Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry jerked awake next morning not quite sure when exactly it had been that he'd fallen asleep. Hermione was moulded closely to him, her warm cheek pressed against his chest, chestnut hair half concealing her face, and her arm thrown peacefully round his waist. He realised he must've fallen asleep with his arms and legs wrapped tightly about her, and in waking, still felt the urge to keep her securely against him, though the steady rise and fall of her breathing seemed to calm him a bit.

After having received the threatening note last night, Harry had stood guard at the window for some time, his wary gaze travelling back and forth from the sleeping form of Hermione to the darkness and white-blanketed grounds outside. The moonlight filtering through the clouds and shining down on the snow had made the otherwise black night almost luminescent, and he'd been grateful for the advantage.

For two solid hours he had fought drowsiness and stood rigidly watching, and though he rarely needed it anymore, he had kept his wand clutched tightly in hand, his eyes keenly searching the grounds for any sign of movement. Though he knew Dumbledore had tripled the strong wards and protections round the school, the memory of Hermione being swept right from Hogwarts' grounds last year haunted his mind constantly.

In fact, it had been the sound of her crying out from another nightmare that had finally brought him back to bed. He'd decided quickly to place a protective ward on the door and window, and then had crawled back under the covers with her, gathering her to him and stroking her hair until she finally fell back into a peaceful sleep.

For hours it seemed he'd lain awake holding her, adamantly willing his protection around her and wishing for the life of him that he could protect all others Voldemort might harm as well. He was anxious to figure out who the dark lord had marked to attack, and the thought of sending warning owls first thing next morning was his last one as sleep finally dulled the sharp edges of his mind and lulled him under. Once again that night, as so many times before, Harry dreamed of he, Hermione and Ron dying at the hands of Voldemort and his followers.

The heavy scarlet drapes began charming themselves open as the sun hit them fully not more than four hours later, and Harry, fully awake and once again lost in anxious thoughts, watched a bright white beam spread over he and Hermione like another quilt. He felt Hermione begin to stir beside him and tilted his gaze down toward her, deciding at once not to alarm her with news that he had begun dreaming the same horrifying dream on a regular basis. Besides, it was bad enough what he did have to tell her.

Hermione breathed a long sigh and opened her eyes with a squint from the sunlight, as completely rested from a full night of sleep as Harry was not. She looked up with a smile at him, but immediately noticed his grim expression.

"Harry…how long've you been awake? What's wrong?"

Harry hesitated a moment and then sat up running a hand down his face and back up through his messy hair. Hermione noticed his bloodshot eyes and frowned concerned at him.

"You don't look as if you got any sleep. Did you?"

Harry sighed. "A bit. Listen, love…d'you remember the post owl that came last night?"

Hermione eyed him. "Not exactly…"

" I don't wonder; you were half asleep," Harry replied wearily. He leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve the note from the floor and handed it to her. "Here, read it."

Her eyes flew over the short note and a look of horror quickly stole onto Hermione's face. She turned her gaze back to Harry. "Oh no…oh my god, Harry…"

"The bastard's finally ready to attack and I can't do a bloody thing to stop it," said Harry in angry frustration. "Only thing I know to do is send a post to everyone we figure he might immediately target. It'll be someone close I think, someone who'll make a first impact…on me especially." He sighed and again clawed a hand through his hair. "Of course my first thought was to contact the Ministry, but it's not as if they'd take it seriously what with them determined to stay ignorant about his return."

(A/N: I started this story pre-OotP so in my story the fight at the Ministry, Sirius' death, and Fudge finding out he was wrong all this time never took place.)

"No they wouldn't." Hermione shook her head, her eyes again glued to the glowing red words as if she might somehow glean more information from them. "They'd only make more trouble for you and Professor Dumbledore. They won't believe Voldemort's back until it's proven he's done something, I'm afraid. But I think you're right; we should send warning owls."

Harry paused and turned more toward her, taking her by the arms and gazing gently at her, dreading his next words. "Look…love, I don't mean to scare you, but…but I think we should send one to your parents as well."

Stunned, Hermione shot a fearful gaze at Harry and quickly grabbed his hands. "My parents!? Harry, you don't actually think he would attack them!? He knows the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle government share information…if he was caught harming Muggles, law enforcement would contact the Ministry immediately! And remember what Bellatrix Lestrange said to you? She basically said Voldemort wouldn't risk having himself seen by the Ministry and give up the cover they're ignorantly providing! He'd be out in the open; no longer able to move in secret! There's no way he wants that!"

Harry put a gentle hand to her face and spoke in the most soothing voice he could manage. "Things change, love. If he's moving toward a final war maybe he thinks it's time everyone finally chose sides. Maybe now, it's exactly what he wants."

Panic began to pound Hermione's heart relentlessly hard against her chest. She was normally a very calm witch, able to stay cool and think logically in times of stress. But if Voldemort was trying to draw Harry out as his note would indicate, and he did decide to target Muggles, the loss of his girlfriend's parents would be a sure way of affecting Harry.

"It's not certain who he'll target yet, love." Harry said as gently and reassuring as he could. "As for him attacking Muggles, I dunno if he'd do it himself or use Death Eaters…or possibly send Dementors again. Remember what happened to me fifth year in Little Whinging? What if Umbridge was working for him like you, Ron and I think she was? And if Voldemort was behind her sending Dementors after me, in Muggle England, I don't see what would stop him doing something like it again. His goal has always been to purge the wizarding world of half-bloods, but I'm certain now he's decided to broaden his horizons. I think he's just mad enough to want run of the whole world, and that would include ridding himself of Muggles as well. We want to be sure to warn everyone we can think of, don't we? "

Harry felt a pang of regret run through his chest at the stricken look on Hermione's face. A few warm tears rolled down her cheek and he reached a hand up to thumb them gently away, pulling her to him.

"It's alright love," he whispered. "We'll just owl them straight away. It's all we can do for now."

Hermione pulled away from him for a moment and gave him a determined look. "It's not all we can do. Harry, I want you to listen to me for a moment…"

Harry frowned, slightly puzzled, but nodded for her to continue.

"We need to tell Dumbledore on this one," said Hermione firmly. "No arguments, Harry. This goes far beyond your being too old for his advice. He needs to know about this."

To Hermione's surprise, Harry agreed with her at once. "I know love, you're right. It's not just my life we're dealing with anymore. I'm going to tell him this morning after we've sent the posts and had breakfast. But I have a favour to ask of you."

Hermione gazed at him. "You know you can ask me anything."

Harry nodded. "I don't want Sirius knowing about this. He's still not safe with the Ministry and I know he won't go back to Grimmauld Place if he finds out Voldemort's about to strike. Especially if he knows I'm being sent bloody notices beforehand."

"I understand," said Hermione. "But Harry, you yourself said once the war begins there'll be no stopping him …"

"I know," said Harry grimly. "And I still believe that. But I don't want to know something I did or let him in on got him sent back to Azkaban or… or worse. I couldn't live with myself. I want him alive and safe as long as possible…Maybe that's selfish, huh?"

It was Hermione's turn to gaze gently at him and she took his hand in hers, noting the familiar worn look on his face. She knew how heavily the lives of everyone Harry knew and loved weighed on him; knew the colossal burden he carried day after day, and knew he blamed himself for the deaths that had already taken place, though he shouldn't. She also knew what an enormous heart Harry had beating inside his chest, a heart she loved more than any other in the world.

She stood from the bed and began rummaging for clothes for the walk down to the Owlery. Harry turned his back as she dressed and she did the same for him. She took his hand as they made to exit her room and turned him to her for a moment more.

"You're a wonderful man Harry, and I love you. Never forget that."

As Harry kissed her and hugged her closely to him, the thought entered his mind that she might feel a bit differently when even more began to die for the immense hatred Voldemort had for him. It was inevitable; he knew they would. It was only a matter of who, and when.

So Harry lived for today…and today, Hermione Granger loved him.

He'd long before given up hoping for the future. Within the life of the boy-who-lived only one black certainty stood out amongst all of the uncertain: Harry Potter was never promised tomorrow.

**********************************************

Aunt Petunia,

I'm sure this is a shock to you hearing from me

during school, but I've just got some bad news as of late and

thought I should warn you. Voldemort is on the move again.

I've addressed this to you Aunt Petunia as you know

what I'm on about when I mention him. He'll be looking to

strike at those he thinks I'm close to, or in your Case, one's

who provide me with any type of protection. I'm sure you

remember Professor Dumbledore chose to leave me with

you and Uncle Vernon because you're my mother's sister and

having the same blood, I'm protected with you in your house.

Harry

Ron's letter was decidedly more warm, though Harry couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed of it. He had done his duty in warning the Dursley's, but he had never felt anything but profound dislike for them. He probably never would, he supposed, but then again, he was sure the feeling was mutual.

Ron,

I've written it out for you:

Though Harry's words had calmed Hermione somewhat, she still composed the letter to her parents with a shaky hand. As she wrote, horror filled thoughts continued to assault her brain; images of her parents laid out dead in their home, her house destroyed, even neighbours and their children she'd grown up with flashed dead and mangled in her mind, their glassy, lifeless eyes staring accusatorily through her. She shuddered and tried to shove the images away as she continued.

would be better if they sent any messages via the floo network since it seemed

pretty certain Voldemort would be watching the owl posts. So he and Hermione watched their hearth as the green flames rushed each letter to its destination, their hearts hanging heavier than they had done for a long time.

Unbeknownst to Harry and Hermione, they had not been the only ones so late the Friday night before to receive mail.

On his bed in the Slytherin boy's dorms, Draco Malfoy sat rigidly staring into nothingness, the curtains of his four poster shut tight around him both to ward off the early morning sunshine and the prying eyes of any other awake dorm mates. His pale skin seemed even paler within the dimly lit hideaway he'd fashioned for himself. Purple circles had smudged themselves under his steely grey eyes as a way of reminding him he had not slept. The parchment he kept crushed in his fist had the wrinkled, slightly grubby appearance of having been read and then re-crumpled over and over again.

He should have expected it. Lucius had not given him the dark mark for no reason; he'd had plans for him all along, even for the five or so short months he had left at Hogwarts.

Draco miserably lifted a hand to the mark his father had given him as a 'gift' over Christmas and rubbed the still smarting area. Lucius had made it quite plain he and his damnable 'master' wanted Draco to act as a spy, and to use Ginny to better do it.

Voldemort would know if he didn't do what his father had instructed him to in the letter, he knew… If only he were skilled at Occlumency like Professor Snape or even Scarhead for the matter…

He didn't give a damn about Potter or any of his drooling fans, nor any more what his father and Voldemort did, or did not find out about them. The one thing he did care about concerning anything Gryffindor however, was Ginny Weasley. What he decided to divulge to Lucius, and therefore Voldemort, could and would have direct consequence on her, and that above all was the one thing that most plagued him.

For what seemed the tenth time since he'd received it, Draco again unrumpled the letter and smoothed it out before him, reading the glowing red words as morosely as if they were a eulogy for his own funeral.

To Draco himself, they might as well have been.

'Our lord'… 'his majesty'… Bullshit.

Once again Draco crumpled the note in his fist. His face blotched scarlet with rage, while at the same time his stomach gave a nauseating churn of fear. He would no sooner use Ginny and then give her over to be killed than slice his own throat, and yet here Lucius was commanding him to do just that.

Not for the first time in his young life, Draco was forced yet again to think desperately for a way out from between a rock and the proverbial hard place.

Christmas holidays came and went more quickly than Harry or Hermione could have imagined, and though the remainder of them were spent in a state of extreme unease, nothing was heard from the Ministry of Magic or Muggle law enforcement that seemed to point toward Voldemort.

The morning of January first Sirius flooed himself back to Grimmauld Place, carrying back with him a pocketful of shrunken presents and belongings. To Harry and Hermione's great surprise, he hugged James goodbye as well as them although a bit awkwardly, and promised to keep in touch through Dumbledore. The smile on James' face as his friend left told Harry far more than words could have done how well his and Sirius' talk had gone over.

Far too soon, Harry and Hermione found themselves faced with the renewed prospect of N.E.W.T. level classes and returning students pounding the silent halls of the school awake once again. In fact, late next afternoon, it was as if the quiet had never been. Around five o'clock the great double doors of the school slammed open, and hundreds of talking laughing students began pouring inside carrying smaller bags and presents and leaving their trunks on the outside carriages to be apparated in later by the house elves. Within school grounds only the house elves were able to apparate anything, it seemed.

Ron met Harry and Hermione for dinner in the Great Hall an hour later, looking quite a bit less carefree after holiday than he had done last year. He plopped himself down heavily opposite Harry and Hermione and between Seamus Finnegan and Colin Creevey, who if possible, seemed paler and even more withdrawn than he had done even before holiday. Ron made sure both Colin and Seamus were engaged in other conversations before favouring his two best friends with a grim smile. His first words to them upon returning were about the warning Harry had sent him, and Harry wasn't the least bit surprised.

" 'Lo mates…any news yet?" He asked quietly as he grabbed two turkey legs and heaped a pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

Harry shook his head dourly and filled his plate as well, plucking a roll from a basket nearby. "Not a bit and it's frustrating as hell. Dumbledore's got Kingsley Shacklebolt among the Ministry Aurors keeping an ear out for news, and of course he's got his regular connections with the Muggle network."

Ron nodded. "Mum and Dad were in a right state when Ginny and I read them your letter. Dad's already cast about three dozen protective charms over the Burrow but Bill and Charlie'll be over until around January fifteenth, so Mum feels a bit safer, I think. But she's half nutters over you, mate. Thinks you'll be safer with wizards than Muggles when time comes to leave school, especially what with the Dementors attacking you a couple of years ago. She said f Voldemort's still running about come graduation, she'll have you at the Burrow than back with the Dursley's no matter what Dumbledore says. Besides she hates them anyway, the sods…"

"I know she does," Harry smiled fondly. "But if that does happen, I'll be out on my own by then, won't I? I'll be getting my own flat."

Harry missed Hermione suddenly shifting her eyes downward at the table at his words as he was still focussed on Ron.

Ron goggled at him. "Bloody hell…I suppose you will…and so will I once I get the money for it! I still can't believe it's our last year." He sat still for a moment staring blankly through Lavender who was talking with Parvarti a few spaces down the table until he remembered what he'd been just about to say. His gaze moved back to Harry and Hermione.

"Dumbledore's already met with the Order and put them on triple alert. Has them set out in different places all along Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and even undercover in some Muggle areas. Did you know?"

"I'm not surprised," said Harry evenly looking toward Hermione. "He's always right on top of things isn't he?"

"Yes he is," said Hermione quietly.

Ron angled closer to them and continued, but in a much quieter tone. He could've sworn he'd seen Colin leaning into their conversation a bit over his plate of turkey. "And you don't have to worry about Sirius, mate. Dumbledore's already warned the Order to keep quiet near him. He's as worried about him getting involved and being seen as you are."

Harry nodded, feeling some of the heavy, invisible weight slip from his shoulders. "Well, Sirius is helping in a way though he doesn't really know it, what with him now able to watch Muggle news."

Ron quickly shot he and Hermione an incredulous look. "What'd you mean watch Muggle news!?" He hissed out. "You mean he's out running about with them waiting to see if something bloody happens!? Has he gone completely nutters!?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him until she remembered Ron had no idea about television. It had been one of the few things Arthur Weasley had yet to get his hands on. She grabbed his arm before he could begin to rant even louder and attract attention.

"No Ron, of course not. Harry and I gave him a television set for Christmas. It's a box that transmits information to you much like the WWN does; only with pictures. He'll be able to see if anything important happens; maybe even before the Ministry finds out depending on how quickly the Muggles report it to them."

Harry nodded. "It's the one thing I'm afraid of. But Sirius wouldn't stay ignorant forever; he'd find some way of getting information whether or not he had the television. In any case, Muggle reporters are quick with their news."

"Bugger me…" Ron goggled at them, showing Hermione a mouthful of turkey and potatoes before he swallowed. "Well I guess they are quick what with having those fellytones to communicate with and such."

"Telephones," corrected Hermione.

"Tha's wha' I said," said Ron around a mouthful of roll.

"No you didn't Ron, you said…" began Hermione before a quick nudge and subtle shake of Harry's head reminded her that it was useless to argue with him further.

Hermione sighed, disappointed. She felt somehow unfulfilled when she wasn't allowed to correct a glaring mistake.

*************************************************

Ginny passed Hermione, Harry and Ron next afternoon on her way from a gruelling sixth year potions, realising too late that the next class in line was seventh year double potions with the Slytherin. She'd only had a moment to nod to Hermione who, right before entering Snape's classroom had mouthed to her that she wanted to talk later, before she ran almost headfirst into the brick wall visage of Vincent Crabbe, shadowed by the even larger, Gregory Goyle.

"Watch where you're going Gryffinwhore," Crabbe growled out menacingly. Behind him, Goyle snickered dumbly.

"What'd you just call me!?" Ginny reddened, her breath coming in short furious pants.

Theodore Nott, who'd just passed the group backed up with a gleeful expression and cackled. "Listen at this, mates. She acts as if she hasn't heard it before… I know I haven't banged her, but I'm willing to give it a go Weasley, if you're up for it. From what I hear, you always are."

Ginny swept her hand guilefully under her robes and wrapped her fingers tightly round her wand, her eyes blazing violently. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was still a virgin for Godric's sake and even if she wasn't, there was no way in bloody hell she'd give herself to a Slytherin. Well…there'd only ever been one she'd considered before, but that was apparently over. Ginny forced those thoughts away and smiled grimly. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott had her beat as far as largeness was concerned, but she knew her skill with the wand far surpassed theirs.

"Blow it out your shorts you bloody mong," she hissed at Nott whipping out her wand too quickly for any of them to reply. "I don't know where you three get your information, but I wouldn't sleep with you or any other Slytherin for the matter if you paid me all the gold in Gringotts! Now I suggest we all get along to class before I decide to rearrange your arses with your heads...assuming that hasn't already been done."

Nott and Goyle made a motion to move forward, but a sudden glance over the top of Ginny's head quickly made them think otherwise and they slowly backed off. To save face, Nott merely shrugged his shoulders disaffectedly and re-shouldered his books once again.

"Whatever you say Weasley. We've all heard how you like to rip up the sheets with any bloke who'll have you. It's quite pathetic, really," he chuckled poisonously with a sudden nasty glance behind her. Crabbe and Goyle laughed aloud. Ginny gaped at them but still made no move to turn round and see what they were all staring at. Nott continued. "But I have heard poorer witches can climb their way higher up the rich social ladder if they'll just shag the right wizard. Guess you're just giving them all a good test run, aye? How 'bout it Gryffinwhore…up for doing a train?"

Ginny inhaled sharply and made to scream out a reply but was given no chance to. Someone behind her, a someone with a very familiar deep voice suddenly roared ferociously and charged past her.

"Son of a bitch! I'll rip you in half!"

Draco Malfoy was a blur of blonde hair and black school robes as he threw down his books, pounded past her, and launched himself at Nott. Both crashed hard to the floor. His fists began pounding into him wherever they could, and Nott, severely startled at an attack coming from the usually cool Malfoy, finally gained enough wits about him to begin to fight back. Ginny squealed in fright and began to approach them yelling, before Draco shouted at her and shot a hand out to shove her roughly back.

"NO! Stay the hell out of it, Red!"

Nott took that moment to land a hard punch to Malfoy's jaw. He immediately returned it, along with an answering punch to the gut. The sounds of shouting and cursing quickly sent the whole of seventh year potions racing excitedly out from the classroom and into the halls, yelling wildly and punching fists in the air despite Professor Snape barking loudly for them to stay put while he went to investigate. A good fight livened up any class, especially a dreadful N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Snape shoved through the throng now surrounding Draco and Theodore, bulldozing students out of the way and nearly knocking Harry to the ground. Harry snarled at him as he passed, and pushed Hermione behind him to keep her from an errant flying limb or fist. She narrowly missed falling into Colin Creevey. As always, he stood toward the back of the fray to garner the least amount of attention, his face a picture of misery.

"Bloody hell," exhaled Ron loudly as he gaped at the two young men scrambling to beat each other senseless. Draco gave another furious roar at something Nott said and hammered his fist into Theodore's kidney, baring his teeth and bleeding from his nose and lip like a feral animal. Beside Ron, Lavender gave him a poke in the ribs.

"Not now Lav. This's getting good," said Ron keeping his eyes glued to the scuffle.

"Ron," hissed Lavender in an annoyed tone. "Look at your sister!"

Ron whirled to eye Lavender at once. "Ginny? Where!?"

Lavender rolled her eyes at him and pointed toward the very front of the crowd opposite him. Ron strained to peer past Snape, who was now grabbing at both boys and trying without success to pry them apart. Ginny stood dwarfed by a couple of cheering seventh year Gryffindor boys, pressing her knuckles to her mouth. A few tears stole down her cheeks as she watched the fight.

"Wha…" began Ron, flabbergasted. "What the bloody hell is she doing here!? She's supposed to be in Defence Against the Dark Arts!"

Lavender clucked her tongue impatiently at him. "Well I suppose you might find that out by going over and asking her while Professor Snape is busy, mightn't you?"

Ron merely nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in concern and threaded his way through the crowd toward his sister. But as he neared her, it became quite clear from the look she shot him that she was by no means in the mood for explaining herself.

"Ginny…why aren't you…"began Ron above the din.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ginny closed her eyes briefly and shot him a warning look. "Just leave me alone, Ron…please."

Ron looked as if it was beyond his better judgement to do so, but having been on the receiving end of Ginny's temper too many times before, he merely nodded at her, puzzled, and headed back toward Harry and Hermione, who was looking Ginny's way with concern.

Snape finally realised he wasn't going to be able to yank the two fighting boys apart physically. Furiously, he snatched his wand from his robes and bellowed out a spell.

"Difflare!"

Draco and Theodore were immediately shoved apart by an unseen hand and thrown opposite each other to the floor, breathing heavily.

For his part, Draco seemed the less scathed of the two. His normally slick blonde hair fell wildly abound his head, and a cut near his eye dribbled blood down his face, as well as a deeper one on his lip, already beginning to swell. Harry could see a large reddened area on one cheek that would likely be turning into a great purple bruise. His robes were dusty and ripped in places, one sleeve almost completely torn off and his prefects badge now hanging from his tattered robes by only a torn shred of material. The cut and nicked swollen knuckles of his right hand showed obvious signs of recent hard use.

The most obvious place they'd been used was Nott's face. One already small brown eye was already swollen shut, and his nose bled freely from both nostrils. When he turned to the side to spit a mouthful of blood and saliva on the floor, much to Parvarti and Lavender's disgust, Harry could swear he heard a tooth clatter to the floor along with it. His robes were equally ripped, tattered and dirty from the castle floor. He seemed to be reeling a bit as well, no doubt from some of the well placed blows to the head he had received from Malfoy, who was now standing as still as a stone wall opposite him and glaring at him with a snarling face full of hatred.

Breathing heavily, Nott coughed and again spat a mixture of blood and saliva onto the floor, glaring at Malfoy with a completely gobsmacked expression. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Draco!? She's a Gryffindor for Salazar's sake! I was only telling the truth! I didn't deserve any of that shit! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"NEITHER DID SHE!" Draco bellowed in reply, swiping at his mouth with a torn sleeve and beginning to stomp forward again. Harry quickly strode out from the crowd and snatched Draco's left arm before Draco suddenly hissed in pain and yanked it furiously from his grasp. Harry fixed him with a hard look of warning and shook his head slightly at him.

"Don't touch me, Potter." Malfoy glared at him rigidly, his gaze full of hatred…and something else Harry couldn't define.

Puzzlement washed over Harry's features before he spoke up roughly. "Leave it. You're in enough trouble as it is."

" 'Leave it'…right. You're one to talk," snorted Malfoy spitefully.

"So," began Nott again with an ugly sneer. Snape was currently distracted snapping loudly at students to return to the classroom. "You lied then…all to throw daddy off your trail, no doubt. What would he do if he knew his son'd gone soft?"

Before he realised what he was doing, Draco absently raised a hand to touch his left bicep. Nott's eyes flickered down to the hand and then back up in an instant; his jaw falling open with sudden realisation. He spoke again in an awed whisper.

"What's he already done?"

A flash of alarm suddenly passed over Malfoy's face and he dropped the hand quickly. Harry glanced at the two, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as if the answer to something he hadn't even asked a question to was just out of his reach. But Malfoy was spared a reply by Snape, who suddenly reappeared from his classroom to stomp between the two boys.

"Silence!" He hissed out furiously.

Most of the other students had already retreated from Snape's fury to the relative safety of the classroom, including Crabbe and Goyle who'd slunk away earlier like a couple of fat, oily snakes. Only Harry, Malfoy, Nott, and Ginny, who was still gazing at Malfoy with a mixture of hurt and scepticism, remained behind.

Snape approached the four looking by all accounts like a greasy black panther stalking its prey. He circled them menacingly until his eyes fell on Harry.

"Potter," he drawled, eyeing Harry through narrowed, hateful eyes. "What do you have to do with all of this…"

Harry gaped at him. It was obvious he'd shown up same time everyone else had. "Not a thing."

"You don't honestly think I believe you," Snape snarled. "You're far too arrogant for your own good, as usual. You'll be serving detention this weekend along with Malfoy and Nott."

"What!?" Harry bellowed furiously, his hands closing into fists. "I had nothing to do with this and you know it! I showed up same time as all the others! Besides Gryffindor has a game on Saturday!"

Snape favoured him with a scheming smile. Malfoy glanced from one to the other, offering nothing but blank detachment, but Ginny decided to speak up.

"Professor Snape I've been here the whole time…Harry had nothing to do with it; in fact he stopped Malfoy attacking Nott again."

Snape smirked coldly and kept his eyes on Harry. "Then detention for existing, Potter. Now get to class."

Bloody hell… Harry flushed, looked very much as if he would like to wrap his hands round Snape's throat and squeeze until his eyeballs popped out. He shot the Professor a look of purest loathing, which had a much greater effect on Snape than it had ever done before since Harry was now almost taller than he. Snape wrapped his fingers round his wand, mentally begging Potter to do anything to give him reason to blast him, but Harry merely scowled at him and entered the classroom.

Looking thoroughly satisfied with himself, Snape turned his attention back toward the remaining three, his gaze piercing them once again. He turned toward Ginny first. "Ms. Weasley…last I checked you'd not graduated to seventh year potions; in fact, I'm most certain none of the Weasleys will ever make it to a N.E.W.T. level class. Therefore I'm inclined to ask what you think you are doing here."

Ginny alternated glaring from him to the others and opening and closing her mouth as she fished for a plausible excuse.

"As I thought," sneered Snape. "I suggest you get out from my sight and to your next class."

Ginny wanted to have to explain the situation about as much as she wanted to be hexed with boils, so with a last betrayed glance toward Draco, she mutely turned on her heel and headed down the empty hallway. Draco watched her go, his expression carefully neutral. When she had turned the corner out of sight, Snape turned his wrath on the final two students remaining in the hallway.

"I WILL NOT tolerate behaviour of this nature from my own house; grappling about on the floor like some excitable, asinine Gryffindor…" he seethed contemptuously. He narrowed his eyes angrily at Malfoy, "Especially from a Slytherin PREFECT."

Again Malfoy stared at Snape, blankly unaffected. Nott opened his mouth to speak but Snape whirled nastily toward him. "NOT..A..WORD. I don't want to know what started this little melee; I couldn't care less. But be forewarned… If my class is ever interrupted as such by either of you two ever again, Slytherin or not, I'll have you expelled."

He whirled from them, striding inside and obviously expecting them to follow. Nott shot Malfoy a filthy look and made to head inside as well, but Malfoy stepped in front of him, piercing him with steely grey eyes. When he spoke his voice was low and very even.

"If I hear you speak about Ginny Weasley like that ever again, I'll tear you apart."

Nott wanted to point out that he'd got the rumour from reliable sources; that he'd got Ginny's reputation from none other than Draco Malfoy's very own father; his son's words passed on as a joke to Theodore's father during a Death Eaters meeting as a way of once again insulting the Weasley family. But something in the way Malfoy looked at him kept him silent.

As Theodore stepped around him to head into the classroom, Malfoy following, it occurred to him that Draco had finally chosen his side, and it most certainly did not seem to be the same Lucius Malfoy or most of the other Slytherins had chose.

Nott smiled grimly as he dumped himself into a seat and licked another droplet of blood absently from his lips. Draco might soon enough find out just how dangerous wrong choices could be; although it seemed he might have already done just that…

***********************************************

Surprisingly enough for Harry, Hermione and Ron, double Potions class went just as it did any other day that afternoon, with Snape either ignoring them as usual, or finding any excuse he could to belittle a Gryffindor, no matter who it was. He had never been particularly fussy about his victims unless it concerned Harry Potter.

As the three headed out from the classroom and towards Advanced DADA, surrounded by fifty or so Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh years who couldn't stop talking on the row they'd seen before class, Ron took the opportunity to cross-examine Harry over what Snape had said to him to make him enter the classroom after them so angrily.

"He did WHAT!?" shouted Ron, incensed.

"Gave me detention," answered Harry. "The whole weekend…with Nott and Malfoy, no less."

Ron gripped his wand tighter in his hand, enraged. "What for!?"

" 'What for!?' It's obvious, isn't it?" Harry shot at him, pointedly. "For absobloodylutely nothing, that's what, the grotty git. He's never needed a reason, has he?"

Hermione gazed up at him with concern. "But Harry don't you have a match against Ravenclaw this wee…"

"We sure as hell do, and he knows it! Greasy scrote…" Ron interjected furiously.

Hermione blushed scarlet. "RON!"

Ron ignored her. "Harry, tell me you're going to Dumbledore on this…"

Harry paused. "No, I don't think so."

"What…Why not!?" Ron yelled, throwing his hands into the air. "Are you mad!? He'll overturn Snape for sure; he knows he's always shafting you! Anyway, you're Quidditch captain, mate. You have to be there."

"Ron," began Hermione in the tone that usually drove him completely mad. "I think Harry's taking this rather well. Whether or not Professor Snape was right in punishing him, Harry's showing him how to be adult in all this. In the end I think it'll be Professor Snape himself who'll feel ashamed."

Ron goggled at her as if she'd taken complete leave of her senses. Harry rather felt the same, although he decided it would be in his best interests not to show it.

If there was one thing Snape was not, it was humble. He would never admit he'd been wrong; in fact, when it came to punishing Harry, he had proven over and over he really didn't care. But Harry had never been one to concede defeat where the greasy git was concerned; he had his own agenda.

Ron turned his gobsmacked expression back to Harry. "So…You going to tell me WHY you're just going along with this or do you want to leave me in suspense?"

"Something strange happened between Malfoy and Nott while Snape was making everyone get back to the classroom," said Harry. "I want to find out what it was."

"What," smirked Ron. "Did they finally admit they were a couple of fairies and start snogging?"

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. "Ron, for the love of Godric…"

"No," Harry smirked back at him. "Actually it was more something Malfoy did. Nott was banging on about Lucius opinion of his son now he's gone 'soft' and Malfoy sort of…rubbed at his arm, like something's happened. It's just a suspicion, but I'm curious all the same."

Hermione gawped up at him as they entered Lupin's classroom. "Harry…you don't think…"

"I dunno," said Harry more quietly as he nodded to his father and the three took seats near the front. "But it's worth checking. When else will I get the chance?"

Ron conceded with a sigh and finally nodded. "Alright then. I can be Quidditch captain for one game if you think it's important. Ginny'll have to play seeker again, I guess; she wasn't half bad…Not you, though…"

"Thanks mate."

Hermione took a moment to glance over Malfoy's way and then turned back to gaze at Harry and Ron. "Malfoy…a Death Eater? It sounds strange I know, but I've really never believed once it came down to it he'd actually take the mark."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "I just thought he'd be too chickenshit to do it."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed with a scandalised glower. Harry smirked playfully at her.

"Well if it's true I'm glad Ginny broke with the bloody gump," said Ron. "I don't care if he was defending her over whatever Nott said… I won't have him near her again."

He paused and glanced over to where Malfoy now sat at the back of the class, still battered but perched stoically upright in his desk. He shot him a vicious glare, but when Malfoy caught his gaze he merely sneered at him and looked away. Ron frowned. That was most certainly an un-Malfoy like thing to do; it was unlike him not to go farther with it… Just what had happened to him?

****************************************************

Saturday came round much too quickly for Harry, and since he was currently spooned so warmly with Hermione in his bed in the early morning grey-lighted room, he decided rather than leave to start his punishment himself, that he would make Snape send for him.

The smell of Hermione's hair, even the fabric of her pyjamas against his bare chest relaxed Harry into the familiar feeling of home. He wrapped an arm round her stomach and pushed his hand under her top rubbing slow circles on her stomach until he felt her stir against him. He tried backing his hips from her a bit as her movements began waking parts of his body he preferred to stay asleep at the moment, until he saw a smile creep onto her face.

Harry growled down at her and although her eyes were still closed, her smile widened.

"Enjoying yourself?" he whispered down to her.

Hermione cracked one eye open. "Tormenting you? Always."

"You're evil, you know."

"I know."

Harry decided to do a little tormenting himself and, before she knew what was happening, he had flipped her from her side onto her back, straddled her and pinned her arms beneath his knees.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh Harry, don't…"

"Don't what?" Harry asked innocently.

"Please, you know I can't stand it," begged Hermione desperately, squirming beneath him.

Harry flushed and adjusted his position. "Stop that!"

"What?"

"Stop moving like that!" said Harry flushing slightly. Hermione found a blushing barechested Harry cute as hell and couldn't resist moving again. Harry scowled down at her.

"Alright, you've done it. I was gonna be merciful but…"

Harry dug his fingers into her ribs and Hermione began laughing and wriggling even more until he found it almost impossible to keep her pinned underneath him without a certain part of him reacting. He rolled off her but still pulled her to him and attacked her sides.

Hermione screamed shrilly and tried wrapping her arms round her ribs but Harry simply attacked the back of her knees. "HARRY! Stop please! Stop, I'm sorry! Please!"

Harry grinned at her and grabbed an ankle, his fingernails running along the underside of her foot. "Apologise…"

"I DID!" Hermione cried, jerking spasmodically. Harry narrowly missed a kick to the face.

"I didn't hear it." Harry continued his torture.

"Yes you did, you git!" Hermione growled and then kicked and screamed again as Harry's fingers made it to the back of her thighs and pinched her butt. "Oh Merlin stop…STOP! I'M SORRY! PLEASE!"

Harry paused for a moment and Hermione fell back against the bed, breathing raggedly.

"Hmmm…"

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "Wh…what…"

"Tell me what a great wizard I am."

"You stuck-up clot," began Hermione, but Harry again raised claw-like hands and put them to her sides to tickle her.

"ALRIGHT!" Hermione laughed. "You're a great wizard."

Harry pretended to search her face for honesty. "How great?"

"The greatest ever born," said Hermione, and then let her eyes drag down his body and back up to his face and messy black hair appreciatively. "And the best looking, though I'm certainly biased."

Harry pretended to be satisfied and twisted as if to hop from the bed but then turned back to her. "Noooo…that won't do." He attacked her again.

Hermione laughed and screamed again as Harry wiggled his fingers into an armpit and then squeezed the base of her neck, grinning evilly. He knew all of her spots…

"HARRY! S..STOP IT RIGHT NOW, I M..MEAN IT!"

Harry laughed out loud as he attacked the back of her legs and again gave her butt a pinch. "Once more with feeling…"

"STOP IT YOU BLOODY GIT!"

Harry finally stopped his torture and fell back onto the bed laughing maniacally until Hermione threw herself onto him and began a frenzied attack on his own ribs. She loved it when he thrashed about and laughed high-pitched like a young boy…

The tickle torture soon grew into more passionate touching and before Hermione knew it, Harry had rolled her beneath him and both were kissing desperately. Very soon, his tongue began moving against hers in the same hot, slow, methodical way his hips were moving…

No… Hermione thought heatedly. Most definitely not a young boy…

He slid a hand down her side and hip and over to the inside of her thigh, feeling more than hearing her pant into his mouth. Damn her for moving like she was…

Harry slid his mouth from hers and steadily kissed a burning trail down her neck, suckling on her collarbone and lower. As he moved, his wild black hair tickled the side of her cheek and then under her chin, and Hermione felt a thrill travel from her chest straight downward. She gripped at his bare shoulders, marvelling to herself how painfully erotic such a small, normally insignificant thing could be…

Harry's hands moved to rest on the lightly covered, soft rounded sides of her breasts, his tongue and lips moving down the few open buttons of her nightshirt to lave its way between them. Hermione sighed and dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his back, sliding them up over his shoulders and down his defined chest to his nipples, bringing her mouth to his neck and suckling in just the way she knew he liked. He was so hard against her… She breathed in his unique scent, marvelling at how familiar she'd become with it…

Harry moved his mouth back to hers and felt her touch her tongue to his once again. Gods she tasted good, like honey…like Hermione…

He rolled her on top of him, his hands travelling over her back and sweeping over her butt, to pinch it again playfully. He felt her grin into his mouth and playfully dig a few fingers into his ribs. She pulled back to ask when he had decided to keep his wand in his boxers, and Harry replied with a naughty smirk that he had yet to use this particular 'magic wand' on her but was heartily looking forward to it.

He had just begun to describe the 'wood' it was made from when Hermione gave a scandalised huff and tackled him yet again.

They continued playing on for some time, snogging, laughing and tickling until both had rumpled the bed covers into a completely wrecked state.

A knock on the portrait door followed by a tiny voice: "Trespasser… Miscreant…Knave! Have at thee!" alerted them to the fact that playtime was over.

Harry let his head slam back to the pillow with a miserable muffled thud. "Time for detention…"

Hermione frowned sympathetically.

"Stand and fight! Beslubbering boar-pig! Coward!" CLANG! Cadogen must've fallen from his horse again…

"Shut up you little nutter!" Came a familiar muffled voice from the other side. "Harry open up mate, it's Ron…"

Harry threw some jeans on, padded to the door, and caught the familiar tiny 'swish, swish' of Cadogen's sword, followed by another clattering of armour. An evil grin spread slowly across his face. "Ron? How'd I know it's really you?"

"…What!? 'Course it's me! Who'd you think it is!?" Thwip! A tiny arrow sounded, followed by several more…

Harry smirked. "I dunno, your voice is a bit high for Ron… Professor McGonnagol, is that you?"

"Thou art an ill-bred molewart! I shall storm thy castle and seize thy native lands! A pox on thee!"

Ron huffed angrily. "Harry, you sod… Open up or I'll slice the titchy shortarse right from his portrait!"

Harry chuckled and swung the door open to reveal a scowling, greatly annoyed Ron gripping his wand and dressed in full Quidditch gear.

"Ho, ha ha! The coward flees the fight! The birds of prey shall feast on thine entrails!"

Ron stepped inside and slammed the portrait door shut behind him, punching Harry hard in the arm right after. Outside, Cadogen raved on.

"Bastard. When are you and Hermione gonna switch him with a SANE portrait!?"

"He grows on you." Harry shrugged noncommittally.

Ron narrowed his eyes at him. "Right."

"Well I'm glad it's you," Harry grinned as a fully dressed Hermione came out from his room. "Wasn't quite ready for detention, you know."

"Well hold that thought mate," scowled Ron grumpily. "Snape met me as I was headed out with the team to practice. Thought it'd be right hilarious to send me for you, I guess. Says to be at his classroom in a half hour."

Harry's grin faded and he turned to see Hermione beaming approvingly at him. "I'm not doing this to be a better man, 'Mione. It's just information I want."

Ron smirked down at her.

"I know!" said Hermione gruffly. "But it doesn't hurt Professor Snape might see it that way, does it?"

Harry sighed.

Harry dragged his feet, his hands jammed around his robes into the pockets of his worn jeans, and his damp hair, freshly washed from the shower he'd just taken, either sticking up all over the place or laying in clumps against his forehead. The long trudge to Snape's office was not a pleasant one, though Harry knew he could easily have told Dumbledore the situation and had the Potion professor's detention thrown out. But Harry had no wish to appear a spoiled little boy who tattled his abuse to the adoring Headmaster. The thought of it made him queasy. Besides if he had gone that route Snape would loathe him more than he had ever before done, and there was no reason to further fuel the Potion professors hatred of him.

As he walked, Harry's thoughts took a swift turn back to fifth year when he had been left alone in Snape's office during an Occlumency lesson, and he had dared rather recklessly to take a peek into the professor's pensieve left unguarded on his desk.

He remembered as he had seen into the misty silver depths, how his father's behaviour toward Snape had sickened him, and how unfair the attack on him had seemed. James, it appeared, had been arrogant and extremely fond of himself, and had decided in order to make himself appear better, especially where Lily Evans was concerned, that he would torment more unpopular students; even one's who seemed to have been minding their own business and did not deserve it. Harry's high opinion of his father had plunged drastically as of that moment, but Sirius had later on helped him realise he was only seeing Snape's biased memories in the pensieve, and what he had seen was not necessarily how the event had actually occurred. From then on, Harry had learned to be sceptical of the accuracy of any events seen in a pensieve as they could be skewed by the person's point of view.

After this, Harry had decided to reserve his opinion of his father until he had found out more from Sirius, and eventually, he did. Snape and James, much like Harry and Draco Malfoy, had been bitter enemies in school from the start, and were constantly after each other in one way or the other. James, it seemed, hated the dark arts, which Snape had been deeply involved with. Consequently, James had also wanted Snape kept as far away from Lily as possible. He'd never missed an opportunity to lessen Snape in her eyes, though most of the time, it only served to make her angry with him and sympathetic toward Snape.

Snape on the other hand, had been as infatuated with Lily Evans as James Potter, and in his own gruff, awkward way had unsuccessfully tried to woo her. He was also jealous of James and Sirius' popularity in school, though he had tried to mask it by making as if he hated who they were because of it.

Sirius' different point of view had served to make Harry think his father might have not been such a bad wizard after all; just normal. This was definitely a good thing, as he would learn two years later his father was still alive.

Harry paused outside the Potion master's classroom and closed his eyes for a few moments before entering. Time free to let one's brain wander where it would was not always necessarily a good thing. Today it had served only to remind Harry of the even more chaotic turn his life had taken recently, and the fact that with Voldemort's now renewed threat, the madness was far, far from over. He just hoped spending detention with Lucius Malfoy's son might give him some type of information into Voldemort's dealings.

Harry rapped sharply on the classroom door, averting his eyes rather embarrassed as two fifth year Ravenclaws passed by on their way to watch Gryffindor practice and gave him an odd look.

The door swung open and, much to Harry's non-surprise, Snape stood at the front along with a sullen Malfoy and Nott looking in a particularly nasty, but satisfied mood.

"Good you could join us, Potter. You're ten minutes late."

Harry ignored him and ambled up to the front, avoiding Malfoy and Nott's gazes much as they were avoiding his.

Snape waltzed round his desk and yanked out from behind it a large, black cauldron, slamming it down on the first table he came upon. He then turned and gestured towards the huge bookshelf lining the east wall of the classroom.

"I've acquired a great lot of specimens throughout my years as a Potion's master. The top shelves consist of dried roots, plants and such, but the bottom shelves hold ingredients which must be suspended in a preserving solution."

Harry eyed row upon row of slimed, sometimes scaly looking plants and creatures floating in jars of murky yellowish fluid and felt his stomach give an odd churn. He could only imagine the stench that must come from one of those opened jars. That might explain Snape's particular scent, he thought with a smirk of satisfaction. Both Nott and Malfoy looked a bit sickened as well.

To Harry's regret, Snape had been studying him.

"I'm glad you find this amusing Potter. We'll see if through the weekend you can keep that smile." Snape narrowed his eyes at the three and pointed lazily at the cauldron and then back at the bookshelf. "You three will be brewing a new vat of pickling potion to re-preserve each and every one of these."

Nott blanched. "Professor Snape there's got to be at least two hundred jars there!"

"And that's why I've been so gracious as to allow you the whole weekend to accomplish it, Theodore." He smiled genuinely at the way all three faces suddenly fell and whirled to stride toward a bookshelf across the room. After a moment of searching the shelves, he plucked out a thick, dusty black volume and walked back over to toss it onto the desk with a loud bang. The Complete Primer of Preserving Potions stared back at them in large gold letters from the book's cover.

"I was quite dreading this task, I have to admit," continued Snape as he made lazily for the classroom door. "Luckily for me you three fell into it. In that book will be all the instruction you will need, along with every ingredient you'll need in the usual supply cabinet. Certain of the items you may find will require a different potion. If I find upon my return this evening you three were lazy in your research and have destroyed any of my specimens, the consequences will be most dire. Good day."

The door shut behind him with a loud snap, and Harry, Draco and Theodore were left to scowl nastily at one another.

********************************************

Some three hours later, Harry took a moment from sweating over the steaming cauldron to glance up at Snape's classroom clock. It was one in the afternoon, and as if in reply to Nott's constant complaining about lunch, his stomach growled angrily at him. But as he continued to stir the foul smelling concoction counter-clockwise, Harry was sure the Potion's master would not suddenly decide to grow a conscience and offer them a break to eat. Apparently Malfoy had decided the same.

"Shut your gob Nott, for the love of Salazar," snapped Malfoy roughly as he used a gloved hand to pluck a slimy, dead creature from it's dirty solution and plop it unceremoniously into a jar full of clean stuff. "We're not getting lunch; stop whining."

"I never had breakfast either…"

"Neither did I," said Harry. "Get over it."

Nott growled as he dipped and filled another jar and sent it sliding dangerously toward Malfoy, who grabbed it just before it went crashing to the floor. He slammed it down and turned to scowl dangerously.

"Watch it, you filthy smeg! You want us in more trouble!?"

"Wouldn't have done in the first place if you'd kept your ruddy head about you, you stupid lombard!" Nott dropped the dipping ladle and whirled furiously on Malfoy. "What's with you, anyway!? Coming to the Gryffinwhore's aid…"

Harry whitened with rage. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL…"

But Malfoy roared furiously and lunged at Nott landing a few well-placed punches before Harry could jump at them and finally throw them apart.

"Don't touch me, Scarhead!" roared Draco taking a swing at him as well. Harry threw up his arm and caught the punch on his tricep, shoving Malfoy back at the same time.

"GET OFF IT!" Harry thundered at them. "You want Snape giving us another weekend of detention!?"

Nott, breathing heavily and swiping at yet another bloody lip, spoke up sarcastically. "Oh what…is Potter the Great coming to put an end to the madness again? Go on then, sort us out."

But Harry merely glared furiously at him. "What's all this 'Gryffinwhore' shit you're banging on about!?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth, completely enraged, but Nott merely crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Harry with a smirk. "Don't tell me you haven't dipped your wick, Potter. Ginny Weasley's drooled after you for years. Been having a bit of the afternoon delight, aye?"

This time around, it was Malfoy who pulled Harry from Nott, but only after a few punches to the face. Harry shoved him away angrily and stabbed a finger at Nott.

"You bloody bastard! I hear you say anything like that again and I'll rip you a new arsehole unless Ron gets there first! Ginny's like my sister!"

Nott stood shakily, holding his stomach and gesturing toward Malfoy. "Maybe," he grunted. "But Malfoy might tell you different."

Malfoy straightened and lifted his chin reflexively, but Harry could swear he saw a bit of guilt in his eyes.

Harry speared him with a dangerous glare. "You tell me what he's on about or so help me I'll rip you both in two. Or worse, I'll let Ron at you."

Malfoy sneered at him. "You could try."

Harry took a step toward him. "Don't tempt me…"

Malfoy worked his jaw thoughtfully and stared from Nott to Harry, who looked ready to kill. He made his decision quickly and pulled out his wand.

Harry raised a hand, prepared to counter-attack when Malfoy aimed it toward Nott, whose mouth suddenly went slack.

"Petrificus Totalus."

Nott's body snapped together, suddenly rigid, and slammed backward to the floor with a loud thud. His eyes, large with surprise, stared unseeing at the cobwebs waving from the ceiling.

Harry glanced a bit confused from one to the other, and Malfoy watched as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Forgot about the wandless magic," sneered Malfoy sarcastically, shoving his wand back into his robes. "Potter the Great seems an appropriate name, doesn't it?"

"Slag off," said Harry testily. He turned toward the cauldron he'd forgotten and scourgified the now thick green contents with a wave of his hand. The mess disappeared instantly, and he turned back toward Malfoy who now sat perched lazily on the edge of a desk.

"I lied to my father," said Malfoy simply.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "About?"

"Ginny," Malfoy sighed.

Harry set his jaw angrily and glared at him. Draco seemed to honestly regret it, but Harry couldn't bring himself to be fooled. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to keep calm. "And she thought you really cared for her…"

"I DO!" bellowed Draco suddenly bolting upright.

"THEN WHY!?"

"Because father found out about us, that's why!" continued Draco, suddenly beginning a frustrated pace about the room. "I tried to break with her before anyone could see and let him in on it…"

"You mean any of the other damn Slytherins," said Harry with a contemptuous sneer.

"Yeah Potter… the other damn Slytherins," Draco whirled on him with a hard sarcasm to his voice and jabbed a finger toward the rigid prone form of Nott. "But that bastard had already told his father, who let mine in on, you see?"

Harry stood. "They're both in the same costume club, I guess," he shot out sarcastically. "Black hoods and slitted eyes, right?"

"You're missing the point as usual, Scarhead," seethed Malfoy.

"Enlighten me," Harry growled back.

Malfoy rolled his eyes at him and made a fist as if to punch something from frustration. "I had to make father believe Ginny was just a…distraction."

"So you thought you'd take the easy way out, and now half the school thinks Ginny's some sort of slag," Harry shot back.

"Easy way out…" Malfoy whirled back toward him, a look of utter hatred on his face and took a step forward, but seemed to think better of it in an instant. For one brief moment he'd raised a hand as if to touch his bicep again but caught himself in time and dropped it. "You don't know shit, Potter."

But Harry hadn't missed the sudden movement, nor had he missed the expression that had flitted over Malfoy's face when he'd realised what he'd almost given away. He leaned against Professor Snape's desk, watching Malfoy carefully.

"You think you had it so bloody awful growing up," Malfoy continued, looking so full of hate he seemed sick with it. "Having to live with Muggles; knowing your parents were killed by some mental evil wizard who's out to get you now, aye? Poor, sad Potter…that's what everyone thinks, don't they? D'you love all the sympathy you get, Scarhead? D'you love being everyone's bloody hero? D'you stay awake at night thinking on your dead parents; the ones who loved you so..very..much…"

"D'you wish your father was dead?" asked Harry quietly with a blank expression.

"My father is dead, Potter. He's been dead to me for years…just not quite dead enough." Malfoy stopped and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Harry. "What the hell are you on about? As if your fussed over anything I want. And the feeling is wholly mutual, you can be sure."

Harry had never seen someone as consumed with hatred, though he felt as if he sometimes bordered on it when an image of Voldemort burned in his thoughts. The look of pure loathing burning in Malfoy's eyes told Harry much more than what he needed to know. "So you want to kill him, is that it?"

Draco fisted his hands and snarled at Harry. "D'you have a point Scarhead or d'you actually think you're that fascinating to…"

"Is it because he gave you the dark mark?" said Harry finally.

And Malfoy suddenly stopped every motion he'd made, his face completely draining of colour.

Harry watched him work his jaw, a thousand different conflicting emotions crossing his face as if he were a theatre screen set on fast forward. He clenched and unclenched his fists reflexively, his eyes darting from every corner of the room, to Nott now moving a bit on the floor, to the door behind Harry as if possibly contemplating escape. He looked as if he had no where to run.

Nott sat up slowly, his eyes fixed on the two young men facing each other. But rather than the look of confusion Harry and Malfoy had expected, Theodore's eyes were widened with triumph, and since the spell was now fully worn off he stood, although slowly owing to the hard fall he'd taken.

"You do know the petrifaction charm does nothing toward a person's hearing," he breathed out, his face a mirror of excitement. He moved toward the other two sneering, and gave a short scoffing laugh. "Knew it moment we fought in the hallway, but until now I've had no proof. I saw you grab at your arm when I'd got hold of it, Malfoy… Guess daddy wouldn't let his son embarrass OR betray him, would he?"

At the sudden murderous look on Malfoy's face, Harry knew he might be contemplating something desperate and shifted a bit where he was, ready to take action if necessary. But Malfoy and he were roughly the same build and height…

Malfoy stood, eyeing Nott with a very dangerous snarl. "You say a WORD to anyone on ANY of this you grotty little bastard and…"

"What…" Nott chuckled derisively. "You try anything else and you'll be chucked out of Hogwarts so fast you won't know until your arse hits the street. And now you have nowhere to go, do you? Poor little rich wizard… There's loads of people who'd love to hear this, I think…"

Malfoy moved toward him with fists raised, all thoughts of using his wand gone from his head as his body throbbed with fury. But Nott whipped out his own wand and aimed it, cocking his head at him. Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

"Scared I've got something on you now, Malfoy? You should be…I'm telling the first load of Slytherins I come across…"

"Obliviate!"

Nott suddenly blinked, confused, and then took a few moments to stare blankly ahead. Malfoy whirled around.

"No your not," said Harry simply, lowering his hand.

Malfoy stared at him with not a trace of appreciation and instead, scowled angrily. "I don't need your help, damn it. I can take care of my own bloody problems…"

"Bullshit," said Harry.

Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but next moment the door to the classroom banged open and both boys jumped back, expecting an angry Snape to begin hexing them for their lack of anything to show for hours spent 'working'.

Professor McGonnagol rushed in, her black teachers robes billowing behind her. With her nostrils flaring, her lips set in a thin line, and her face white with fear, even Nott, who still looked as if he wasn't sure where the last half hour had just gone, could tell something was drastically wrong.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but she waved her hands frantically at him. "No time Potter. Come with me, NOW."

"Professor, I'm in detention," said Harry. "If I leave, Snape'll have my head…"

"Charlie, Bill and Arthur Weasley were just attacked," said McGonnagol briskly, her voice cracking a bit. "Dumbledore wants to see you straight away."

Both Harry and Malfoy started with surprise, but for very different reasons, and Harry ran out of the room after her, leaving Malfoy thinking more heavily than he had done even previously, on Ginny.

*************************************************