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Harry Potter and the Black Society by carondelet
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Harry Potter and the Black Society

carondelet

Rating: R for language, graphic imagery, emotional angst, fantasy violence/combat, and adult themes.

Title: Harry Potter and the Black Society

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings, and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling as published by, including and not limited, to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred. Additionally, locations in and around the United Kingdom are used as a basis for "historical reality" or in a purely fictitious manner.

Additional disclaimers may be found in Chapter Five, "At Least, Be Humane".

Spoiler Alert: This fic contains spoilers to Books 1-5. If you haven't read any of the books or have at least seen the films, please consult your local video retailer.

Summary: (It may or may not be considered AU; it does use elements that J.K. Rowling has only given cursory attention to in the novels.)

The Second Wizard War has since begun. After each new conflict, the barriers placed between the Wizarding world and the Muggle world yield just a little more. Forsaken pacts are made fresh and new allies are revealed as the war finally tears not only into the Muggle world, but into the sanctuary of Hogwarts itself. Harry Potter soon realizes that his wish for a life close to ordinary will take him as far away from normal as is magically or humanly possible...

Pairings: Harry/Hermione

Author's Notes: The rating has been changed due to an event late in this chapter and for violent scenes in proceeding chapters of this story. Thanks to RONIN10 for convincing me to cleave what was to be a monstrously sized Chapter Eight into two pieces. You should thank him as well.

Your mileage may vary.

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HARRY POTTER AND THE BLACK SOCIETY

[] CHAPTER EIGHT: IN THE CRUXSHADOWS OF THE REMAINS

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Though the First Years had been a "bit of a handful" at Breakfast (that being Nearly Headless Nick's term in passing, and not Harry's nor Ron's characterisation as that was simply far too charitable a term), and were slightly subdued at the morning break, by Lunch they were…unbearable.

Uncontrollable.

Bloody heathens.

It was an absolute horror show.

Neither Ron nor Harry could think of what could have possibly occurred to set the First Years into such a mutinous state. Perhaps it was the result of having sat in two classes (the first being Charms) and now thinking that they could take on the world ("Bloody Flying, who in their bloody right mind would schedule Bloody Flying Bloody Class in the bloody mid-morning, right before bloody Lunch!" Ron seethed at one point), or perhaps it was the result of wanting to skip Lunch to go right into the next class (DADA) to learn, as several First Years put it, "how to hex those Slytherin prats into next week, just like on the train!" (this made Harry groan to no end), or perhaps it was the fact that they were just so…young.

"Were we like this?" he muttered to Ron at one point.

"Explains a lot about Perce, doesn't it?" was Ron's miserable reply.

By the time that he and Ron had wrangled their firsties into the Great Hall, Harry was ready to swear off being a prefect, being a Gryffindor, and being a wizard all together. A life of Chartered Accountancy held a newfound fascination for him.

Harry staggered over to where his mates were seated and fell onto the bench. He dropped his arms onto the tabletop before him, collapsed into the folds of his robes, and groaned loudly.

"A rough time of it, then?" he heard Neville ask him.

Harry mumbled a loud but muffled, "YES" into his robes.

He felt a hand awkwardly pat him on his right shoulder. "It'll be all right, mate." It was Dean who spoke to him. "They'll…settle. A bit. After a little while."

After I've Stupefied the whole bloody lot of them, he thought scathingly. Harry set his chin atop his forearm and regarded Dean with a sour look. "And how d'you know they'll settle?"

Thomas shrugged and made an apologetic face. "Erm, I don't know, really," he shrugged.

Harry snorted and reburied his face into his robes. "THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT," he vehemently snarled into the fabric.

There was a moment's pause and then, "So…where's Ron?" It was Neville who spoke. His voice sounded as though he was trying to act as a pacifier, or peacemaker.

Harry thought it a pity that he wasn't quite in the mood to be pacified. Neville was getting to be rather good at diplomacy.

"DUNNO. PROLLY RAN OFF SCREAMIN'. I DUNNO HOW HE MANAGED THIS FOR TWO BLOODY YEARS." Even though his head was buried in the folds of his robes, Harry's voice still carried a bit. Harry didn't care if the First Years heard him or not. As a matter of fact, he wanted them to hear him.

Let them know fear of the Boy Who Lived To Be Completely Cheesed Off By This Sodding Life…

"Eh, maybe Percy left him some notes, before, you know, that ponce got after bein' mental." He heard someone pour some liquid. "So, where's Hermione at, then?"

Harry shifted his posture into a full and upright sitting position so quickly that he wondered how it was that he didn't break his neck. His movement was so rapid that he startled his roommates. Harry narrowed a glance at Seamus as they all stared at him. "Why d'you want to know?" He fairly snapped the question off at Finnegan; he immediately scrambled and added, "I mean, I haven't seen her since Potions."

Seamus blinked at him and then said, "I was hopin' to get another look at the Quidditch Almanac. It's due back tonight. Madame Pince wouldn't let me have it long for some reason." Seamus sniffed and shook his head. "What'd those ickle firsties do to yeh? Yer in a right state."

He reached for a mug and the pitcher of pumpkin juice, his mouth having gone dry. "Um, sorry, Seamus. I just wasn't…expecting it to be this difficult. Ron never told me that being a prefect was this hard. And I never thought that the firsties could be so…"

"…Much like a pack of savages?" said Hermione's voice from behind him. Startled, Harry managed to slosh juice not only into his mug, but outside of it as well. The excess liquid pooled around the mug and had thoroughly soaked his hand and the edge of his robes, the cuff of his dress shirt, and part of the sleeve of his jumper. He hissed a Muggle oath under his breath. Hermione was beside him in an instant, immediately with a napkin in hand, blotting his clothes dry. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to startle you like that."

"It's okay, Hermione, I just…it's been…well, you know."

"Yes, I do know. And honestly, these are the…most contentious bunch of firsties I've seen. Not just our House, in the other Houses as well. Luna was just telling me that there are some very peculiar First Year students in Ravenclaw."

"Luna? She told you that? Luna Lovegood called them peculiar?" echoed Dean.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I know…"

"Bloody hell," murmured Seamus. "That must be one hell of a lot that Ravenclaw have got, then," he joked.

She laughed and said, with a smile, "I don't think Luna was expecting to be a prefect this year, so I would imagine that any firstie would seem peculiar to her."

Seamus nodded and grinned back at Hermione.

Harry blinked.

He could swear that time seemed to slow and stretch. All noise in the Great Hall vanished, and the only thing that he could hear was the sound of rushing in his ears. The only thing he could see were two sets of white teeth. Harry looked from Seamus to Hermione and then back again. He came to the sudden determination that he needed to go for a walk. A long walk. Perhaps a walk back to Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia is rather decent now, so it won't be so bad. And it would be worth the looks of shock on Uncle Vernon and Dudley's piggy faces. Yes, I think I shall go for a very long walk indeed. He jerked his arm away from the Head Girl, muttered, "Thanks, Hermione," and then rose from the table.

From the side of his eye he could just see the looks of concern on his friends' faces as he moved away from the table. Harry felt a twinge of guilt, but it wasn't strong enough to suppress the…feeling, the peculiar, queasy feeling in his stomach. He had to get away. Just…leave the feeling behind. As he began to stamp off, Hermione called out after him. "Harry? What - where are you going?"

His stomach clenched at the note of anxiety in her voice, but Harry didn't turn to look at her. "To find Ron." He quickly headed for the large double doors that led to the Entrance Hall. He heard the shifting of robes from behind him and instinctively knew that Hermione had followed him. He stopped and began to turn to face Hermione. At that moment, someone coming into the Great Hall walked straight into Harry.

"What the-"

"Harry!" Hermione had run into him as well, hitting him in the back.

"For Merlin's-"

"Harry, Hermione, come here." It was Ron who had collided with Harry. He reached out, grabbed him and Hermione by the wrists, and dragged them into the Entrance Hall. "Why is your wrist soaking wet?" he muttered loudly.

"I spilt pumpkin juice on it." Harry made a face and demanded, "Where are we going?"

"Yes, Ron, what are you doing?" Hermione demanded, not quite following him, but not quite fighting against his lead either.

Ron didn't stop walking until they were at the statue of the large, brass school namesake by the main doors. He spun round to face them and said, in a voice that was deadly earnest, "We need to go to the Staff Room. Right now." He began climbing the staircase to the second floor.

"Are you mad? Why are we going to the Staff Room? Ronald, what is wrong with you?"

"Hermione, please don't argue with me, we haven't much time. We need to get there straight away."

Harry and Hermione looked to one another in stunned silence. It wasn't like Ron to be so forceful, but many things had happened over the course of Sixth Year and the summer, things that were bound to have a significant impact. Finally, Harry asked, "Have we been summoned or something? Why are we going to the Staff Room?"

Ron had reached the landing. He turned and regarded them gravely. "We haven't been summoned. But something's happened and this is the only chance we're going to have at finding out what it is."

Harry and Hermione looked to one another again, and then began to climb after Ron. 'Do you know anything about what this might be about?" she muttered to Harry.

"No, I don't," he answered in kind. "But maybe this is the only way we can get answers."

"To go skulking about the school? After everything we've done, after all we've been through? We're owed better than that," she scowled.

As they made their way up the stairs, Harry had to admit to himself that Hermione was right. He never thought he'd hear her say that, however, not ever. They had changed. He found himself wondering, and not for the first time, how much so.

They met up with Ron and he led the way to the Staff Room, not saying a word. The entire walk, Harry kept sliding glances over at Ron, speculating as to what had happened to make him so serious. He caught sight of Hermione doing the same and knew that she was running through every imaginable scenario in her mind. He found that to be quite comforting.

Ron paused outside of the Broom Closet and reached into the satchel that was slung over his shoulder. Harry hadn't noticed that Ron was carrying anything until the redhead opened the flap. 'I hope you don't mind, mate, but we need this." He withdrew a large, shimmering expanse of fabric that Harry immediately recognised.

"The Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione exclaimed. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are going to get us expelled!"

"Could you try to not sound so bloody much like my mum? No, I am not going to get us expelled," he snorted. "That's why I went up to our dorm to fetch the cloak. Now come along. We're wasting time." Ron unfurled the cloak and held it over his head, his arms stretched wide to either side. "I'll need to be in the middle since I'm the tallest. I'll hunch to hide my feet and robes." When they didn't move, Ron scowled and hissed at them, "If you won't do this with me, I'll do it myself."

There was an awkward moment, one that became quite tense in Harry's estimation. Then, with a huff, Hermione stalked over and stood to Ron's left. Harry closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and walked to stand to Ron's right. Ron let the cloak fall over them and they started on the short walk to the Staff Room.

They stood outside of the door. Ron led them to stand with their backs to the wall. "We're not going in?" Harry whispered.

"Someone will see the door opening," Hermione murmured in reply.

"My dad will be along shortly," Ron added in a hushed tone. "He's the reason why we're here."

Harry was surprised. That meant this had something to do with the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps it would explain Snape's odd behaviour. Harry didn't think that Mr. - Professor Weasley would have said anything to Ron about Order business. There had been a few occasions where Ron's dad had shared things with them against the overall wishes of the Order, but those occasions were now practically non-existent. The Order had, for all intents and purposes, shut them (Harry, Hermione, and Ron) out of all discussions Sixth Year. Not even the best efforts of George and Fred had been successful in helping them to discover how and in what way the Order was planning on defeating the Death Eaters. Things had gotten a bit out of hand Sixth Year, in more ways than one.

Things had gotten a bit out of hand Sixth Year. Harry almost laughed at that thought. A bit out of hand didn't even scratch the surface of how utterly pear-shaped…

"What did your father say to you?" He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that the sound of Hermione's voice made Harry wince.

"He didn't say anything to me." Ron was looking down at the floor, his face still set in a most serious expression. "I overheard him speaking via Floo to Mum. I had popped into his class to see how his morning had been and I heard them talking. Mum started talking to him about something awful that had happened around London. Dad said that Dumbledore had called for a meeting of the Order and that he was off to the Staff Room after the start of Lunch. It seemed like Dad knew what had happened, or at least, that something had happened in London, the way that he and Mum spoke. When he mentioned going to the Staff Room, I slipped out of Muggle Studies, ran to the dorm, fetched the cloak, ran down to the Great Hall, and here we are now. Waiting."

"I wonder what happened in London," said Hermione slowly.

Harry's eyes unfocussed and he stared through the cloak at the stone floor before them. "I wonder what happened where…it might not have even been London," he murmured in a distant voice.

Hermione moved beneath the cloak to look at him. "She's all right, Harry." From the look on her face Harry knew that, if Ron had not been standing between them, that she would have reached out and taken him by the arm.

Ron managed a nod beneath the cloak. "Someone would have said something to you, mate," he added.

"D'you really think so? They could be meeting to figure out a way to tell me that my Aunt, my Aunt who suddenly remembered to love me, is dead now, like everyone else who's ever loved me. It would be bloody typical, wouldn't it?" His words were angry, but there was little emotion behind them. For some reason, Harry found that he was suddenly quite tired. Drained. Exhausted, even. The thought that something might have happened to his Aunt…especially now…it would just be the way, wouldn't it?

He was spared further thought on the matter by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Professor Weasley. The three of them stood very still as he approached. He opened the door to the Staff Room and entered it.

They made to slip in past him.

Professor Weasley stopped just past the threshold. Harry spied that there was barely enough room to pass him to his right, but only if they all stood up straight…which was not possible if they were all to remain covered.

"Professor Snape," he called out into the Staff Room.

Harry had the best view of the room of the three of them and could see Snape. He was seated at a table in the far corner of the room, in the darkened corner. Seated with him were Professors Lilasmorte and Paisot. He frowned. There was something wrong about that, something that bothered Harry greatly. It appeared that Snape and Lilasmorte had been engaged in serious conversation. At the sound of his name, Snape looked up and toward the doorway. Harry's eyes widened at the expression on Snape's face. He looked…embarrassed.

What in the hell is going on at this school?

"Professor Weasley," the Potions Master replied in a loud voice. He pronounced the title with a measure of disdain, so Snape must have been feeling better, Harry supposed.

"A word, if you please." Weasley took a step into the Staff Room, giving the trio the opportunity to enter unopposed. They carefully slipped between Ron's dad and the doorframe, taking care to move as quickly as they could without being seen. They slid along the length of the wall to stand in front of a long sideboard.

"Yes, of course," said Snape. He stood from the table, gave Paisot and Lilasmorte a strange look, and then quickly stepped toward the door.

"Headmaster Dumbledore should like to see you in his office." In a lower voice, Weasley added, "Immediately. It's about the incident from this morning." He stressed the word incident.

Snape nodded mutely and walked through. Professor Weasley tilted his head to the staff remaining, and pulled the door to a close.

They had no chance to follow.

Harry couldn't believe it. He risked a glance at Hermione and Ron. Her mouth was open slightly and Harry knew that she was regretting following Ron into the Staff Room. It wasn't Ron's fault. Harry would have done the same in his position.

Ron seemed angry and frustrated and his face was a dangerous shade of red. Harry knew exactly how he felt. The Order was meeting in Dumbledore's office and here they were, trapped in the Staff Room. If Ron had been able to say something, Harry was sure that it would have included the words "bloody" and "hell".

Hermione was shaking her head slowly. He knew that she was thinking something along the lines of Ron acting without thinking, but he had thought it out, just not as far as Hermione probably would have. As it was, Harry quickly resigned himself to standing and waiting until the end of the Lunch break. It was the only thing that they could do.

It was then that one of the professors in the Staff Room said something.

"They're meeting right now, aren't they?" It was Professor Auct who had spoken. He was standing by the fireplace, one arm resting atop the mantelpiece.

Harry didn't like the question. They? Well, Auct is an Auror and the Order isn't exactly a secret. But no one is supposed to know that Snape is a member.

Professor Lilasmorte shifted in her seat and made a face at Auct, one that would have made Harry laugh in a different situation. "I s'pose they are."

Paisot chuckled at that. "Should we meet now?"

The trio exchanged glances. What did that mean? Harry blinked and made a quick scan of the room. Present were Professors Auct, Lilasmorte, and Paisot. Also present was Professor Sinistra and Madame Pince. He frowned. The scene struck him as unusual for some reason. There was no particular reason for it. It was the Staff Room, after all, and they were Hogwarts staff.

"What would we meet about?" asked Sinistra with a wry tone to her voice. She was seated in an overstuffed chair to the left of the fireplace, sitting sideways with her back to one armrest and her legs draped over the other. He could see that she was wearing very long black boots. She looked a bit more like a student, a Muggle student, at that moment than their Astronomy professor. Madame Pince, seated on the settee opposite the hearth, answered her.

"Perhaps we could meet about…baking." There was a sly smile on her face. In all of Harry's years at Hogwarts, he could not remember ever seeing Madame Pince smile.

Professor Sinistra's interest seemed to be piqued. "Baking? What makes you mention that?"

"Well-" The librarian was interrupted by a the sound of something tapping at the door. It was faint, but it could be heard plainly in the Staff Room. Auct frowned, shrugged, and then walked to the entryway.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all tensed, ready to make a break for the door. With luck, Professor Auct might mistake any noise or movement for Peeves, the resident poltergeist. Harry was certain that he and his friends were thinking the same thing: get out and get to Dumbledore's office, somehow.

The Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher pulled open the door, but not wide enough for the three of them to get through. Judging the gap, it was perhaps just wide enough for Hermione to slip through, but that was it. Harry saw Ron's shoulders sag and he felt badly for him. It was a good idea. There was no way for him to know that the Order weren't meeting in the Staff Room. They would simply have to wait and try to find out the details of the meeting another way

An owl hopped into the room and then took flight, headed straight for Professor Lilasmorte. She extended an arm, concern apparent on her face. "Ashengrace." She had addressed the owl and to Harry, she sounded worried. He reckoned that she had reason to be. The Great Grey Owl appeared quite shaken, so much so that the sight of it made Hermione clasp a hand over her mouth. He turned back to watch Lilasmorte slowly stroke the owl. It was covered in soot and ash and some of its feathers appeared singed. "Edmund," she said in a quiet voice. Professor Paisot stood and immediately walked over toward the sideboard.

Harry felt his heart spasm in a flush of panic. He could feel Ron and Hermione tense again as they readied themselves for movement. When Paisot went to Harry's right, to the water pitcher, he nearly let slip a sigh of relief. Paisot poured a draught into a small bowl and took it back to the table, where he offered it to Ashengrace. The owl hopped from Lilasmorte's arm and over to the bowl, where it began to eagerly drink. Paisot slowly petted the back of the owl while Lilasmorte removed the scroll attached to its leg.

As she read the contents, Harry could see her expression change from one of concern to one of what he presumed was anger to one that was most certainly disgust. She looked up from the scroll and levelled a glare at Auct. "This is what they are meeting about," she told him, an edge to her voice. She stood and tossed the scroll to him.

He had easily caught the scroll. As he read, the look on Auct's face went through several changes as well, finally settling on a look that Harry thought was rather grim.

When Lilasmorte sat down, her eyes flickered in the direction of the sideboard. There was the briefest of pauses and then she took her notebook, the black notebook that she had in class, opened it, and began to write something using a Muggle fountain pen. She was left-handed, Harry noted.

The Ancient Runes professor nodded at Auct. "What is it?" questioned Paisot. He was still petting Lilasmorte's owl Ashengrace, but there was a frown on his face to match Auct's expression. Paisot's glasses were sitting on the tip of his nose, making his expression somewhat comical.

"Auct?" enquired Sinistra, shifting position to sit in the armchair properly.

Auct sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose that we should have a meeting," the DADA professor stated quietly.

"Können wir bitte...?" It was Lilasmorte. She was still writing in her notebook. Harry had no idea of what she had said, but it seemed as though Auct understood.

"Was ist los?" he responded in kind. Harry wasn't positive, but the language sounded like German to him. He could tell by the look on Ron's face that he was completely lost. Hermione appeared as though she recognised the language, at least. He found that to be encouraging.

Lilasmorte continued to write in her notebook. "Ich habe ein Problem mit dem Zimmer." Problem. Harry, Hermione, and Ron understood that word. There was a problem with something.

Auct frowned. It was almost as though he wasn't quite following whatever it was that Lilasmorte was saying to him, or didn't know anything about whatever problem it was that she had mentioned. "Was ist das?" He was asking her something again; Harry could figure out that much.

The Advanced Muggle Studies teacher finally stopped writing, ripped out the page from the notebook, and then began to roll it up. She looked up at Auct, said, "Es ist zu klein," and then cast a glance over at the sideboard.

Auct's purple eyes followed her gaze. Harry swore that Auct looked directly at him. The professor looked back at Lilasmorte and gave her a little half smile.

He can see us. She can see us. They can both bloody see us. I don't believe it. How?

"What in the hell are the two of you on about?" demanded Sinistra. Harry felt that he could have practically hugged her for saying what was on his mind.

"I'll tell you that part later," the DADA professor smiled. The Astronomy professor rolled her eyes and snorted at him.

"Edmund, would you mind opening the door for me? I'm sending Ashengrace out." The owl hooted at her loudly and flapped its wings. She regarded it with a sad look on her face. "I know…I know…just please be careful, Ashengrace. Jeremy needs to see this. I wouldn't ask you to return if it wasn't important." The owl stared at her for a long stretch. She tapped her fingers on the table surface and then the owl hopped onto her arm.

She and Professor Paisot walked together toward the Staff Room door. As they crossed the room, Professor Auct went past them to the sideboard, to the right of Harry, where he poured himself a goblet of water. He turned to partially lean against, partially sit on the sideboard and slowly sipped at the water.

Paisot opened the door as wide as he could and Lilasmorte released Ashengrace into the hall. The owl was soon out of sight, flying to Jeremy, whoever that might be. She stepped to one side of the doorway, winding up at the sideboard to the left of Hermione.

Simultaneously, the trio came to the conclusion that this was their prime opportunity to escape the Staff Room and to try to find a way, some way, to slip into Dumbledore's office. They made for the open door.

The cloak slid off of them, exposing the students to the teachers in the room.

They froze in a panto of shock. Harry had stopped in mid-stride, his eyes wide. Ron was still crouched over and he looked positively gobsmacked. Hermione had a look of absolute terror on her features. Harry knew that she was thinking that they were going to be expelled. There was no way that they wouldn't be expelled, not after the fight on the train, and certainly not after being caught in the Staff Room.

Ron made his squelching OhMerlinthereisabloodygreatspiderherehelpme noise and closed his eyes.

As silly as it might have looked to anyone else, Harry thought it to be a good idea and closed his eyes as well. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to see it.

"Oh, Merlin," he heard Hermione say. Her voice sounded quite weak and he thought that perhaps she might faint. Hermione had never fainted in the years that Harry had known her, but faced with certain expulsion, he was almost sure that this could be the first time.

Harry and his friends heard some giggling to one side of them, and then a female voice said, "Hello." That was Lilasmorte's voice.

And then a male voice followed with, "Hello." This would be Auct's voice.

"Hello," came a third, Paisot's voice.

"What's all this then?" said a woman's voice from the direction of the fireplace. It was Professor Sinistra.

They were all grinning at them, quite madly, Harry thought.

Harry straightened up and opened his eyes. He looked over at his best mate. Ron seemed to have recovered from the initial shock and was now glancing at each teacher in turn with a bemused look on his face. Hermione, conversely, had a frown on her face. She appeared to be taken aback.

"I'm sorry?" she said to the teachers in the Staff Room.

"We're sure you are. Edmund, close the door, would you?" smirked Auct.

Professor Paisot obliged his colleague and the teachers all stared at the students, who in turn, stared back.

"This is bloody weird," muttered Ron.

"You don't know the half of it, Mr. Weasley," Paisot winked at them as he moved to sit on the settee next to Madame Pince.

Harry again traded surprised looks with his friends. Ron's statement didn't begin to cover the half of it, as Paisot had said. Harry could see Hermione's eyes widen as her mouth opened and closed a few times. She was working her way toward asking a question and Harry knew from experience that it was a question that Hermione thought she might get into trouble asking.

But, being Hermione, there was fairly no stopping her curiosity.

"How did you know that we were here?" she finally managed. Hermione surveyed the Staff Room and shook her head. "How could you have seen us…?" As she looked around, she glanced down at the floor and then stopped. Harry followed her gaze.

Lilasmorte had one foot on the left edge of the now evident Invisibility Cloak and Auct a foot on the right edge.

"But…" she began. She stopped and frowned as she looked at Professor Lilasmorte. Harry noticed Professor Auct reached a hand out to Lilasmorte to touch her on the arm. She immediately pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and grimaced slightly. In a moment, she appeared to be fine.

Harry blinked and then met Lilasmorte's eyes. "You saw us. You and Professor Auct." He nodded in the direction of the Defence Against The Dark Arts instructor. "You both saw us. You looked right at me, didn't you? You can see through the cloak."

Professor Auct shrugged elegantly and stepped off of the item in question. As Lilasmorte backed away, he knelt down and gathered the cloak into his arms. "It's been quite a while since I've seen this in action," he said quietly, with a slight smile on his face. "But, mind you, back then I couldn't rightly see it." He handed the bundle over to Harry. "And even now I can't rightly see it. I can only perceive just enough of a differentiation in the refraction of the ambient light to know that someone or something is cloaked."

Hermione nodded in appreciation, an excited smile spreading onto her features, as she understood. "The heat from the fireplace and the angle of the sunlight would have combined to help someone with enhanced or enchanted eye sight to see the difference between occupied and unoccupied space."

"Miss Granger, might I restate Professor Lupin's assertion that you are the brightest witch of your age," Professor Paisot told her with a smile.

Harry could have sworn that she almost blushed at that. First Finnegan being all swotty, and now Paisot. Right. You two are on my list. Whatever in the hell I mean by that.

"So that explains why the Headmaster was able to see us in Hagrid's hut," Ron murmured to him. Harry frowned as he attempted to remember. "We were in front of the fireplace, right? Dumbledore looked dead at us. That must have been how he was able to see us, Hagrid's fire."

"That's likely part of it," Auct interrupted. He was still smirking at them.

That's almost as bloody annoying as bloody Lockhart. Blow me; I'm starting to sound like Ron now.

There was a polite cough and then, "Shall we tell them what's happened?" Paisot had asked the question.

Harry and his friends boggled at one another. "You mean you're not going to expel us?" exclaimed Ron, taking a step forward. Hermione promptly elbowed him in the soft of his stomach. "Bloody hell! Erm, sorry, professors."

"It's quite all right." Professor Lilasmorte crossed in front of the fire to stand against the far wall, next to the massive drapery, in the shadow. "I don't think that we're going to expel you." She paused and when no one contradicted her, she continued. "Not for this, at any rate. But there would be a bit of a trade in order. And I do think that we should tell you what has happened." She nodded at Auct.

He gestured to the unoccupied chairs and the vacant end of the settee. "The three of you ought to sit down."

Ron and Hermione moved to comply, but Harry didn't shift. He didn't feel like sitting. Being asked to sit reminded him of…it made him feel as though he were being mollycoddled, so he didn't move. "I'll stand," he said, a trace of a frown on his brow.

Hermione took her hand and struck him across his forearm, hard. She hit him with enough force for the sound to carry across the Staff Room. "You'll sit down."

"Ow! Hermione!" She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to the settee where she took up position next to him. He nearly dropped the cloak, but she didn't let go of his wrist. "That hurts," he fumed.

"That's what you get for being a prat," she shot back.

"I wasn't being a prat, I was just fine standing."

"You were being a stoic, stubborn, standing prat, then."

"And you're both being bloody obnoxious; d'you mind?"

Harry and Hermione glared at Ron angrily. "We are not…" they began in unison, and then their protests trailed off into silence as they remembered where they were.

"Sorry," they also said in unison. Hermione released Harry's wrist and hunched down in her seat, and clasped her hands together.

Harry felt a sense of disappointment as she let go of him. He folded his arms across his robes and rested them on top of the cloak in his lap.

Professor Lilasmorte moved from her spot by the curtains and stood to one side of the hearth. "I'll spare you the usual obfuscation and get right to it. Something's happened in London," she stated softly. "Word's come from Jeremy…my cousin…about it. Part of Kensington is gone. It happened early this morning."

"Gone," repeated Pince. She stared up at Professor Lilasmorte, unblinking.

"Destroyed," added Professor Auct. He moved to flank Lilasmorte's position at the fireside.

For a moment, no one moved nor said a word.

Harry had heard of a type of silence that descended upon a group or even a room of people. The type of silence that blanketed everything, that suppressed all sound, the kind of silence where one could hear a pin drop. It was this kind of silence that followed the information of part of Kensington being gone. The only sound in the Staff Room was the occasional crackle from the fire, with a rustle from the logs as they settled and shifted.

At length, someone spoke. "What…" Ron's voice faded away. He cleared his throat and began again. "What part of Kensington? I mean, I don't really know London, but…"

"The area is between Queen's Gate to the East, Gloucester Road to the West, Cromwell Road to the North, and Brompton Road to the South," Lilasmorte told him.

Harry supposed her to be astonishingly calm in light of how devastating the news sounded to be.

Pince gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. Sinistra leaned forward in her chair and placed her head in her hands. "That's…that's…oh, great Morgana…how…?"

Hermione gave Harry an anxious look, one that seemed to cut right through him. Her face was drained and her eyes wide and bright. Hermione appeared to be on the verge of tears. She knew London better than he did; judging by her reaction, she knew exactly what area Professor Lilasmorte had referred to. Though greatly restricted in his travels while living with the Dursleys, Harry still knew enough to recognise that the area that had been destroyed was substantial, never mind the number of people in that area... "What happened?" he asked, his voice quiet and even despite his churning stomach.

"They're not certain how it happened, not right now, but…it's much like the events of 16 years ago," Paisot answered, skimming over the contents of the scroll delivered earlier. "Buildings are destroyed, most completely razed to nothing more than smouldering rubble. There's…essentially a pit where…it's basically a hole in the ground now." Professor Paisot appeared to swallow with some difficulty and he rolled the scroll up tightly.

There was a period of silence in the Staff Room. Harry stared at the fire burning in the hearth. Well, then. More dead. Because of me. That seems to be my true talent. Death. Voldemort and murder and death and destruction. It's followed me everywhere. Now it's spread like some cancer, reaching beyond me, spreading from the Wizarding world into the Muggle world. It wasn't enough to take my mother, my father. It wasn't enough to take my godfather. Not nearly enough to take…he's now taken several blocks of London. Because of me. Because I was born. He sucked in a breath and asked the question because he simply had to. "Was it…?"

"Yes." Professor Auct sighed and nodded. "It was the Death Eaters."

"How do you know?" asked Ron, his voice flat. He too appeared to be on the verge of tears. Harry knew how his best mate felt; it was almost impossible to comprehend, such a massive and sudden loss, in a heavily populated part of Muggle London.

"The Dark Mark…?" whispered Hermione.

It was Professor Lilasmorte who answered. "Yes. It was still hovering in the air after it happened." Her voice was low and gentle. "My cousin wasn't called to the scene, but he could see it quite plainly on his way to work."

This caught Harry's attention. "Your cousin. What does he do, Professor Lilasmorte?"

She smiled at him, an odd smile similar to the one she'd given him on the covered bridge. "Jeremy is an Auror, Mr. Potter."

Hermione sucked in a breath and said, "Oh, my God, your owl flew through all of that?" It finally occurred to her, it finally occurred to Harry, that the destruction in Kensington was the reason why its feathers were singed and dirty with soot and ash.

"Yes, I imagine that he did fly through the area to get here."

"What is the Ministry saying about this?" asked a quiet voice. It was Professor Paisot. He was staring at the fire, his fingertips on his chin. His face was most serious and Harry thought he saw a gleam of…something in his eyes. Anger. Frustration. Recollection. Harry didn't know Professor Paisot to venture a guess.

At that, Professors Auct and Lilasmorte let out sharp laughs. Harry reckoned that their opinion of the bureaucracy of the Ministry was the same as his. "The Ministry of Magic, in conjunction with 10 Downing Street, is calling this a terrorist attack," Auct explained, with what Harry considered to be more than a touch of sarcasm in his delivery.

Professor Sinistra glanced up at that. "They are bloody out of their minds," she exclaimed. "Who is going to believe that?"

"Indeed, they are out of their minds, if they think that they can pass off magical damage of that scope off as a simple terrorist attack! Who are they blaming for this? Wait, let me guess, the IRA?" snapped Paisot.

"That would be my supposition, but I won't know anything with certainty until I receive orders from the Department," replied Auct.

Harry knew from previous experience, and from the fact that the professor was an active Auror, that Auct was referring to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Jeremy might know something. He's a bit on the outs from the sounds of it, but I hope to know something this evening, when Ashengrace returns," Lilasmorte added. "If nothing else Jeremy might be able to get some information from Aunt Lavina's sources."

"What are we going to do in the meantime?" enquired Madame Pince, a look of unease on her face.

Harry, Hermione and Ron all blinked at one another. It was as though they were back under the Invisibility Cloak. In their discussion, the teachers had forgotten about them, or so it seemed.

Paisot was shaking his head. "The Ministry doesn't have enough staff to perform the work necessary to contain this, and neither does St. Mungo's," he sighed loudly.

"Which makes the public announcement calling this a terrorist act all the more plausible," sighed Madame Pince as she rubbed her forehead.

"We'll know more later," Auct told them. "If not from the Headmaster, than directly from the Ministry. I'll keep you apprised."

"I'm keeping you to your word, Auct." Sinistra then put a question to Professor Lilasmorte. "Did Jeremy mention if there are any survivors?"

She shook her head in a negative. "Jeremy didn't seem to think that there were, based on what he saw, but the Muggle authorities were conducting searches of the area. They have their canine units working the rubble in what they call SAR - Search and Rescue. But I am afraid it will be something more of Search and Recovery…" She took in a breath and then continued. "Jeremy wrote that once the Mark had dissipated, he made his way to the area on foot and saw the damage first hand. There were…" She stopped and gazed at each of the students in turn. Lilasmorte paused for the longest amount of time when she looked at Harry. She gave him a look similar to the one earlier in the morning, after class. A mixture of sadness and what he thought was pity. She finally turned away. "The Muggles will either have to cremate or have closed-casket ceremonies," Lilasmorte said at length.

"That means…oh Morgana," whispered Professor Sinistra. "There's just…there's nothing…?"

"He wrote that they were finding…for blocks around they were finding…bits…" Paisot stopped himself. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "This is why I retired," Harry heard him mumble. "This is why I bloody retired."

"It's like what happened Benjy Fenwick," Auct uttered in a hollow voice. "By Merlin, it's like what they did with poor Benjy Fenwick."

Harry knew the name of Benjy Fenwick. He couldn't immediately place why, but he was certain that he had heard the name before, but not in some time.

"But they did this with thousands of people, Petr," Madame Pince said. "Thousands. What kind of power does that take?"

Another silence fell over the Staff Room, a silence borne of shock and horror and the unfathomable destruction that had occurred that morning in the midst of what should have been inviolate territory.

Finally, it was Auct who broke the still. "There was something else. Some sort of…poem? Melora?"

As Professor Paisot still held the scroll, she recited the words from memory. "In the cruxshadows of the remains / Erased, foul Mudblood stains / Purified by our Lord's Dark Mark / Take heed, impure, take hark."

"Well, isn't that bloody precious," the Ancient Runes professor scowled.

"It certainly isn't lacking in Voldemort's usual charm," breathed Auct. He gave what Harry considered to be a meaningful look to the Advanced Muggle Studies professor.

As if on cue, Professor Lilasmorte stepped forward and moved to sit on the corner of the coffee table, positioning herself between Ron in the wing chair and Harry and Hermione on the settee. "I'm not sure what, if anything, the Headmaster will tell the students about this, so I must ask you to please keep this information to yourselves for now. Members…of the staff seem to already know that something happened in London, at least, and I am certain that such news will spread. The owl posts are likely being restricted. Did you notice how there were no deliveries this morning, not even of the Daily Prophet or the Quibbler?" Harry was ashamed to realise that he hadn't noticed the lack of owls in the Great Hall. He could tell from the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces that they were embarrassed as well, Hermione especially. He could tell from the flush in Hermione's cheeks that she was angry with herself as well. "I am certain that Ashengrace came here by a most unusual routing in order to reach Hogwarts outside of the restrictions," she continued. "Please, keep this information to yourselves for a little while."

Harry drew in a long, shuddering breath and said, "This is the trade you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes." She titled her head at him slightly. "The barter is your silence, for now, in exchange for our silence on your little sojourn into the Staff Room." She exhaled forcefully and regarded each of the students in turn. "This is a difficult thing to ask, I know, but it is supremely important. It's not much in the way of a fair trade, but it's the best that can be offered right now. Hopefully, you will not have to be bound in silence for long, but we can't make any guarantees."

"Then why tell us, Professor?" asked Hermione. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were slightly pursed. Harry recognised it as her determined and serious expression. "If we can't say anything, why tell us? Why not dismiss us from the Staff Room and discuss what happened to Kensington in private?" She arched an eyebrow as she awaited a response. Harry was surprised. It was the most…Hermione that Hermione had sounded in Professor Lilasmorte's presence.

He saw a smirk creep onto the professor's face. "Well questioned, Miss Granger. I suppose that we…have a bit of a different view of what the Head Girl and the Prefects should know."

Hermione lifted her chin in the air slightly. "Headmaster Dumbledore obviously disagrees with your views as he's kept this information secret all morning."

At this point, Professor Auct rejoined the conversation. "With due respect to Headmaster Dumbledore, it's my experienced opinion as an Auror and your Defence Against The Dark Arts instructor that the founding members of 'Dumbledore's Army' know of any and all Death Eater attacks so that you may plan accordingly."

"Dumbledore's Army doesn't exist," responded Harry angrily. "It was disbanded last year." The subject was still quite raw to him, and still tender to Hermione and even Ron as well, he judged by their reactions.

Auct merely smiled at him. "We'll speak more on this after class, Mr. Potter. For now, you three have duties to complete and charges to take care of, in addition to attending Advanced Transfigurations. You should be on your way."

The trio nodded mutely and rose from their seats. They made their way to the Staff Room door. Ron opened it a crack, checked to see if anyone was and stepped through. Harry followed, but Hermione paused in the doorway. She turned round and slightly tilted her head to one side, a mannerism that Harry recognised immediately. "Professor Lilasmorte?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Granger?'

"Professor…how did you know where we were standing? How did you know where to step in order to pull the Invisibility Cloak off?"

Harry thought he detected a challenge in Hermione's tone.

"Luck, mostly. Mr. Potter has spilled some pumpkin juice on himself. I took my cues from his mishap and Professor Auct's lead." Her voice sounded somewhat amused to Harry. He felt frustrated at that. Professor Lilasmorte was perplexing him again. Everything about her was damnably off putting.

Hermione mutely indicated her understanding and followed Harry and Ron into the corridor. Ron closed the door behind them and they regarded one another in resignation.

They didn't speak.

There was no need to.

There was nothing, really, to possibly say.

They were losing. It was possible that they had lost the war but their side was ignoring the prospect. Or were ignoring the inevitable. City blocks had been destroyed. Annihilated. How in the hell were they going to stop a force that powerful?

The information, compounded by the strange behaviour of the Hogwarts' staff, was still sinking in. Harry silently handed the Invisibility Cloak to Ron, who put it back into his satchel. Ron exhaled noisily and set out down the hall. Hermione began to follow, but Harry reached a hand out for her. He clasped her by her upper arm, staying her. She gave him a look of surprise and concern. Harry just shook his head, and then freed her so that he could take her hand in his. Hermione glanced down at their clasped hands. Her features softened and she gave him a faint smile and his hand a reassuring squeeze. Harry smiled at her in return, grateful and regretful that she had been there with him when he heard the news about Kensington. Together they wordlessly proceeded back to the Great Hall. There was nothing more for him, Hermione, or Ron to do but regain their composure and take the only action available to them as Dumbledore's Army was no more: collect their First Year charges and then proceeded to class.