely, gaining some of his composure back. Though he spoke with a calm voice, Harry saw beads of perspiration falls down his pale face.
"Oh, I know many things about them. I trimmed your family tree quite a bit in the old days," Gates said, grinning and experiencing pleasure at seeing Draco's panicked face. He surveyed Malfoy carefully. "I think it could use another pruning, as of late."
Malfoy lost whatever blood was in his face and made for the door. Before leaving, he called back, "You can't be in this school. My father-" He hesitated. Obviously, he just remembered that his father was a fugitive and had no influence over anything.
"Your father will be dead if I ever find him, boy." Gates fed off of fear like this; he savored its taste, relished its scent. The terror was the spice that made his life pleasant.
Draco practically ran out of the room, Goyle and Crabbe lumbering behind him. Gates, looking extremely pleased, almost gleeful, returned to the dark end of the compartment where the broken light fixture swung noiselessly. The only sound was Neville's hoarse cough from a drink of water.
Hermione stared at Harry, appearing very disappointed, and bit her lower lip. "You shouldn't have let yourself be drawn in. You know he will cheat."
"I had to. He can't talk about Sirius like that," Harry shook his head, "Its not all bad. I will probably learn loads from it." Hermione frowned doubtfully.
"Yeah, let it go," Ron said, picking up another frog. He noticed Luna's hand resting on his, and, slightly embarrassed, withdrew it. "Harry will take Malfoy anytime. Besides, did you see what Gates did to Malfoy? I think he wet his pants."
Harry grinned. "That was better than the time Moody turn him into a ferret."
"Mind you," Ron replied, "I would rather have Gates not here at all and have Malfoy get away." "Agreed," said Hermione, "Harry please don't get involved in anymore fights with Malfoy," Her eyes begged him to agree, "Or anyone else. We need to be careful." "Fine, I won't start anything," Harry answered, deliberately leaving a gap in the promise. He would not begin a fight, but he sure would finish it. "But I'm sick of the mudblood nonsense. It's revolting." "I know, but don't get involved," She pleaded, "Either of you."
They felt the train begin to slow down, and Hermione quickly checked her watch. "We're almost there. Get out your robes; it won't be more than ten minutes now."
Hermione and Luna left the compartment, and the boy quickly pulled out their luggage and dressed into their Hogwarts school robes. Feeling very uncomfortable as he had not been wearing them for several months, Harry tightened his robes around his waist and stood erect. His eyes wandering over to the window, seeing nothing and thinking deeply of what he had just gotten himself into with joining the dueling club.
After a few minutes, all the boys were ready and Luna and Hermione returned to the compartment, both wearing their school robes as well. They sat down, feeling wobbly on their feet as the train slowed down in short increments. Eventually, the Hogwart's Express screeched to a halt and Harry heard the rough voice that had greeted him to Hogwarts since his first year; with an isolated exception of his fifth year.
"Firs' 'ears! Over 'ear!" Hagrid shouted over the crowd of chatting students, who were idly stretching and yawning from the long train ride.
Not wanting to distract Hagrid from his duties, and promising himself that he would talk to Hagrid tomorrow, Harry walked straight for the carriages, seeing the thestrals snort and throw their heads back in boredom. Finding an empty carriage, the five of them crammed inside it and waited for the Thestrals to begin the march to the castle. Gates, not having a seat, stood irritably in the center of the carriage and glared at them. Vaguely, Harry heard Hagrid ordering the first years into the boats for their trip across the lake.
Hogwarts castle stood majestically on a hill, surrounded with the lush greenery of the forbidden forest and the sparkling mystery of the placid lake. Battlements and towers sprang up out of the walls, bathing in the setting sun. Light danced across the high stone walls and turned them from a dull gray into something vibrant and colorful. In the distance, he could see the high wooden doors that led to the entrance hall. Soon, he would hear the sorting and then devour the following feast. There was a small jerk and a rumble, and the carriages began to roll forward, winding their way up the rutted path and through the front iron gate.
"Oh Merlin," Harry said softly to his friends, "Its great to be back."
(A/N: Frankly I'm not too fond of this chapter, but its a necessary transition to Hogwarts. Hopefully everyone understands now what happened at the tavern. Parts of it, such as what-the-hell-does-a-magical-bond-do, will be explained in later chapters, so stick with me on that one. And some of you may think that Gates's actions in the beginning of this chapter are a bit unbelievable, that too has an explanation; which will be revealed later on.
And I hope everyone enjoyed Gates's conversation with Draco. I had a lot of fun with that.
Since these updates are taking place at roughly weekly intervals, I figure I will give you a summary of what I have planned for each chapter.
Chapter five: I really like how this chapter is going so far. Dumbledore has one of his 'talks' with Harry; Rita writes one of her articles; the trio has their first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Whams and his assistant; and everyone's favorite professor meets Alexander Gates. Oh, and Harry finds our something quite personal about Gates.)