The Brothers of War

elfandtroll

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 19/03/2005
Last Updated: 30/07/2005
Status: in_progress

As 6th year dawns, Harry finds his life is more intertwined with those around him than he knew and that friendship and bravery are indeed what bring together the Brothers of War.

Chapters

1. Prologue - Boredom and Memories

2. Ruddy Owls and Reflections

3. The Weasleys

4. The Party

5. The Trial

6. Umbridge

7. It's Good to be Home

8. The Message Within

9. What a Day

10. THRIBT

11. The Red Headed Troll

12. A Day of Change

13. Aftermath

14. The-Boy-Who-Bit-My-Head-Off

15. Hope

16. Friends

17. The Abyss

18. Help From an Unexpected Source

19. Thoughts of Home

20. The Aftermath

21. Trial by Fire

1. Prologue - Boredom and Memories

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all rights to the Harry Potter Universe. If I did, I wouldn’t be worrying about paying bills…

Prologue: Boredom and Memories

Number 4 Privet Drive looked like your typical household: the grass was green, the hedges trimmed, and everyone inside asleep.

Except for one.

Sitting in the smallest room, staring morosely at the ceiling, was a black-haired, bespectacled boy of about 15. Soon to been sixteen, actually.

Harry Potter may have seemed like an average teenager, but nothing could be further from the truth. For not only was Harry Potter a boy, but also a wizard.

An unhappy wizard, at the moment.

"…Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two." Harry sighed, and went to gather the deck of cards that now lay in the bottom of the wastebasket.

He was bored. Being stuck at the Dursleys for a countless number of weeks was enough to drive anyone crazy. Even potions homework would be better. There was nothing to do, and no one to talk to. Harry was left alone with his thoughts, for perhaps the first time in years.

Harry got up and wandered over to the window. It was a cloudy night, which matched Harry’s mood. Ever since the death of his godfather, Harry wanted nothing to do with other people. He dutifully wrote a letter to the Order every three days, but only so they would leave him alone.

A pile of letters from his friends lay in his desk, asking if he was okay, and saying they were sorry, saying it wasn’t his fault. He appreciated their efforts, but wished they would stop. He didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened in the Department of Mysteries. No matter what they said, it was his fault. If it hadn’t been for him, Sirius wouldn’t have gone to the Department of Mysteries, and he would still be alive.

* FLASHBACK *

It seemed it took Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch…

* END FLASHBACK *

Feeling the familiar lump in his throat, he closed his eyes and pushed the memories away. As he climbed into bed, he prayed for a night of sleep not haunted by dreams, and that somehow, things would start looking better.

2. Ruddy Owls and Reflections

J.K. Rowling owns all of Harry Potter. We’re glad she doesn’t mind sharing.

Chapter One: Ruddy Owls and Reflections

"Boy! Get down here and make our breakfast!"

With a yawn, Harry rolled his eyes and started down the stairs. "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

His uncle glared at him when he entered, but didn’t say anything. He gathered the family’s breakfast foods and quickly started cooking. Within minutes, he was done, and breakfast was on the table. Dudley got the largest portion, of course, despite the "diet" he was on.

Harry was stuck with a piece of dry toast and the smallest egg. Harry rolled his eyes as Dudley quickly devoured his meal and then glanced hungrily at Harry’s. His appetite suddenly gone, Harry pushed his plate towards Dudley and turned to flee back to the quiet of his room.

"Not so fast, boy," his uncle’s voice rang out.

Harry paused and turned to his uncle.

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" he asked.

His uncle’s face broke into a sneer as he held out a long list. "You’re not going back up to that room of yours until you finish your chores." he answered.

Harry groaned to himself as he took the paper and skimmed it. Water the plants, cut the grass, and vacuum the sitting room were among the multitude of chores on the list. Vernon glared at him, as if daring him to say something. Harry simply nodded and walked outside, intending to start on the chores. Before he reached the door, however, a handsome brown owl swooped into the kitchen and dropped a parchment on the table.

The vein in Vernon’s neck began to pulse.

"WHAT IS THAT RUDDY OWL DOING IN MY HOUSE?" he bellowed. "I’LL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OF YOUR CREATURES IN MY HOUSE!"

Harry quickly grabbed the letter, his heart pounding faster as he saw the Ministry seal on the front of the envelope. Tearing it open, his uncle still bellowing in outrage, he read the contents.

Dear Mr. Potter,

You are hereby summoned to appear at the hearing for one Ms. Dolores Umbridge on the 20th of August. You and several others are being called to provide testimony against the defendant. The hearing will be held at the Ministry of Magic under the jurisdiction of the Wizengamot. You are asked to appear at 10 a.m. on the aforementioned day.

Yours sincerely,

Cornelius Fudge,

Minister of Magic

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. Umbridge had been arrested? And he was going to get to testify against the toad? A small smile spread onto his face. This was the first piece of good news he had heard all summer.

Suddenly, another owl swooped in and collapsed on the table. It was Errol, the Weasley’s ancient owl.

" FOR GOD’S SAKE!!! ENOUGH BLOODY OWLS!!! I’LL NOT TOLERATE THIS, BOY!!" Vernon roared.

Harry rushed to fill a small dish with water for Errol to drink from. He then grabbed the parchment and read.

Hey Harry!!

Did you hear about Umbridge? The old toad’s been arrested by the Ministry!! I guess some people found out about her trying to curse you and all that stuff, and she used a Blood Quill on one student in detention. I think it was Lee Jordan.

With a grim smile, Harry glanced at the white scarring on his hand. Lee wasn’t the only one terrorized by Umbridge. He turned back to the letter.

So, the lot of us have been called to testify. I think it’s you, me, Lee, and a few other students. Oh, and McGonagall! She’s testifying about the Stunner attack!! Makes me almost feel sorry for Umbridge, having to face McGonagall’s temper (only almost, though)!

Anyways, since you have to come to the Ministry anyway, Dad says that you can just stay with us the rest of the summer! We’re coming to get you on Monday, so you can stay with us before the trial and until school starts.

Harry’s thoughts spun. He was thrilled to be getting away from the Dursleys, but he wasn’t sure he was up to being around the cheery Weasley family. Not in the mood he was in.

Write back to tell me if is okay with the Muggles! Alhough, even if it isn’t we’re still coming. Mum’s been worried sick about you, fretting about "poor Harry being stuck with those dreadful Muggles". Got to say mate, I can’t say I blame her. Bloody Muggles….

Harry grinned in spite of himself. He could always count on Mrs. Weasley to worry and fret over him.

So, I’ll see you Monday, mate. We’re coming around 9:00 a.m., so be ready!

Ron

Harry folded the letter and stuck it in the pocket of his baggy pants. He turned to his uncle, who was still glaring at him. He looked at the dangerously throbbing vein again, and decided to withhold the information of the Weasley’s visit until as late as possible. Like when the Weasley’s had already arrived, perhaps.

He smiled weakly at his uncle. "I’ll… just go and do my chores now, Uncle Vernon."

His uncle glared menacingly. "You do that, boy."

Harry hurried out, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached the safety of the outdoors. He could hear his uncle stomping around the house, muttering about "bloody freaks who keep sending bloody owls".

He wandered over and sat on the curb, reading the letter again. He was torn between wanting to avoid contact with all his friends, and between getting as far away from the Dursleys as possible. He knew his friends were worried about him, and would bombard him with questions as soon as he arrived. They thought he blamed himself for what happened at the Ministry. Not that they were wrong in their assumption, but he didn’t want to think about what had happened, much less talk about it.

"Oh well. Its not like I really have a choice in the matter," Harry muttered to himself, a spark of irritation igniting in him. He never had a choice in anything, not really. No one ever let him have a say in anything, no one ever told him anything.

His mind drifted to the end of his fifth year and his conversation with Dumbledore. Well, not so much a conversation as a one-sided screaming match.

Harry felt a twinge of guilt at the way he had treated the older wizard. It wasn’t really Dumbledore’s fault; he had just done what he thought was best. That didn’t mean Harry was happy with his headmaster, but he wasn’t as blinded by anger as he had been last year.

He just wished people would deign to tell him some things once in a while. It was, after all, he who had to defeat Voldemort. He, and only he.

Now Harry’s thoughts turned to the prophecy…

"AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…"

The prophecy weighed heavily on Harry’s mind. He had always known, in some part of him, that he would be the one who had to defeat Voldemort. Why else would the madman have gone after him so many times? But to have it confirmed, and to be told he would either become a murderer, or be murdered, was a thought that followed him around, looming over his shoulder

He idly picked a few stray blades of grass from the cracks in the sidewalk. He glanced around, wondering who his "babysitter" was. Harry knew that the Order was watching him. He never saw them, but he knew they were there. He hoped if they could see him, they thought he was miserable. Because he was.

"Best get on with it," he thought as he prepared himself to tackle the list of chores. Glancing back into the house, he saw his uncle glaring at him through the window. Hoping to prevent his uncle’s wrath, Harry ran over to the shed where the gardening tools were kept. He pulled out the hedge clippers, and got to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Several very long and boring hours later, an exhausted Harry collapsed in his room, having finished the chores he’d been given. He’d run upstairs before his uncle could give him another list of wretched things to do.

He was reminded of something when he heard paper crumpling. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Ron’s letter.

"I forgot I put it there…" he murmured. "Guess I should write back…"

He pushed himself off his well-worn comforter and sat at his battered desk.

Ron-

Sounds great!! Staying with you wins hands down over staying with the Dursleys)… of course, nearly everything beats staying with the Dusley!

Harry chewed the end of his quill before writing the next line.

The Muggles say I can come. Just, er, don’t Floo here again; remember last time?

It wasn’t really true: he hadn’t asked the Dursley’s if he could go, but… he’d deal with that when he had to. He continued writing.

Can’t wait to see you, and I’m guessing Hermione will be there too? Tell everyone hi from me, and I’ll see you Monday!!

Harry

Satisfied that he sounded appropriately cheerful, he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and dipped his quill into his ink well. He figured that while he was at it, he should write a letter to Hermione as well.

Dear Hermione,

Just got a letter from Ron, and it turns out I’m going to be staying at the Weasley’s the rest of the summer. Are you coming too? Hope you are, it wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t there to nag us about doing our homework (which by the way, I’ve almost finished).

Hope to see you soon!

Harry

After reading over both letters, he folded them and walked over to Hedwig’s cage.

"I need you to take this to Ron’s, girl. And this one to Hermione."

Hedwig gave an enthusiastic hoot. He tied the rolled-up parchments to her leg, and with an affectionate nip of his finger, the owl flew off.

Harry could only contemplate, What have I gotten myself into?

3. The Weasleys

Everything in the Harry Potter Universe is owned and operated by J. K. Rowling and is available in stores everywhere.

Chapter Two: The Weasley’s

As he lay awake in his bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, Harry could just hear Hermione nagging him:; "Harry, it’s important that you get enough sleep. . You’re just being stubborn and not getting the proper amount!" or Iif he simply couldn’t sleep, he "should at least be doing something productive… like your lessons."

Sleep, it seemed, was something that Harry was getting rather good at doing without. . Sirius falling through the Veil,; a flash ofing green light and then Quadric’s Cedric’s cold, dead eyes staring up at him,; these were things all too familiar in his dreams these days. . Snape’s Occlumency lessons may have dulled Voldemort’s influence, but they weren’t helping him control his nightmares in the least. .

He sighed as he threw his covers off and stared out the window at the cold, dark sky. . He knew there would be no falling back asleep, not tonight. .

Very quietly, Harry tiptoed across the floor and removed his trunk from the closet. . Creeping slowlyHe then crept towards the loose floorboard, he lifted it, and quietly placed it to the side. . This was Harry’s hiding place. . The place where he stored everything he didn’t want the Dursleys to know about. . Sometimes he wished he could hide there himself; of course, if wishes came true, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. . He would much rather have spent his summer at the Burrow with Ron, or even at 12 Grimmauld Place with Remus. .

Then again, when did Harry ever get what he wanted?

Dumbledore had been adamant that he must stay at the Dursleys for some part of

the summer, otherwise the wards that protected him here would fade. . Harry needed somewhere he could be safe. . He had never considered the Dursleys the safest place in the world, but his feelings weren’t what mattered. . They never were.

Harry sighed to himselfgrimaced as he reached in, and lifted the floorboard’s contents out. . He realized how few things of meaning he had in his life. His father’s Invisibility Cloak that he had received from Dumbledore and his the family album he had received from Hagrid were among the items placed carefully in his trunk. .

Working slowly and quietlyin a slow, careful manner, Harry quickly gathered the the other few possesionspossessions he owned and stored them in the trunk. . Every so often, he stopped to listen tdo the dull roar of Vernon’s snoring, confirming he wasere still asleep. .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as Harry turned and scanned the contents of his now-packed trunk, checking to make sure he had everything he needed for the school year. . One thing he did not want to happen was to arrive at the Burrow only to find he had left his wand at the Dursley’s. .

Satisfied, he carefully shut his trunk and locked it. . He turned to face Hedwig, who hooted softly, ruffling her coat. . He stroked her feathers and murmured quietly, "I’m going to the Burrow today, Hedwig. . Fly ahead and meet me there, okay?"

Hedwig hooted again and bobbed her head. . He opened her cage, and the snowy owl hopped out. and With an affectionate nip of Harry’s fingers, she flew off. .

By then, Harry could hear the Dursleys beginning to stir. . Soon, Vernon would be bellowing for his breakfast. . Happy at the prospect of mornings without having to cook another breakfast, he practically leapt down the stairs. .

Going to the refrigerator, he pulled out the ingredients for breakfast. . "Let’s see," muttered Harry, "Eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, potatoes, biscuits, milk, tea, orange juice… and a grapefruit for Dudley." He grinned to himself. . This is going to be a grand final breakfast, he thought.

Like a parade of slugs filing out of a garden, the Dursleys performed their morning death march into the kitchen. . "Boy! Where’s my break-" yelled Vernon as he began to open the kitchen door. . But he stopped short, his jaw dropping slightly, when he noticed the feast that awaited him already upon the table, his jaw dropping slightly. . Recovering quickly, he turned towards Harry.

"Right! As well as it should be," pronounced Vernon. . "About time you learned to get your lazy carcass up at a reasonable hour. . Too right it is, we shouldn’t have to drag you out every morning to get you to earn your keep here! Remember boy, it is only by your Aunt’s kindness that you are still here and not at an orphanage where you rightly belong." Vernon rambled on.

Harry had heard the same proclamation every day of his life with the Dursleys. . He knew it was wasted breath to remind his uncle that it was HE that who woke each morning before them, HE that who took showers at night in order for them to be first at it in the morning, and HE that who cooked the breakfast. . No, his only thought was that this would be his last day here.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." said Harry in a much too agreeable voice. . "Big plans for today?" he asked, "Off and about then are we?"

"Why would you want to know…?" inquired Vernon with a scowl. . on his face. "Planning something are you? Waiting for us to leave so you can contact your little friends are you!! To…to tell them lies about us!".

Now I’ve gone and done it, Harry thought. . But Vernon wasn’t done, "We’ve done nothing but treat you as a member of ouryou family… taken food from our mouths to feed you… given you the clothes off of Dudley’s back! How dare you tell liescontact to those… those… Freaks!"

"Calm yourself Vernon," Petunia said. . "I’ve made sure that he has sent the notes I’ve dictated to to… those… people… every three days. . Just as they demanded. . We have kept up our end of the agreement," she said. "I just don’t know if… those people… they can be trusted to keep theirs.".

At that point Harry was saved from further interrogation by the sweet shrill ring of the telephone. . As Dudley luimbered over to answer it, Harry quietly prayed that it was for his uncle, as Vernon had built up quite a head of steam and Harry hoped this would distract him.

"Well, who is it for Dudleykins?" inquired Petunia. .

"It…it…it’s for the freak! Somebody named Manger or Danger," responded a shocked Dudley. .

Oh no, thought Harry, this is really going to add fuel to Vernon’s already stoked tinderbox.

"WH- WH- WHAT!" stammered Vernon. . "Since when did any of them learn to use a telephone? I’ve told you a thousand times not to have those… those…freaks call this house! Isn’t it enough that I tolerate the bloody owl, coming and going at all hours?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. . I’ll be sure to remind them of that." muttered Harry. . Harry could only think of one name that sounded like Danger, and that was…

"Hello? Hermione?" asked Harry quietly.

"Harry! I’m sooo sorry. . I’ve gone and gotten you into trouble again," said Hermione. . "I was hoping that I might have a chance at you answering, but, well anyway, I just wanted to see if you were ready for us to pick you up?"

Harry started to ask "Er…Why? Are you on your…" but heard Hermione shout "RON, NO!"

DING DONG

"Hermione, that wouldn’t have just been Ron ringing my doorbell, would it?" asked a very nervous Harry.

"Oh, I’m so sorry Harry!" Said Hermione fretfully. . "We thought it best for all if we just stayed outside until you were ready. . My father loaned me his cell phone so we could call, but Mr. . Weasley had been pressing all of the buttons, and then I couldn’t get it to work, and then I got it to work, and then…Oh Harry, I’m so sorry! But, Harry, please tell me you are ready, aren’t you?"

By this time, Vernon had made his way to the front door with a welcoming smile; opened it, turned three shades of violet, and promptly slammed it shut again. . "WHAT ARE THEY DOING OUTSIDE OF MY HOUSE, BOY!?" roared Vernon.

"Well, you see, they’ve come to pick me up…" started Harry, but Vernon’s tinderbox was now fully stoked and the train had left the station.

"P-P-PICK YOU UP! WHAT, ARE WE A BLOODY TROLLEY STOP NOW! SEND THEM AWAY BOY, BEFORE THE NEIGHBORS SEE THEM! I’LL NOT HAVE THE LIKES OF THEM IN T MY HOME!!" Vernon screamedbellowed, now a quite loively shade of redred.

But before Harry could say anything, the door opened and in sauntered Mr. . Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and the twins: George and Fred. . To say this was akin to the opening of Pandora’s Box would be an understatement, as four things immediately occurred. . Hermione squealed and enveloped Harry in a bear hug; while Ron pounded on his back; Dudley bolted for the kitchen at first sight of the twins; and Vernon turned quite a vibrant shade of crimson.

"Good morning, Mr. . and Mrs. . Dursley!" Mr. . Weasley said cheerfully. . "Hope I haven’t disturbed you at all?"

Vernon just spluttered. .

"How’re you doing, Harry?" George (or at least he thought it was George, it could have been Fred) asked.

"Oh, I’m all right. . How’s the joke shop doing?"

The twins grinned. . "Wonderfully! We may be bigger than Zonko’s soon!"

The twins turned to Petunia.

"Would it be all right if we got a drink of water? We’re a bit parched."

Petunia nodded wordlessly, and the twins trotted towards the kitchen. . Harry wasn’t reassured by the mischievous glint in their eyes. . Somehow, he felt he should follow and keep and eye on them, but could only grin as he was almost bowled over by Dudley fleeing the kitchen.

"Harry? Things upstairs?" called Ron. . "Yeah, I’ll help you get them." replied Harry in a somber tone. . "Ok, mate. . It’s bloody good to see you Harry! Any problems with Dudlykins… you never said anything in your letters… didn’t really sound like you either mate… are you sure you’re ok? Bloody hell Harry, you look awful! That’s why we left mum at home. . Afraid she would--"

"I’m fine!" snapped Harry. . Immediately regretful, Harry added "Let’s just get this downstairs so we can leave."

"Right, Harry. . Sorry to badger you like that. . It’s just… it’s good to see you again mate, that’s all." said Ron in a quiet voice.

Harry felt bad now. . He hadn’t needed to snap at Ron like that. . "Sorry Ron. . I guess I’m just tense. . You see, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell the Dursley’s that you were coming. . I kept telling myself that I would wait until the right moment… the next thing I know you’re here."

"It’s all right Harry. . The sooner we get you from here, the better." replied Ron as he reached over and grabbed one end of the trunk. . Harry looked Ron in the eye as he reached for the other trunk handle and said, "Good to see you too, mate." Harry grinned at his friend and they walked downstairs. .

The sight that met them at the bottom of the stairs was one Harry wanted to fix in his memory forever. . Mr. . Weasley was struggling to hold Hermione back as she brandished her wand threateningly at the Dursley’s, who cowered fearfully at the raging witch.

"How dare you treat Harry like that?" she said furiously. . ‘You’re what give Muggles a bad name! Harry’s leaving for the summer and all you can do is yell at him? You ought to be ashamed! He’s your own flesh and blood, your nephew, and all you can do is treat him like dirt!" Hermione’s face was red and her eyes flashed. . She shook off Mr. . Weasley’s arm. . "I won’t hex them… they’re not worth getting called to the Ministry."

Reluctantly, as Mr. . Weasley released Hermione’s arm, she sent one final glare towards the Dursley’s then ran over to Harry.

"Oh Harry, are you all right? I’ve been so worried about you! You didn’t answer any of my letters or--"

Harry held up a hand to still the onslaught of words. . ‘I’m fine, Hermione. . And I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your letters, I just… didn’t feel much like writing."

Hermione nodded understandingly. . Just then, the twins came walking out, grinning madly. . Mr. . Weasley glanced suspiciously at them, but didn’t say anything. . Dudley bolted for the kitchen, making the twins grin even wider.

Harry glanced sideways at the twins. . "What did you do?" he said exasperatedly, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. .

Fred put on an injured air. . "What, us? Do anything? Why, that’s unheard of! We’d never do anything, isn’t that right, George?"

George nodded vigorously. . "We’re completely innocent! I don’t know why everyone always thinks we’re up to something!"

Hermione said sarcastically, "Oh, I don’t know. . Maybe because you always are?"

The twins grinned mischievously. . Harry glanced at Ron. . "Why am I not reassured?" Ron laughed. .

Just then, a crash was heard from inside the kitchen. . The twins’ grin widened as they started edging towards the door. . Mr. . Weasley frowned suspiciously at them as he walked quickly towards the kitchen door. . Just as he opened it, a large, fat pig came running out, squealing shrilly. .

Mr. . Weasley turned to stare disbelievingly at the twins. . "You didn’t…"

Fred and George grinned unabashedly as they nodded. . "It’ll wear off in a few hours."

Arthur quickly glanced at the Dursley’s, who were staring horrified at the pig. . Vernon slowly turned, the vein in his head now pulsing at a dangerous level.

"HOW DARE YOU! How dare you come into my house uninvited and do this… this… to my son!!" he slowly advanced on Mr. . Weasley, who put his hands up defensively. .

"I’m terribly sorry, Mr. . Dursley. . Rest assured, my sons will be severely punished--"

"DAD!" The twins exclaimed, horrified. . One glare from Mr. . Weasley silenced their protests. . Grinning at Harry, they darted out the door, yelling over their shoulders, "We’ll just be going now!" Sighing, Mr. . Weasley continued.

"As I said, they will be punished, but your son will turn back soon, no permanent harm done."

Vernon growled angrily as he approached Arthur. . "THAT’S IT! I WON’T TOLERATE ANY MORE OF THIS- THIS FREAKISHNESS IN MY HOUSEHOLD!!" He turned towards Harry. . "I’m sick of you and your kind, boy, I want you out, for good this time! You’ll not be coming back here any more! Vernon yelled furiously.

Mr. . Weasley glanced nervously at Harry.

"Right then, I think this is as good a time as any to leave," he said, backing towards the door. . "Grab your trunk, Harry," he whispered. . He turned back to Vernon. . "Well, Mr. . Dursley, we’ll be leaving now. . I hope you have a good day, and again, sorry about your son," he said quickly as he opened the front door. . The teens quickly hurried through. . Harry turned back just in time to see Mr. . Weasley slam the door in Vernon’s face. .

A car was waiting in front of the Dursley’s driveway. . As Harry pulled the door open, he heard the twins howling with laughter. . Once everyone was inside, Harry turned to the twins. . "What did you do to him?" he asked incredulously.

The twins beamed. . "Them, actually. It’s our new product, Creature Crystals. . You put the crystals into food, a drink, whatever, and when you eat it, it turns you into the animal you most resemble," Fred explained, still chuckling. . George added, "We figured Dudley was a good test subject as any. . After all, we knew what animal he would be!!"

Everyone burst out laughing. . Mr. . Weasley tried hard to conceal his grin as he eyed the twins in the rearview mirror. .

"Now boys, I thought you had learned not to use your products on Muggles! That was very wrong of you, boys, very wrong indeed."

"Oh come on, Dad! You know they deserved it, they’re rotten! After all, they just kicked Harry out of the house for something he didn’t even do! They’re absolute horrors! In fact, it might be worth a spot of trouble to go back and see what Vernon and Petunia’s ‘inner selves’ really are! We’re betting on a Elephant Seal for Vernon and a horse for Petunia " Fred exclaimed.

Mr. Weasley glanced at the twins with an exasperated look, "Oh dear, Harry. I think we’ve gotten you into the thick of it this time."

Hermione turned to Harry.Hermione chimed in "Oh, but Mr. Weasley those… those… terrible people deserve every bit of it. Personally, I think it was brilliant!" to which the twins gave a gallant bow of their heads. Hermione turned to Harry. "Do you really think the Dursley’s won’t let you back in their house, Harry? I can’t imagine they’d be that bad! I’m sure Dumbledore would intercede if it came to that."

Harry shook his head in doubt. . "I don’t think so, Hermione. . Once they’ve made up their mind about something, they’re pretty much going to follow through. . Especially something like this."

Fred said, with a tone of regret in his voice, "Sorry about that, Harry." George added, "Yeah, we didn’t think they’d go quite that far. We thought they would just be mad at us."

Harry waved it off. . "It’s fine, you guys. . Uncle Vernon would have snapped sooner or later. . He was already mad at me for Hedwig delivering my letters. . This was just the final straw." Wanting to end that part of the conversation, he turned to Mr. . Weasley. . ‘Mr. Weasley? Where did you find the car? The Ministry?"

Mr. . Weasley nodded in affirmation. . "Yes, they agreed to let us borrow it to come pick you up. . Good thing too, don’t know how we would have fit all you kids in here in a regular Muggle car." He glared at the twins. . "Although we could have left you two at home!"

The twins just grinned. .

Within minutes, they were pulling up to the Burrow. . Everyone jumped out. . Harry and Ron grabbed Harry’s trunk and lugged it inside.

Mrs. . Weasley greeted them. . "Hello, Harry. . Just put your things in Ron’s room, dear." Complying, Ron and Harry grabbed the trunk and went upstairs. .

Entering Ron’s room, Harry saw it was still an eye searing orange. . After dropping his trunk, Harry collapsed on the bed. . Ron turned to him with an excited look on his face. . "Harry, come downstairs for a minute. . I want to show you something."

Harry shook his head. . "If it’s all the same, I’ll stay up here for now. . I kinda don’t want to deal with everyone right now."

Ron insisted. . "Come on, Harry, it’ll only take a moment or two."

Sighing loudly, Harry pushed himself of the bed and allowed himself to be led downstairs by Ron.

"It’s in the living room, Harry." Grumbling to himself, Harry walked quickly over to the door.

"All right, Ron, what is it you just had to-- "

His jaw dropped as he opened the door and looked in. .

4. The Party

J.K Rowling deservedly reserves all rights to Harry Potter. We’re just glad she lets him come out and play.

A/N – Since we post on both fanfiction.net and portkey, we decided it was easier to keep them in sync, hence the large update today. Thanks for the reviews so far. This is our first large fiction and we hope we are improving with each chapter. Please leave us a note and let us know how we are doing. We promise, there’s a lot more to come. - Troll

Chapter Three- The Party

"Surprise!"

Harry's jaw dropped at the sight that greeted him when he entered the Weasley's living room. The room was packed with people. All the other members of the Order including Lupin and a bright purple haired Tonks were there. Also Ginny, Bill, Charlie, Dumbledore, McGonagall (his eyes widened slightly when he spotted his Transfiguration professor), Neville, Luna, and, standing with his arms crossed and scowling in a corner, was none other than Professor Snape.

His jaw dropped. Snape was the last person he would have expected to be here, especially after the events last year. Snape, noticing his stare, sneered.

Snapping out of his daze, Harry uttered one word.

"Wow."

Everyone laughed and swarmed towards Harry, all of them talking excitedly.

Feeling overwhelmed, Harry just stood there. For the first eleven years of his life, his birthday had been ignored and treated like any other day. When he had entered Hogwarts, he had at least received presents by owl from his friends. But he'd never had a party or any sort of celebration with his friends, much less a mob of people like now.

Ron approached Harry, grinning madly.

"Surprised, Harry?"

Harry grinned back. "Are you kidding? This is great! How long have you been planning this?"

Ron's grin widened. "Oh, about a week. Took us awhile to figure out who was coming, what to eat, stuff like that."

"Well, this explains why you were so eager to get me in here."

Ron nodded, then said, his tone hesitant, "We weren't sure how you would react to something like this so soon after..." He shrugged helplessly. "You know."

Harry nodded, smiling sadly. "It's okay, Ron. I'm getting over it." His grin returned. "I have a feeling this is exactly what I needed."

Ron nodded and his grin became mischievous, "Can you believe Snape is here?"

Harry laughed. "Judging from the way he's glaring, I think its safe to assume he was forced to come by Dumbledore."

Ron nodded in agreement. Just then, Hermione came running over, beaming. She enveloped Harry in a tight hug. After a minute, Harry spluttered, "Hermione...need...to...breathe!"

Hermione gasped, and jumped back. "Oh, sorry Harry!!" she exclaimed.

Harry smiled at her. "That's okay Hermione. It's great to see you all!" And it really was. Gone was most of the apprehension he'd felt at coming here. All he felt now was happiness and excitement.

Hermione smiled. "Sorry about the Dursley's, Harry. I tried to stop Ron," she glared at the red-head, "but he wouldn't listen." Her eyes narrowed. "I really didn't think they'd react like that!" She exclaimed indignantly. "They're an absolute horror!!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that was typical Dursley behavior right there. Don't worry over it. At least now I have an excuse not to go back there this summer: they wouldn't let me in the door!"

They all laughed, then Hermione commented, " You know, the trick the twins played on the Dursley's was a little unfair. After all, they don't know anything about magic, so it probably terrified them out of their wits." Noticing Ron’s outraged look, she hurriedly added, "Although they did deserve it for the way they've treated you, Harry!"

Ron nodded in agreement. "What did they do to you this summer? Refuse to let you out of your room? Give you another gigantic list of chores to do?"

"Surprisingly, the Dursley's pretty much left me alone this summer. I think the threat from Mad-Eye scared them enough."

He didn't mention the marathon chewing out he'd gotten from Vernon as a result of that little threat.

Glancing around the room, he spotted Neville, Ginny, and Luna walking towards him, all smiling.

'Happy birthday, Harry!" Neville exclaimed.

"Yes, happy birthday," Luna said dreamily.

"Thanks you guys. I definitely wasn't expecting this when I arrived at the Burrow."

Neville chuckled. "That was kind of the point, Harry."

Harry grinned. "True, true." Addressing everyone, he said, "So, how have your summer's been?"

A chorus of "Great!" and "Wonderful!" arose.

'I've been working a lot in my Grandmother's garden. She's got some really rare and interesting plants in there," Neville said enthusiastically.

Hermione said, "I've been doing my summer homework mostly. I've been at the Burrow with Ron for about a week, planning this party."

Harry grinned. "Well, glad to hear I could be of some use." At her confused look, he elaborated. "I got you away from that blasted homework, didn't I?"

The whole group laughed, and Hermione swatted Harry's shoulder. Despite herself, she grinned.

"Well, we haven't really been doing anything," said Ron, glancing at his sister.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "We've done a little of our homework, because someone," she glared at Hermione, "wouldn't stop nagging us once she got here!"

Hermione grinned sheepishly.

Harry turned to Luna. "What have you been doing, Luna?"

"Oh, my father and I went on a research expedition in Germany to look for a Red-Crested Thrumper."

"A what?" they exclaimed.

Luna, with a exasperated look, explained. "The Red-Crested Thrumper. It looks a bit like a rabbit, but with a red chest and white fur. They live in forests in Germany. They’re really fascinating." Seeing the still confused looks on their faces, she said, "Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them?"

When they all shook their heads, she sighed. "You all must start reading The Quibbler more often. If you did, you would have heard of the Red-Crested Thrumper long ago. It was in the March issue." Everyone just nodded their heads in agreement.

Hermione tugged Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry! Go and open your presents!"

Ron added, "Yeah, there's a huge load of them over on the table!" He pointed behind Harry.

Harry turned around, and his eyes widened. Sitting on the table were more presents than he'd ever seen, except on Dudley's birthday.

"Are those all for me?" he asked in a quiet, childlike tone.

Ron rolled his eyes and elbowed Harry. "Oi!" bellowed Ron. "Anyone else here having a birthday then? No? Well then I reckon they must be for you, Harry"

Struck speechless for the second time in a few hours, all Harry could say was "Wow."

Hermione gave him a baleful glance. "Eloquent today, aren't we Harry?"

With a sheepish grin, Harry replyed. "Sorry. Just... surprised is all." He gave everyone in the room a grateful smile. "Thanks, everyone. For... everything."

Hermione waved it off, and Ron said in an exasperated voice, "That's all well and good, but there's presents! Get over there and open them!"

Harry burst out laughing, and allowed Ron and Hermione to drag him over to the pile of presents. Hermione handed Harry a small but brightly wrapped package.

"This is from me, Harry." Hermione said.

Harry grinned at her as he felt the package. "Let me guess, Hermione… it’s a book?"

Hermione glared at him even as she smiled. "Just open it, you git!"

Laughing, Harry tore the paper. Inside was, as he predicted, a book: Great Witches and Wizards Through the Ages: The Updated Edition. Glancing up, he saw Hermione smiling madly. "Turn to page 379."

Complying, Harry flipped to the page. In bold print at the top of the page was Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived. His eyes widened. "I’m in this book?" he asked, shocked. Hermione laughed and nodded. "Figured you would like that," Hermione said, snickering. Harry frowned at her. "Well, it looks like a great book, despite me being in it." He put the book aside and was promptly handed another present.

An excited Neville jumped in now with another small box in his hand, "This one’s from me, Harry." Harry grinned at him and promptly ripped the paper of the package. Inside was a five-leaf clover.

"Neville… a five leaf clover?" Harry questioned. "I’ve never even heard of one, only three or four-leaf clovers."

Neville nodded. "Five-leaf clovers are really lucky, because of the extra leaf. They’re really rare, but like I told you, my grandmother has some rare plants in her garden. The clover being one of them." Now he grinned. "I figured one could never have enough luck, Harry. Especially you, what with You-Know-Who trying to kill you and all."

Harry laughed and nodded. "That’s for sure. This is great, Neville. If this doesn’t help me, nothing will."

"Well, if you think you need more luck, Harry, open this one next," Ginny said, passing Harry another package. "Seems that good luck is a theme in gifts this year."

Mystified, Harry tore the paper. Nestled inside the box was a red, fuzzy rabbit’s foot. Harry burst out laughing.

"Ginny, this is great! I didn’t even know they had rabbit’s feet in the wizarding world!" Seeing the confused looks of some of his friends, he amended, "I guess they don’t, huh?"

Ginny chuckled and nodded. "One of my friends is Muggleborn. I got the idea from her, and I figured being raised by Muggles and all, you’d appreciate it." Her smile grew. "I see you have."

"I need all the luck I can get. Thanks a lot, Ginny."

Ron handed him another gift. "Well, sorry mate, but this one doesn’t have anything to do with luck. Although, come to think about it, in your case, you’ll needing Neville’s clover when it comes to this gift."

Harry glanced confusedly at his friend. "Will the lot of you stop using little riddles to describe what you got me? It’s maddening!"

Ron elbowed his friend, "Then open it already, Harry!"

With a glint in his eye, he slowly tore the paper of the package. Ginny shrieked in annoyance and Ron groaned. Chuckling, Harry tore the remaining paper off, and smiled in delight.

"A Wizard’s Chess set! Brilliant!" Harry glanced at his friend. "Maybe now I can finally beat you."

Ron snorted. "Like I said, Harry, you’re going to need more than luck beat me."

Harry smacked his friend, then laughed. "You’ve got a point, much as I hate to admit it. Oh well, there’s a first time for everything." Ron rolled his eyes as if to say, Not likely. Harry chuckled. "Thanks, Ron."

Ron grinned, and Lupin stepped up beside the redhead.

"Harry, this is a box that Sirius and I found at the house, and I’ve had for quite some time. We…I wanted to save it until you graduated, but… now seems like a better time," said Remus, glancing sadly at the floor. He handed Harry a large box, who took it and gave a curious glance at Lupin.

"It was a box of our things from when we were in Hogwarts: me, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail," his features tightened slightly at the name, "And even some of your mother’s things, since we considered her an honorary Maurader."

Harry eagerly opened the box. Inside was a jumbled assortment of items: photographs, papers, letters, and sitting in a corner was the snitch Harry had seen his father toying with in Snape’s pensive.

"Wow…" Harry breathed. "This is… great. Bloody brilliant." He heard Ron snort softly beside him, and grinned at Lupin. "Thank you, Professor," he said sincerely.

Lupin smiled kindly. "They were your parents, Harry. I know you don’t know much about them, so I hoped this might help"

A thought occurred to Harry, "But don’t you want any of this? I mean… to remember your school days by, stuff like that?"

Lupin shook his head. "I don’t need any of that, Harry. I remember them well enough already. Every time I see you I’m reminded of your parents." He winked mischievously. "Besides, you can put these things to much better use than I." Harry laughed, the sad mood that had suddenly come up was broken.

Ron handed Harry yet another gift. He glanced at the tag, his eyes widening when he read, Professor M. McGonagall. His gaze sought out his Transfiguration’s professor, who smiled kindly at him.

"Thank you, Professor. You didn’t have to get me anything."

McGonagall nodded. "I know, Potter. But I did anyway, so don’t keep everyone in suspense any longer and open it."

Harry grinned and obeyed. The package felt like a book, and he should know, after receiving so many books from Hermione. Tearing off the last bit of paper, he smiled when his suspicions were confirmed. There were two books, Transfiguration for Dummies and Potions for Dummies. He grinned. "Ha. So they have these here too." Noticing his teacher’s slightly disconcerted gaze, he elaborated. "They have these kind of books in the Muggle world." He paused. "Well, maybe not for Transfiguration or Potions," he amended.

McGonagall chuckled, and Harry grinned at her. "Thank you, Professor. This will come in handy if I manage to get into your NEWT’s class." McGonagall just gave him a knowing smile. Feeling slightly confused, Harry turned back to his friends. Hermione passed him a gift, this one from Luna. The package was long and thin.

Harry quickly opened it. Inside was piece of parchment. Picking it up, Harry read: "This certificate is good for a years subscription to The Quibbler." Harry gave Luna a look of delight.

"Thanks Luna! Maybe now I’ll finally know what a -- what was it?-- Red-Chested Crumper is." "Red-Crested Thrumper," corrected Luna. "That was the main reason I got it for you. It gets rather tiring when I mention an animal like the Thrumper and not a one of you has a clue as to what I’m talking about."

They all laughed. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Now, Harry, we couldn’t wrap our present, but I have a feeling you’ll like it anyway." She smiled at him. "Now, do you remember the rather peculiar clock I have?" When Harry nodded, she tilted her head towards the wall. "Notice anything new about it?"

Harry turned and looked at the clock. Where previously there had been nine hands, now there were ten. His name had been added, and was now pointing at "home". A lump rose in his throat. For one of the few times in his life, he felt like he was, indeed, home.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he whispered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but found he had no words to describe his gratitude. Mrs. Weasley gave him an understanding smile and patted his shoulder. "Not at all, Harry. We’ve long considered you one of the family." She chuckled. "Although after a while, you may not be as happy about this. Now I’ll be able to tell if you’re getting into trouble."

Ron nodded vigorously. "It’s horrible, Harry. When the twins started playing pranks all the time and getting into trouble, she added the spot that says "getting into mischief". Now, we can’t get away with anything! She always knows what we’re doing!" Harry laughed at his friend, who glared and muttered, "Just you wait."

Now it was the twins’ turn for gift-giving. "Here you go, Harry," said George, handing him a large box. Taking it gingerly, Harry gave a nervous glance at Ron, who just shrugged.

Slowly pulling off the ribbon and paper, Harry sighed in relief when he saw the contents. It was an assortment of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes products. He grinned at the twins. "This is great, you guys! This will come in handy once school starts." Glancing quickly at his professors, he said hurriedly, "Just joking." Snape snorted and McGonagall looked amused. Dumbledore’s eyes just twinkled.

Tonks handed Harry a large a package. "This is kind of a group present from the Order, Harry." It was very heavy, and Harry quickly opened it, curious to see what was inside. He grinned excitedly. It was a set of Defense Against the Dark Arts books, ranging from basic to advanced spells.

"Brilliant! These will be just the thing for the DA." Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. "Then that means you’re continuing the club, Harry?" Neville asked eagerly.

Harry frowned. "I guess so. I hadn’t really thought about it. Umbridge is gone, but if everyone wants to, I guess we can still meet." Glancing at Ron and Hermione for support, he saw them nod in agreement.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "About that, Harry." A sense of dread began to build in his stomach. Was Dumbledore going to ban the club from meeting again? However, his fears were quickly dispelled. "I was intending to tell you once school started, but now seems as good a time as any. I’m making the DA an official club, so you don’t need to meet in secret anymore. Although," he glanced at Hermione, "The Protean Charm you used, Ms. Granger, was quite brilliant." Hermione blushed. Harry and Ron grinned at their best friend. No more sneaking around and worrying about being found out by Umbridge or even Snape.

Bill handed him a small present. "Here you go, Harry. It’s not much, but I saw it at a little shop in Diagon Alley, and I couldn’t resist." He grinned slyly.

Harry opened the parcel and blushed. It was a bottle of cologne which, according to the label, was "Love Potion #8 ¾, Guaranteed to make the ladies go wild!" His face turned crimson when everyone burst out laughing. Bill was laughing the hardest, with Ron a close second. Hermione sniffed and glanced disapprovingly at Bill. Glancing at Hermione, Bill added "I didn’t think you were… quite ready for Potion #9 yet, Harry"

"Thanks, Bill. It’s, er… interesting." Harry said, still blushing.

"Here’s mine, Harry." Charlie said, handing a present to Harry. Then he grinned. "Although I doubt it can compare to what my brother just gave you." He chuckled, giving Bill a thumbs up.

Harry yanked the paper off. Inside was a small figurine of a Hungarian Horntail dragon. He glanced at Charlie. "Had to bring that up again, didn’t you?"

Charlie laughed. "Pick it up, Harry. Although, you might want to watch your fingers."

Harry cautiously removed the figure from the box, and placed it on the palm of his hand. The miniature dragon swung its tail and flapped its wings.

"Cool!" Said Harry in amazement. "I didn’t know that—OUCH!" he yelped. The statue had just bitten his finger. Charlie smirked. "Told you to watch your fingers." Harry smiled ruefully and quickly put the Horntail back in its box.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "I pondered greatly Harry, on what would be an appropriate gift for a young man of 16." His eyes twinkled as he glanced at Bill. "However, I came to the conclusion that something of a more practical use would be called for today. Therefore, I made this over the summer for you, Harry. It’s a portkey, that, when the phrase ‘lemon drops’ is spoken, will take you to my office at Hogwarts. But be aware Harry, the portkey can be used only once, so use it only when in dire need."

Harry smiled at his Headmaster. ‘Thank you, Professor. This means a lot, but I hope you aren’t disappointed when I say I hope I won’t have to use it this year. Although," he started to grin, "I’m five for five so far, you guys. Every year Voldemort’s tried to kill me somehow. Who wants to bet on this year?"

Ron, struggling to keep a straight face, said, "Sorry Harry, but I value what little pocket money I have too much to take that bet." Everyone chuckled, and Harry added, "Probably a smart decision, Ron."

Harry couldn’t possibly think of anyone else that would give him a present. He glanced over to where the once tall pile had stood. Now all that lay there was a small, shabbily wrapped parcel. With a look of curiosity at Ron, who shrugged, he reached over and grabbed the package. When he opened it, a note fell out, along with a roll of parchment and several quills.

For the many essay’s you’re going to be writing this year in my class.

Professor S. Snape

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. Snape had given him a present. Hell must be freezing over. He glanced over at his professor, who sneered.

With a straight face, Harry said, "Thank you very much, Professor. I wouldn’t want to run out of parchment when I’m writing your essays. My supply was getting low, too. Thank you."

Snape just glared, while everyone else tried to stifle their laughter. Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands. "All right, everyone. There’s cake outside!"

Ron’s stomach grumbled, and he gave a wry smirk. Harry just grinned at his ever-hungry best friend. Everyone stood up, stretched, and ambled outside.

On the large table the Weasleys used for picnics, was a large chocolate cake with the words Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing. Sixteen candles flickered as the wind blew.

Someone, probably Ron, started singing. Everyone soon joined in.

"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!"

Harry beamed at everyone. After a few moments, Ron, becoming quite impatient, exclaimed, "Well, Harry, go on! Make a wish and blow out the candles already!"

Harry rolled his eyes, but complied. He scrambled for a wish, and his mind settled on the one thing he wanted most: to have a year where nothing happened; Voldemort didn’t go after him, no one died, and the school didn’t hate him. He wanted to have the first normal school year of his life. He took a deep breath, and blew out the candles.

All but one, that is.

Ron laughed. "Come on, Harry! I thought you had more hot air than that!!"

Harry peered over his glasses at his friend, which only made the red-head laugh harder. With an indignant huff, the candle was out. He scowled at Ron. "Happy now?" Ron gave an agreeable nod, stifling his laughter unsuccessfully.

Mrs. Weasley started cutting slices of cake and passing one to each person. Harry dug into his. It was delicious. He savored the moment, trying to recapture everything that had happened that evening at his first birthday party. He felt a pang of guilt when he realized that he hadn’t thought about Sirius at all that day, but quickly brushed it aside. He knew Sirius wouldn’t have wanted him to dwell on his death on a day as happy as this one. So, Harry would do just that. He would spend the rest of the evening talking and laughing with his friend and teachers while thinking of the good times he had had with Sirius.

A while later, Harry heard McGonagall’s familiar "Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you for a moment?" As she led them over to a quiet corner of the room, Harry pondered how he could be in trouble already, since the year hadn’t even started yet. Seeing the look of concern on his face, she quickly added "Don’t worry Potter. Your not in any trouble… yet." Her eyes twinkled slightly, and he grinned. She continued, "With that miserable Umbridge woman gone, Professor Dumbledore has lifted your Quidditch ban at Hogwarts. And as you know, with Wood having graduated, Gryffindor will be in need of a new Quidditch captain this year. Although, I have my doubts about your judgement from time to time…" she paused, with a stern, almost motherly look, "I believe, with Ms. Granger’s continued help, you could fulfill your studies and carry out the duties of Quidditch captain."

Harry could only stare: a veritable deer in the headlights. ‘Quidditch Captain!’he thought. "Well…Er… I…well… really hadn’t given it much thought…" he lied, rather unconvincingly. "Well, what say you Mr. Potter?" prodded McGonagall. "Well… Er…well I really would be honored to, but…" started Harry. McGonagalll could see that he was struggling with something, and knowing Harry, knew that she was going to have to drag it out of him. "But what, Potter? Is there a problem?"

Glancing over at Ron "No, Professor. It’s just that, well, I was thinking that Ron would actually make a better captain. I mean, I would love to do it and all, but Ron is a much better strategist and he knows all parts of the game so much better than I and…"

McGonagall smiled warmly at Harry, "I take then, that you were not being totally truthful about not having given it much thought then, hmm Mr. Potter? Although I do have my concerns regarding Mr. Weasley’s studies suffering, I’m sure that Ms. Granger will oblige both of you, whether asked to or not. Are you sure of this Mr. Potter? Once turned down, it cannot be given back."

"I am, Professor," said Harry. "Quidditch is what Ron lives for. I just couldn’t take that from him. He’s always felt that he has been second in everything and I think it should be his turn for once."

"It is a fine and honorable thing you’re doing Mr. Potter, and I do believe that Mr. Weasley does know how good a friend you are. Even if he is too stubborn to ever show it." said McGonagalll. As she turned to walk across the room to see Ron, Harry quickly added, "Professor?" "Yes, Mr. Potter?" "Please, could you not mention to Ron that we had this conversation? I really would rather he not know you offered this to me first," Harry said with a pleading look. "Don’t fret, Mr. Potter. I agree this is something best left here between the two of us," with which she turned and walked off to find Ron. It wasn’t but a few moments later that Harry heard Ron thunder "QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN!", whereupon Harry could only smile.

All too soon, the sky grew dark, and the party ended. Harry said goodbye to everyone, promising to try and meet Neville and Luna in Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies. After a few minutes, the Burrow was relatively empty: all that remained were the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley quickly ushered them off to bed. "Come on now, its getting late, and you all have had an exciting day. Off with you now!" Yawning, they complied without too much protest. Hermione headed over to Harry and gave him another hug. "Happy birthday Harry" she mumbled into Harry’s chest. Then, with a moment of hesitation, she lifted herself up on her toes and gave Harry a light kiss on the cheek. Before Harry could say anything, she was swiftly off with Ginny to her room. With a bewildered look, Ron muttered "Come on, mate, off to bed with you."

After pulling on their pajamas, Harry and Ron sat talking in the dark.

"Have fun, Harry?"

Harry smiled in the dark. "Yeah, I did. My first party ever was definitely one to remember. Thanks a lot, Ron."

"Glad you liked it. See you in the morning, Harry."

"Night, Ron."

Stretching out on his bed, Harry drifted asleep, thinking, not of death and destruction, but laughter and parties. For the first time in weeks, he slept without nightmares.

5. The Trial

The Harry Potter Universe is owned by J.K.Rowling. Bummer!

Chapter 4: The Trial

Harry woke up to wonderful smells and a flood of brilliant sunshine. This was his first clue that he wasn’t at the Dursley’s. If he had been, Aunt Petunia would be yelling at him to get up and make breakfast. Instead, he was free to wake up on his own and go downstairs to eat a breakfast that he didn’t make. He gave a happy smile. This week just kept getting better and better.

He glanced over at the lump in the next bed.

"Ron."

The lump didn’t move.

"Ron."

The lump gave a slight stir, groaning.

Harry frowned in exasperation and threw his covers off. Walking over to Ron’s bed, he bent down so he was close to Ron’s face.

"RON!!"

The redheaded boy bolted out of bed, glancing around wildly "What? I didn’t do it, mum, I swear!" When his gaze fell on Harry, he groaned and burrowed back into the covers.

"Get up, Ron," Harry said insistently.

"Go away, Harry!" grumped Ron.

Harry smiled wickedly. "There’s food downstairs, Ron."

Ron bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. "Food?" Harry nodded. Ron grinned. "What are you waiting for, Harry? Let’s go!" And with that, he bounded out the door and thumped down the stairs. Harry rolled his eyes and followed.

He met Hermione on the way downstairs. "Morning Harry," she yawned.

"Morning ‘Mione."

It seemed everyone else was already downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was busy finishing breakfast, while everyone else sat talking. Mr. Weasley and the twins were discussing the twins’ latest prank, while Ron, Charlie, and Ginny were in an animated debate regarding the Chudley Cannons prospects for the year. Bill had gone in early to Gringott’s.

Harry plopped down at the table, breathing in the delicious aromas of breakfast cooking. "Morning everyone," he greeted. "Morning!" replied an enthusiastic group.

"Sleep well, Harry?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

Harry nodded.

"Good," said Mrs. Weasley, bustling over with a frying pan full of bacon and sausage. She tipped a few onto everyone’s plate, frowning slightly as she appraised Harry.

"You are far to skinny, dear. Didn’t those horrid Muggles feed you anything?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, Dudley’s still on his diet, so everyone’s eating a little less. No big deal."

Mrs. Weasley’s frown grew as she muttered to herself, "Awful people, those Muggles. Depriving a growing boy of nutrition…"

Ron glanced at Harry and rolled his eyes. Harry snorted.

"All right, everyone, dig in!" Mrs. Weasley said brightly. Wasting no time, the boys turned to their plates and dug in with an enthusiasm rivaling a starving lion pouncing upon a startled Wildebeest. Hermione and Ginny scrunched their noses at the boys.

"Honestly, you two, didn’t you ever learn manners?" Hermione glanced at Mrs. Weasley. "No offense, Mrs. Weasley." Mrs. Weasley just waved it off. "You’re absolutely right, Hermione. Ron never has learned proper manners at the table." She glared at Ron, who blushed as he swallowed. "Er…sorry mum," he mumbled. Harry grinned at him.

The meal proceeded relatively calmly, with the twins only flinging a few bits of food at Ron and Harry. Mr. Weasley broke up the food fights before they could become full-fledged wars. Harry spent most of the meal talking to Charlie about dragons, in particular, the Hungarian Horntail. Mrs. Weasley fussed over everyone, insisting they take second and third helpings. It was a welcome change from the Dursley’s: being offered extra food that he hadn’t made. Everyone ate until they could eat no more, and then some.

With an immense feeling of satisfaction, Harry pushed back form the table. He was so full, he felt like he would never eat again. Ron gave a lazy stretch beside him.

Just then, a handsome barn owl swooped in, landing neatly on the counter. Tied to its leg were three pieces of official looking parchment. Hermione squealed in delight.

"Oh, it must be our OWL results! I’ve been wondering when those would arrive!" she bubbled as she relieved the owl of it burden. As soon as she had untied the parcels, the owl hooted and flew off. She tossed Ron and Harry their parchments and quickly sprinted off to another corner to open hers.

Harry and Ron grabbed their respective papers and opened them. As Harry scanned his, his face broke into a grin. He had done much better than he had expected.

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Transfigurations: E

Charms: E

History of Magic: P

Care Of Magical Creatures: O

Astronomy: A

Divination: A

Potions: E

His face fell slightly when he saw his Potion’s grade. In order to become an Auror, he needed to take NEWT’s level Potions, but Snape only took students who received O’s on their OWL’s into his NEWT’s level class. Then he noticed a postscript on the bottom on the parchment.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I have discussed your Potion’s scores with Professor Snape, and he has agreed to allow you entrance into his NEWT’s level course, albeit on probation. I highly suggest you take use this opportunity to your advantage, as Professor Snape does not do something like this often. Your birthday present will indeed come in handy, I assure you. Oh, and congratulations on your Transfiguration’s score, Mr. Potter, and I hope to see you do well in my class next year.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry grinned. He had been accepted into Snape’s class after all! He silently thanked McGonagall. He knew it was only because of her that he was in that class. He reread the note and smiled. At least now he knew why she had looked so smug when he had commented on his present. He was very glad he had that Potions book now. Then another thought burst into his mind. Of course, why hadn’t he realized it last night? Professor Snape’s message with his present ‘For the many essay’s you’re going to be writing this year in my class.’ He must have been more astounded at Snape giving him a gift than he realized.

Turning back to his score, he glanced over them again. He had expected the O in DADA and Care of Magical Creatures, those were his best subjects. Harry was slightly surprised at his Transfigurations grade, as well as his Astronomy score, considering what had happened during that exam. However, he had expected the low score in History of Magic, considering he hadn’t paid much attention during that class his entire time at Hogwarts. Harry had also expected to get a Troll on Divination, how he had managed an A was lost on him. Considering he hadn’t predicted his looming death on the exam, he didn’t see how anything he had described could have been right enough to pass the exam.

He shrugged to himself and turned to Ron. "How’d you do?"

Ron grinned. "Pretty well, in fact. O’s in Defense and care of Magical Creatures, E’s in Charms and Transfiguration, A’s in Potions and Astronomy, and P’s in Divination and History of Magic." He grimaced at the last two. "Well, like I said last year, we were always going to fail those two."

They turned to Hermione, who was beaming. Ron said, "Why even bother asking? We all know what Hermione got: straight O’s. Right, Hermione?"

Hermione smacked him on the arm, but nodded. Ron turned to Harry. "Told you."

Harry grinned. Standing on her toes in an attempt to peek over at Harry’s paper, Hermione asked, "How did you do, Harry?"

"O’s in Defense and Care of Magical Creatures, E’s in Charms, Potions, and Transfigurations, A’s in Divination and Astronomy, and a P in History of Magic. Pretty good, overall. Oh, and guess what? Somehow, McGonagall got me into Snape’s class!"

Ron frowned. "And that’s a good thing?"

Harry laughed. "Well, yes, because I need that class to become an Auror."

"Oh yeah, forgot about that. ‘S still horrible, though, you being stuck with him for a whole ‘nother year."

Harry shrugged. "Well, at least I’ll have one of you with me there," he said to Hermione. She nodded, then asked Ron, "So, what are you going to be taking instead of Potions?"

Ron colored slightly. "Well… I was thinking about taking…er…"

‘Spit it out, Ron," Hermione proded.

"Muggle Studies," Ron said in a rush. Hermione beamed.

"Oh, that’s wonderful, Ron! It will do you a lot of good. And now you’ll be able to tell your Dad about all the Muggle things you learn, since he’s so fascinated by them."

Ron just nodded and turned to Harry. Harry immediately knew that something else was up as Ron couldn’t quite squelch the smirk growing on his face. "And?" queried Harry. Ron’s grin expanded just a trifle more. "Are you going to tell me Ron, or must I play 20 questions? Now out with it!" Harry prodded. Ron slowly reached into the Hogwarts envelope and withdrew a bright, golden, prefect’s badge.

"Oh Ron, two years in a row. Congratulations!" squealed Hermione, as she enveloped him in a bear hug. "Prefect AND Quiddich captain. I’m so proud of you! Oh, but I’m going to have to put together a study plan for you Ron or you’ll never be able to … "

"Hermione?" interrupted Harry. "Didn’t you get a prefect’s badge as well? I mean, who else could they have possibly given it to?" Hermione, looking down at the floor sheepishly replied, "Well, now that you mention it" as she pulled her own golden badge from her robe.

"Congratulations yourself, Hermione!" Ron and Harry joyfully echoed. "But, why didn’t you say something?" added Harry. "Well, I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in case… I mean…" she stammered. "In case what?" grumbled Ron, "in case they didn’t give it to me but gave it to Harry instead?"

"No… but, well in a way." replied Hermione quietly. "I just wasn’t sure, since they had already made you Quidditch captain, Ron. I mean, being both Prefect and Quidditch Captain is a lot of work. Well, we know you can do it, I just wasn’t sure they did."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence ‘Mione," beamed Ron. "Although I do have to admit, I did think they would give one or both to Harry here. I mean, let’s face it, I wasn’t exactly the poster boy for Hogwart’s prefect last year."

"Oh go on Ron, " chimed in Harry, with a bit of a sad tone "with Umbridge lurking around every corner waiting to trounce on us, it wasn’t as though you had much chance…"

Ron looked at Harry. He could see that Harry was happy for him, yet sad none the less. Could it be that he really was expecting to be either prefect or Quiddich Captain? "Thanks Harry. I really didn’t expect to be either a prefect or the Quiddich Captain. Especially team captain. I mean, without you we don’t have much of a team and you are so much better than I am."

Harry could only think back to what Dumbledore had said ‘You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess…that I rather thought… you had enough responsibility to be going on with.’ Yes, he thought. His parents, Quirrell, a Basilisk, Cedric, Sirius, saving the whole bloody wizarding world…he only wondered what Dumbledore felt he would be "going on with" this year to have passed over him again…"No Ron, you’re wrong." replied Harry, a little to tersely. "You’re the one who knows everything about Quidditch; the strategies, the team plays. Me, I just wander around looking for the snitch. Not much strategy involved there. And it was you and Hermione that helped everyone survive Umbridge last year. You were a good prefect, Ron, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!" ended Harry, in almost an angry tone.

"Prefect!?" they heard gleeful Molly shout from across the room. "Ron? Harry? Hermione? Who is it now, tell me." Saved again from a tumble down the stairs of self-pity, Harry painted a smile on his face for Molly and replied, "Both of them Mrs. Weasley. Isn’t if grand, they both got it again!"

"Oh, this is just… just… Oh, I’m so thrilled! You two are on you way to being Head Boy and Girl. I just know it. Oh, we really must have a celebration! I must make something special for you for dinner tonight. Just you wait, I must tell your father…" at which Molly literally bounded away to floo call Mr. Weasley.

"Sorry Harry, you know how mum gets. Hey, what do you say we go play Quidditch later?"

Harry nodded eagerly, then frowned, "I’ll have to borrow one of your brooms, though. Mine is still at Hogwarts, since Umbridge confiscated it." He glanced at the twins who replied, "No problem. We’ve got some old ones in a shed out back. You can use those."

Fred brightened. "Hey, wait! Now that Umbridge is gone Harry, do you think your Quidditch ban will be lifted?"

George beamed. "Hey, I never thought of it that way, but it makes sense!" Harry grinned happily. Sixth year was starting to have potential.

Ginny piped up, "Can I play too?"

George nodded. "Sure. We don’t have enough for a full team, so we’ll just take turns being Chaser and Keeper." He turned to Hermione. "Are you going to play?" Hermione shook her head quickly. "No thanks, I’m not all that fond of flying… besides, there’s some homework I still have to finish."

Everyone groaned, and Ron asked in shock, "You mean you still have homework? After all the nagging you’ve been doing, you haven’t finished yours?"

Hermione said with an indignant snort, "Excuse me, Ronald, but I seem to remember planning a birthday party? Sound familiar to you?" Ron blushed. "So, yes, I still have a bit of homework left. Though, not nearly as much as you I imagine Ronald Weasley!" Harry chuckled.

The twins stood. "Right! Ready, everyone?" Harry, Ron, Charlie and Ginny nodded and stood. Hermione stood as well and started towards the door. Everyone began looking at each other with puzzled looks, she said while eyeing Harry, "Well, I figured I could come watch for a while." Grinning, Harry followed everyone else outside.

Quickly, they had a mini-Quidditch game going. They all took turns as Chasers and Keeper. Harry quickly found out he was quite horrible at chasing, but not as bad at keeping. Ron seemed to have improved as a Keeper over the summer, and Ginny was quite a good chaser.

"Hey Gin, you should go out for chaser this year. You’re really good."

Ginny flushed pink. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "Have you been practicing?"

"A little. I was planning on trying out for Chaser anyway, but your comment gives me a boost." Ginny grinned. "Thanks Harry."

Harry grinned back.

The game continued for another half-hour, before everyone grew tired and went inside. They traipsed over to the living room and collapsed into the chairs scattered throughout the room. Just then, Mr. Weasley walked in.

"Hi Dad," the Weasley’s chorused, smiling at their father. Mr. Weasley returned an empty smile.

"What’s wrong, Dad?" Ron asked curiously.

"I need to talk to you all about the trial. It’s going to take place tomorrow."

Harry’s eyes widened. "Tomorrow?" He asked.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "And as you all know, you’ve been asked to testify. Harry, Ron, the twins, Hermione, even you, Ginny. Neville and Lee Jordan have also been asked."

"And Professor McGonagall is testifying, right?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, because of the "Stunner Incident", as its come to be called. Hagrid has been asked as well." He smiled. "I guess the Ministry wants to cover its bases since they’re having so many of you testify."

Hermione asked curiously, "Why is Lee testifying?"

Ron answered that question. "Umbridge used a Blood Quill on him in one of her detentions."

Hermione gasped. "Oh, that’s awful! Blood Quills were made illegal ages ago!"

Ginny looked confused. "What’s a Blood Quill?"

"A Blood Quill is just what it sounds like," Harry said. "Instead of writing with ink, it writes with a persons own blood. Whatever you write gets carved into the back of your hand." With that, he held out his hand so everyone could see the white scaring, I must not tell lies. A collective gasp went up through the room.

"Oh Harry, why didn’t you tell anyone?" Ginny looked horrified and muttered, "I knew something was wrong with her…"

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. ‘Well, all the more reason for you to testify. Does anyone else know about this?"

Harry shook his head yes. Looking from Hermione and Ron to Mr. Weasley, he said," I didn’t tell any of the professors because I knew nothing could happen. Umbridge was in control of the school, even when Dumbledore was there. As long as she was there, anything that she caused at Hogwarts had Ministry approval. Besides, if I had told McGonagall or someone, they would have just gotten in trouble with Umbridge. It wouldn’t have done any good," he shrugged. As he said this, Hermione saw his shoulders slump in resignation, so she reached over and gave him a comforting hug. Not knowing what else to do, Harry gave her an awkward pat on the back. She eventually pulled away, sniffing, but with a murderous look in her eye.

"I’m glad that woman is going to Azkaban!" Hermione declared. "She’s been nothing but monstrous; sacking teachers, and hurting students?! She’s a despicable… Horrible…OOH!" Hermione accentuated her last statement with a stomp of her foot, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Breathe, Hermione. It’s okay. Umbridge has been called in front of the Wizengamot already, remember? That’s why we’re performing the unpleasant task of appearing there tomorrow."

Hermione blushed, but grinned as she said, "And I can’t wait."

Arthur cleared his throat. "So, now that I’ve told you lot what’s happening tomorrow, any questions?"

Ron nodded. "When’s the trial start? When do we have to be there to testify?"

"The trial starts at eight o’ clock sharp."

Ron eyebrows arched, "That early! If they’re going to make us look at Umbridge’s ugly face, couldn’t they at least make it at decent hour?"

Hermione frowned. "Oh, hush Ron. It’s not that early, and besides, it will be worth it to see that fowl witch sent to Azkaban."

Ron pouted, but nodded in agreement. "Good point, ‘Mione."

"So, you all need to get a good night’s sleep so you’ll be coherent tomorrow," Mr. Weasley said sternly.

"Chill Dad," Ginny said, "You’re starting to sound like Mum!"

Mr. Weasley laughed. "Well, I am married to her. Maybe she’s started to rub of on me!"

Ron shuddered, "Two of Mum running around? That would be awful!"

A voice came from behind him. "And why would that be so horrible, Ronald?"

Ron paled and gulped. "J-just joking Mum. Ha-ha." He smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows, but her eyes were twinkling. Addressing everyone, she said, "Lunch is ready, everyone."

"Great, I’m starving!" Ron exclaimed, and dashed off to the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course he is. It’s been, what," she glanced at her watch, "three hours since he stuffed himself at lunch?"

Harry grinned. "That’s Ron for you, Hermione." She flopped her arms to her sides in resignation, but grinned anyway. They all stood and headed towards the kitchen.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Hermione nagged at them until they agreed to do more homework. Ron and Harry spent the rest of the day playing Wizard’s Chess and Exploding Snap. After a delicious dinner, Mrs. Weasley ushered them off to bed. After saying goodnight to everyone, Ron and Harry trudged off to the room they shared.

"Ready for the trial tomorrow, Harry?" Ron inquired through a yawn.

Harry frowned. "More than you’ll ever know."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I can’t wait to see that woman get sent to Azkaban. I mean, there’s no way she’ll get off! All the students know how evil she is, and everyone saw her attack Hagrid and McGonagall!"

Harry laughed, the sound tinged with bitterness. "This is Fudge we’re talking about here, Ron. He’ll mess things up no matter what, and he’s on Umbridge’s side."

"At least Dumbledore is in charge of the Wizengamot! He’s fair!" added Ron.

Harry made a noncommittal sound, then rolled over onto his side. "Night Ron. See you tomorrow."

"Night Harry."

Silence descended on the room, but Harry’s mind still raced about at a mile a minute, wondering what in the world would happen tomorrow.

6. Umbridge

The wonderful J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and has earned every knut.

Chapter 5 – Umbridge

Molly had outdone herself at breakfast that morning. Harry couldn’t help but have the "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" resonate in his mind as he witnessed the ballet of pots and pans, spoons and knives, that was Molly preparing the morning meal. Even Hermione was mesmerized by it. The discussions were reserved and anxious with thoughts of the trial, as they all worked their way through the seconds and thirds, or fourths and fifths in Ron’s case, which Molly had thrust upon them.

"A simply wonderful meal, as always, Mrs. Weasley. May I help you clean up?" gave Harry as he stretched in his chair.

"Why thank you Harry, but I can get this quite well." She smiled kindly at him, before ushering them out. "Now, off with the lot of you before you’re late."

When Moody and Shacklebolt arrived to help escort Harry and the others, they were off. Although the drive into London went without mishap, the weather became increasingly damp and dreary the closer they got to the ministry.

"Hurry, Harry!" yelped Hermione as she and Harry dashed through the drizzle into the telephone box that was the entrance to the Ministry. Lifting the receiver, Hermione dialed the number, "six…two…four…four…two, oh I do hope this is right."

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," a female voice echoed through the cramped telephone box.

"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, witnesses for the Delores Umbridge trial."

"Thank you," replied the voice, as two silver badges dropped into the telephone’s coin return. "Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

"Yes, we know," muttered an anxious Harry, "We’ve been here before."

After registering their wands with the guard, they stood and waited until everyone else had made it inside. This gave Hermione a moment to look around, something she hadn’t had the opportunity to do when they had come here in their misguided rescue attempt of Sirius. As Harry watched Hermione slowly walk towards the fountain, since repaired from the battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort, he cringed. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the belittling positions of the centaur, goblin, and house-elf in relation to the witch and wizard. Maybe if I just distract her, thought Harry.

"Hermione, I…"

"How could they! Those arrogant, pompous, Self- Important, Supercilious… OOHH!"

She noticed.

"Hermione?"

"How DARE they do something like this? House elves, goblins, and centaurs are in no way inferior to wizards! Why, just look at all the ways they contribute to society!"

"HERMIONE!"

Startled out of her rant, she turned to Harry. "Oh, what is it, Harry?"

"Don’t you remember that centaurs asked to be considered "beasts"?"

She just stared at him. "Harry Potter, did you just quote a book? And a book not on Quidditch at that?"

"I needed something to do over the summer…"

In an instant, her gaze turned a mix of understanding and sympathy and she gave a comforting squeeze to Harry’s hand, "Oh Harry, I’m sorry…"

Just then, Mr. Weasley’s voice rang out. "All right, you lot, time to head over to the courtroom. Trial’s about to start. Come on, hurry up!"

Hermione gave Harry’s hand another squeeze, then, with a wince, turned to follow Mr. Weasley down a set of stairs.

The courtroom open for the trial was the same as had been used for Harry’s hearing, deep in the lowest levels of the Ministry. As the group proceeded in through the heavy wood and iron doors, an ill feeling fell over them as though a dementor had pulled all happiness and hope from them. The ancient walls of dark stone filled with foreboding shadows did nothing to alleviate their trepidation.

"Harry," asked a very nervous Ron, "Is this like the courtroom where your hearing was held?"

"This is the courtroom where my hearing was held, Ron."

"Bloody Hell, Harry! And you had to be here by yourself? I’m not even the one on trial here and I’m in a state! How did you do it, mate?"

"Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived in time to save my skin," said Harry as he noticed that Hermione was staring at him with a sad look in her eyes. "It’s okay, Hermione, I made it, remember? This time will be Umbridge’s turn, although it will be interesting to see if Fudge tries to discredit her, like he’s always done with me."

A hush fell over the room when a door at the back of the chamber opened and two guards stepped in with Delores Umbridge. Less than half the height of the two guards and nearly as big around as the two combined, she may have lost her haughty air, but she still resembled a toad. She needed to be lead by the two guards as she still wore the dazed look of a frightened animal that she had while in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. As the guards approached the chair at the center of the room, Ron couldn’t resist the temptation and produced a series of "clopping" sounds with his feet. At this, Umbridge’s eyes bulged, she took in a sharp breath, and a nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth bobbled madly.

While most of their group fought madly to stifle their sniggers, his action earned him a smack over the head from Molly. Glancing up he saw Professor McGonagall across the room with a stern look in her eyes, yet a hint of a smile on her mouth. At the justice’s bench, he also noticed a bright twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes.

"This trial will come to order," announced Madam Bones to the room. "Although Professor Dumbledore has been reinstated as the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, he has asked, for the purposes of this trial, that I preside over it due to his obvious conflict with being the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At this time the charges will be read." Reaching down and retrieving a rather large sheet of parchment, Madam Bones began, "Dolores Jane Umbridge, you are charged with the following: One – with forethought and malicious intent, did cast the Cruciatus curse upon the person known as Harry James Potter. Two – with forethought and malicious intent, did make use of an illegal Blood Quill upon the person known as Lee Thomas Jordan. Three -- …yes… Ms. Granger, I believe it is?"

All eyes in the room turned to the diminutive, red-faced girl, whose best friend was desperately trying to pull her hand down out of the air. Shooing Harry away, Hermione rose slowly from her seat, "My apologies, your honor, but you see, Lee Jordan was not the only student on which the blood quill was used."

"And whom else was it used upon, may we ask?" queried Madam Bones.

Silently, Hermione turned and looked directly into Harry’s eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek, took his right hand into hers and raised it high for all to see.

"Are you prepared to testify, Mr. Potter, as to the truth of this"

Harry’s heart broke at the sight of Hermione, the tears now coming in quiet torrents. "Er… yes ma’am… I mean, yes Your Honor," was all he could manage.

"So be it. Let the records show the names Lee Thomas Jordan and Harry James Potter," pronounced Madam Bones as she touched her wand to the parchment.

"Now, where were we. Yes, three – did dismiss two professors of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without due process as required by their contract. Four – did attack, without provocation and with intent to cause bodily harm, both Professors Rubeus Hagrid and Minerva McGonagall, and five – did have all owl post entering and leaving the school intercepted and read by an ‘Inquisitorial Squad’… made up of students?! These being the charges before the court, how do you plead?"

"Why not guilty, of course!" bellowed Fudge. "These charges are preposterous to say the least. It is ridiculous that…"

"QUIET!" roared Madam Bones, "I will not have you interrupting these proceedings Minister Fudge. You will show the same respect to this court as the court shows to the current minister! So, unless you are here to represent Ms. Umbridge and not as a voting member of the Wizengamot, I recommend you sit quietly. Minister Fudge, what will it be?"

"Er – I – my – a – pardon, Madam Bones. No, I am not here to represent Ms. Umbridge," replied a suddenly meek Fudge.

"Right then, Ms. Umbridge, I ask again. How do you plead?"

Umbridge looked slowly around the room as though she was just beginning to understand where she was, "I didn’t do anything wrong…I did everything for the good of the ministry…Cornelius, you know that…"

"I will take your response to mean not guilty. We will therefore, call the first witness… let’s see… Mr. Lee Jordan," said Madam Bones, cutting Umbridge off.

Lee was escorted into the center of the room to the chair recently occupied by Umbridge. His testimony was rather brief, describing when and why he had received detention and the circumstances surrounding the use of the Blood Quill. When prompted, he proudly displayed his hand to chamber with the words "I shall behave" lightly scarred into it.

Next came Ginny, who testified as to Umbridge’s attempted use of the Cruciatus Curse on Harry. Although she was honest in telling that Hermione had interrupted Umbridge before she had completed the entire spell, the effect on the members of the Wizengamot was immense, nevertheless. When asked if she had anything more to add, Ginny went on to say, "She, Ms. Umbridge I mean, also admitted that she was the one who ordered the dementors after Harry last summer. She said something like ‘someone had to act’ and ‘what Fudge doesn’t know won’t hurt him’ and that the ministry was trying to discredit Harry."

After this statement, Madam Bones turned to the ghostly white Fudge and gave him a look that, had she a wand in her hand, would have been sure to cause spontaneous combustion.

Professor McGonagall was then called to the witness chair. In the prim and proper manner that is her hallmark, Minerva proceeded to describe how she had attempted to lend aid to Hagrid the night of the astronomy owls, only to find herself under attack. She provided testimony detailing the many events throughout the year; the confrontational inspections; the sacking of Trelawney without hearing; educational decrees too numerous to count; and finally the attempted sacking of Hagrid; all actions targeted against anyone who showed the least amount of allegiance to Dumbledore.

"Humph!" snorted Fudge, "She was well within her rights. As the Ministry appointed High Inquisitor, she was given the authority to run the school as she saw fit."

"And does that authority include the use of Blood Quills, Minister?" asked McGonagall as if she were scolding a first year student.

"Of – of – course it does not!"

"And I suppose this Ministry granted authority also included the use of intimidation, physical force, or the use of Veritaserum, Minister?" queried Minerva, with the barest hint of smile.

"Certainly no…t, did you say Veritaserum? I gave no authorization for the use of Versatium. You’re making this up! No one was given Veritaserum!" blustered Fudge.

"On the contrary, Minister. Professor Snape was tasked to deliver all in his possession for the questioning of Mr. Potter and then requested to brew more…"

"Bullocks! I will not -- " but Fudge was cut short. Madam Bones had cast a silencing charm on Fudge.

"I believe I warned you about controlling your outbursts, Cornelius. Now if you swear that you will control yourself, I will remove the charm and we can proceed."

Minister Fudge raised his hand and nodded his head in defeat.

"Thank you. Professor McGonagall, you may go." smiled Madam Bones. "We now call upon… Harry James Potter."

Harry tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, but found that his mouth was as dry as a desert wind. As he slowly stood, he looked to Ron and Hermione as though pleading for their rescue, but he knew there was nothing they could really do. "Go on mate, you’ll do fine," encouraged Ron, while Hermione gave Harry’s hand a gentle squeeze. Harry looked to the lone chair in the middle of the room. The same chair, with arms covered in chains, which he had sat in during his own hearing. His eyes then wandered to Dumbledore, who gave him a reassuring smile and nodded his head.

"Mr. Potter." began Madam Bones in a peaceful tone. "Please, you are here only to testify to events as you witnessed them. It is not you who is on trial here today. Please be seated."

Harry made his way to the chair, sat, took a deep tentative breath, and began.

He told of the use of the Blood Quill when he had refused to change his statements regarding the rise of Voldemort. That Umbridge would press him relentlessly until he lost control, only to receive detention after detention with the quill. Gasps could be heard throughout the room when he held his hand aloft with the words "I must not tell lies" scared across it.

He told of the night of the astronomy OWLs and the unprovoked attack on Hagrid and Professor McGonagall.

And, he told of the Veritaserum that he had suspected was in the tea she had given him during one ‘little chat’, during which she repeatedly demanded the whereabouts of Dumbledore and Sirius. When he couldn’t provide it, she swore she would eventually find them anyway since she was having the owl post opened by the Inquisitorial Squad. He described how latter, Snape had confirmed her use of Veritaserum when the Professor attempted to explain to her that a month would be required to brew more.

Harry ended by relating how, in her rising frustration with events occurring at the school, she divulged sending the dementors to Privet Drive during the summer. Then, in order to acquire information, she attempted the Cruciatus Curse on him.

"That about covers it, your Honor." explained Harry to the court.

Madam Bones reviewed the remaining parchments before her and began, "At this point, I think we have heard enough and --"

"Please, Madam Bones," interrupted Fudge, "if I may be allowed, I would like to ask Mr. Potter a few questions."

"Only a few, Minister. You may proceed."

Fudge rose to his all but considerable height, brushed some non-existent lint from his robe, and gave a slight bow to Madam Bones. As he puffed out his chest, almost matching the plumpness of his middle, he began.

"Mr. Potter. Is it true that you were the leader of an unauthorized and subversive dark arts organization called the DA?"

"Yes, but – "

"And is it also true that membership to this organization was not open to all, but only offered to students who demonstrated they were against the Hogwarts administration?"

"Yes… No… it wasn’t --"

"Yes or No, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, but it –"

"Mr. Potter, during the time that these alleged events were taking place, was Headmaster Dumbledore there at Hogwarts?"

"Mostly, yes."

"And, isn’t it true that all proceedings occurring within the walls of the school must do so with the Headmaster’s concurrence?"

"Yes, but Umbridge –"

"Aah, but Ms. Umbridge was merely the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Are you saying that Headmaster Dumbledore was not in control of his school?"

"Yes! I mean, NO! Wait, you’re twisting my words. That’s not ---"

"Again, Mr. Potter. Yes or no?"

Harry’s anger was almost to the exploding point, his hands clenched so tight, his fingers were white. "I WON’T ANSWER! You’re just trying to skive off the fact that YOU sent that… that… TOAD to ruin the school and now you’re trying to blame it all on Professor Dumbledore. I WON’T DO IT!"

At this point, Madam Bones had had her fill. Once again, holding her hand up to stop the Minister’s inevitable retort, she spoke in a low, cool voice, "I think that is quite enough, Cornelius. Please return to your seat!" She then turned towards Harry, and with a smile she added, "Mr. Potter, thank you, and you may return to your seat as well."

Harry was still upset over the questions from Fudge. It was taking all of his restraint just to keep from leaping onto the dais and tromping the Minister senseless. He felt he had let his Headmaster down; that he had not defended him as well as he should have. With a pleading look in his eyes he steered his gaze over to Dumbledore expecting to find him upset with Harry. To his relief, what he saw was quite the opposite. There, in all his glory, was a very proud looking Dumbledore, wearing a broad smile and devilishly twinkling eyes. With Dumbledore’s simple nod of acknowledgement, Harry knew that things would be ok.

Madam Bones then informed the court that they would pause for a few minutes while everyone took a few moments to reflect on the testimony, after which they would vote. As he returned to his seat between Ron and Hermione, the Weasleys and the group of Griffindors congratulated Harry on what they thought was a fine testimony.

"Harry, it’s over now. You can relax. You did a great job and have nothing to be disappointed with." encouraged Hermione.

Ron was not so restrained. "Bloody hell, Harry. Brilliant was more like it. You sure set the story straight on Umbridge, mate. She’ll be lucky to ever see the outside of Azkaban again."

There was a soft murmur of voices, drifting through the crowded chamber as the various individuals discussed the testimony with those sitting next to them. Soon, Madam Bones called the room back to order.

"I believe we are ready for a vote. All voting not guilty to the first charge of attempting the Cruciatus Curse?" Only six members of the Wizengamot raised their hands, Fudge being one of them. "Those in favor of conviction?" to which, all other hands in the room rose.

"Those voting not guilty to the second charge of use of that Blood Quill?" Again, the same six members raised their hands. "Guilty?" All hands were thrust into the air, some almost violently.

"Not guilty on the third count of improper dismissal of professors from the school?" This time there were many more hands raised, although still less than half. Many people thought this was more an internal matter for the school, not something for the Wizengamot. "Guilty?" The remaining balance of hands hovered in the air.

"Charge number four, the attack on Professors Hagrid and McGonagall. Not guilty?" A smattering of hands around the room found their way tentatively into the air. "Guilty?" Now, the majority of the hands were in the air.

"And finally, charge number five, interference with the proper delivery of the Owl post. Not guilty?" Not a single hand was raised for this, not even Fudge’s. "Guilty?" All hands in the room were waving in the air, as though to a gentle breeze.

"Ms. Dolores Jane Umbridge, the court finds you guilty on all counts. As a number of these charges carry terms defined by the law, we have very little leeway in regards to your sentence. However, and why I do not know, since you have been found guilty on all counts, Professors Hagrid, McGonagall, and Trelawney have graciously offered to waive any additional time that would have been garnered by charges three and four. Therefore, for the charge of attempting the Cruciatus Curse: 30 years in Azkaban. For the use of the Blood Quill: 25 years in Azkaban. And finally, for interfering with the lawful delivery of Owl Post: 5 years in Azkaban. Please take her away."

Umbridge’s screams of, "All for the ministry!" and "She had only done what was asked of her!", were drowned by the cheers of joy coming from the parents and students of Hogwarts. As the guards escorted her out, she pleaded with Minister Fudge to help her, but to no avail. He was busy heading for the door.

Arthur Weasley stepped over to Harry and clasped his shoulder, "See, Harry. Justice can be served. Sixty years in Azkaban! I do believe that will settle things down a bit at the school, don’t you?" and as he leaned close and whispered into Harry’s ear, "and maybe Fudge will think twice about sending another, eh?"

Molly came forward now and began ushering them to the door. "Now, all of you, back to the Burrow. I best be off to Diagon Alley to gather your things for the new school year." At once, everyone commenced to argue that they should be there to help, but Molly was having none of it. "Arthur and I are more than capable of carrying a few books. Moody and Shacklebolt will make sure you get back all right and will stay with you until we return. Now shoo! Off with you."

So under the watchful eye of Moody, the group made their way out of the ministry to what they now found was a bright and sunny day.

7. It's Good to be Home

Ms. Rowling, thanks for letting everyone out to play!

A/N – Reviews! Please! It’s disappointing to have an average of 200 hits per chapter yet only receive 1-2 reviews. If you like the story, leave a note. If you don’t like the story, leave a note anyway.

Chapter 6 – It’s good to be home

The loud thumping on the door accomplished little more than to have the two heads draw deeper under their covers. "Hey, up you two!" cried Ginny. "Oi, just a little longer" Ron managed to grumble from the depths of his bed. "No, NOW! If you don’t get moving you’re not going to have time for breakfast before we leave for the train, so I suggest you get moving Ron. Harry, you too." Ginny said sternly.

Ron muttered something about ‘respect for the dead’ as he struggled to find his way out of the python-like grip his coiled sheets had around him. Harry merely grinned and sought out his glasses lying on the nightstand. Oh, but to have to leave the Burrow and Molly’s wonderful cooking. Harry felt as though he had already gained a good five pounds in the short time he had been here with the Weasleys. Not that Molly was satisfied; "You’re much too thin, Harry dear, why you’re nothing but skin and bones," she would say while filling his plate with even more food.

As Ron had finally extracted himself from his bed, Harry grabbed a robe and together proceeded to wearily stagger from the room to the smell of sausage, ham, fresh biscuits, and eggs. The Weasley’s may not have been the richest wizarding family, but they never went hungry. It was part of what made the Burrow feel something like a home to him. That and the ever present hugs and kind words of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They made him feel wanted. Just like Sirius did – had. ‘Don’t go there Harry,’ his little voice called out, ‘Be happy and grateful for what you have,’ he thought, so he worked to force it out of his mind.

"Good morning, Harry, Ron," chirped Hermione. "Isn’t it such a beautiful day? A wonderful day for traveling," she added as she twirled around on her toes. "I suppose," grunted Ron with a mouthful of potatoes. Hermione and Ginny had obviously been up for some time. They were both dressed in their traveling clothes and had packed trunks already at the door. Just finishing up their breakfast, smiling with their standard issue impish grins, were Fred and George.

"Oh ickle Ronnykins, just how--"

"Are you going to survive--"

"Without us?" the twins proclaimed in their usual ping-pong fashion. "Good thing you’ll have Harry and Hermione there to help you," said George. The twins exchanges wicked glances. "Or is there someone else we should know about, eh?" added Fred.

"Off with you, you prats!" was all Ron had to say. Although their joke shop, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, had been doing quite well, Fred and George still stayed at the Burrow. This was their feeble attempt to appease their mother’s chagrin at their choice of profession.

Molly paused from her bustle around the kitchen. "Best hurry boys, Arthur will be here in an hour with the Ministry van. You two still need to clean up and bring your trunks down." Ron glanced up from his plate to Harry, who had the same guilty look on his face as Ron. Hermione couldn’t help but notice and hastened to add, "Best pack them first before bringing them down, I suppose? Honestly, what were you two doing up in the room last night?" Ron and Harry could only shrug.

A short time later, cleaned and packed, the boys brought their trunks down to the door just as Mr. Weasley pulled into the yard.

"Good morning, Harry!" called Arthur as he stepped out of the car, "Is everyone ready?" "Yes, Mr. Weasley and good morning, Mr. Moody" replied Harry as he saw Mad-Eye Moody step from the van. Mad-Eye was an Auror, in fact, one of the best, partly due to his paranoia, part to his mantra of ‘constant vigilance’, and a large part from the eye that has given him his nickname.

"Right then. Let’s get these trunks into the boot and we’ll be off!" said Arthur. As the troop got their trunks loaded, Harry was again thankful for the expanding enchantments used on the van’s interior. On the outside, the car appeared to be a common mini-van; however, on the inside it resembled more of a full sized bus. With Harry, Ron, and the help of the twins, in no time at all they had the trunks loaded and were ready for the road. As they pulled away from the Burrow, Harry couldn’t help but feel a little melancholy. Could this be the last time he saw the only place besides Hogwarts he felt he could call home? Could this be the year Voldemort makes good on the prophecy? ‘Don’t go there,’ his inner voice chided him once again, ‘Don’t go there,’.

The trip to Kings Cross went rather quickly. Everyone was in a talkative mood after Moody congratulated the twins on their prank on the Dursleys. "Teach ‘em a thing or two, it might. Too bad that lot won’t understand that it was the real them shine’n through.". Everyone tried to hide their smirks after that statement but found the harder they tried the more they burst into laughter. It was shaping up, as Hermione had said, to be a beautiful day.

After they unloaded and carted everything off to platform 9 ¾, where Arthur took the opportunity to pull Harry aside. Arthur frowned and looked intently at his shoes, "Harry, we’ve wanted to have a chat with you since you came to the Burrow, but the time never seemed right. Now… well I just feel I need to say this before a new year starts. Harry, I know it’s not your cup of tea staying with the Dursleys, especially after Sirius… well, after… but Harry you must…"

"It’s ok Mr. Weasley," interrupted Harry. "I’m fine, you…"

"No, Harry, let me finish" stated Arthur. "Harry, black hair or no, I want you to know that I love you as a son. There isn’t anything that Molly, I, or any of the family wouldn’t do for you. If we could, we would have you with us all of the time Harry. I know we can’t replace Sirius, and frankly, I wouldn’t even if I thought I could. I don’t believe it fair to his memory to try and do so. I know you feel somehow that you are to blame for Sirius. I also know from Ron, Hermione, and Ginny that they haven’t had much success in convincing yourself otherwise. But know this, Harry," he said in a soft but stern tone, "Sirius was and always had been his own man. You’ve heard the stories of your father, Sirius, and Remus during their days at Hogwarts. Do you think he would have stayed behind even if you had asked him?" Harry just shrugged. Mr. Weasley grasped his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Harry, what happened to Sirius was horrible to be sure, but it was nothing you could have stopped. You were there trying to protect and save someone you dearly love and he was doing what he loved for who he loved. Always remember that Harry."

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley and fought back the tears that threatened to well up and burst forth. He didn’t know what to say to Arthur. Consciously he knew it hadn’t been his fault, but that still didn’t seem to quench the guilt he had burning deep inside. He hadn’t grieved yet for Sirius. Not really. He had been whisked off to the Dursleys so quickly and now Mr. Weasley was telling him he loved him as a son. Harry was riding a roller coaster of emotions and didn’t know what to do other than hug Mr. Weasley and whisper a quiet "Thank you."

Harry had little time to dwell on his feelings when Molley ushered everyone onto the train as the final boarding whistle began to sound. With final farewells and words of reassurance from all, the train pulled away from the station.

The group slowly made their way down each car, looking for an unused compartment. "It looks like they’re all full, Harry," said Ron. "Wait, here’s one with only one person." called Hermione from down the hall. Opening the door, Hermione peered in and asked, "Excuse me? May the four us sit with you?" The girl, who turned and replied, had dull brown hair and rather plain looking robes and was someone Hermione had never seen before. "Sure, come on in. Might make for a less boring trip," she answered.

As the group settled in, Hermione made the introductions, "I’m Hermione, and this is Ron, Luna, and Harry." "Nice to meet all of you," was the simple reply from the unknown girl as she sat looking out the window. The four all glanced at one another with a look of puzzlement. With a shrug, Ron plopped down onto a seat and positioned himself for a quick kip.

The train steamed on through the rolling green countryside of England for some time. All their subtle, and some not so subtle, attempts at initiating a conversation with their unknown passenger were fruitless. Giving into the inevitable, Ron struck up a conversation with Harry about the upcoming Quidditch season. Likewise, Hermione and Luna occupied themselves in another corner with a spirited discussion on the possible existence of the Red Crested Thrumper. None of them could see the glint of a smile that had spread across the face of their secretive passenger.

"Luna, I just don’t see how you can believe in such things when there has never been even a single documented sighting," sputtered an exasperated Hermione. "Why do you waste your time on these pursuits when there are so many wonderfully alive and interesting creatures that you could study?"

"But it’s my time to waste, Hermione. To Muggles, none of the magical creatures we know so well exist. To them, most are simply myths. Who is to say that of our mythical creatures don’t exist? That’s why daddy tries so hard to write about them in the Quibbler," explained Luna in an earnest voice.

"What, afraid that the Lunatic might know something you don’t, Mudblood? Although, I would think that only a Muggle or Mudblood would believe anything written in that worthless rag," came a voice from the doorway, dripping with sarcasm.

"Sod off, Malfoy! You and your two slugs, go crawl back under your rock," replied Hermione, her eyes glaring like daggers.

"What do you want, Malfoy?! Leave, before you get hurt!" growled Harry, slowly reaching into his robes.

"What? I can’t come by a compartment and bid my fellow classmates hello now, Potter? Listen: you, Weasleby, and the Mudblood don’t have your bumbling Bumblebore here to interfere, so you best watch who you’re threatening," a very pompous Malfoy replied, reaching into his robe.

Without thinking, Harry had drawn his wand out and was pointing it at Draco, "The names are Dumbledore, Hermione, and Weasley, and you’d do well not to insult them in front of me."

"I don’t take orders, or threats, from the likes of you, Potter!" retorted a scowling Malfoy. What Draco didn’t notice were the surprised looks and stifled snickers that were beginning to erupt from the rest of the room’s occupants as Malfoy’s face began to transform into a somewhat cartoonish donkey. Further infuriated by the snickering that was now growing into outright hysterics, Draco opened his mouth to continue his tirade but "BeerrrAhhh" was all that came out.

The compartment now fell into utter chaos as nearly everyone was on the floor in debilitating laughter. The ruckus grew even more, as the group discovered that this particular donkey had the ability to turn a bright shade of red with steam pulsing out his ears in rhythm with the train.

Crabbe and Goyle quickly grabbed either side of Draco and tried to usher him back out into the corridor. "Braahhhg, BeerAhh," bellowed Malfoy as he struggled against his two goons.

"Oh…Oh H…Harry!" giggled Hermoine, "that was brilliant!"

"But…But…I…I thought…it was you…or… or Ron," said Harry, gasping for breath.

"No, it wasn’t us" replied Ron, with a face as red as his hair.

"But who then?" asked Hermione. As she started to look around the room, her eyes widened in surprise as her gaze fell upon their unknown traveler. "YOU! You…sneak!" she bellowed. Everyone now turned to look at the room’s grinning corner occupant, whose hair had turned an eye popping yellow with spikes of green. "Tonks!" they all exclaimed.

"Wotcher, Harry! I said the trip might be at bit less boring with this lot around," smiled their friend.

"But, what are you doing here?" asked Harry as he picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself off.

Tonks looked at the group and replied, "I’m here to keep an eye on you. You know, keep you out of trouble and such… amongst other things."

"What other… things?" queried a suspicious Harry.

"Say hello lads, and lassies, to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!" a sheepish Tonks replied.

"Whoa, that’s brilliant!" exclaimed Ron. "Finally, a Defense teacher who can teach us something… I mean, it’s not like Professor Lupin wasn’t great and all, but…well, he won’t come back and…"

"Ok, I get ya’ Ron. Thanks everyone." smiled Tonks as she slowly looked to each person in the room, "although I hadn’t expected you to serve me up Malfoy like that as a welcome gift."

The rest of the journey was spent trouble free, catching up on Tonk’s activities over the summer, re-reading Hogwarts – A History, in the case of Hermione, or being trounced by Ron in a game of Wizard’s Chess. Before they knew it, the train was pulling into Hogsmeade.

"Firs’ years down ‘ere!" came Hagrid’s familiar chant as they stepped off the train. " Allo ‘arry, Ron. ‘Allo Luna, and how is our ‘ermione? ‘ad a good summer now, di’ ya’?"

"Hello, Hagrid!" beamed Harry as he dropped his trunk to give him a hug. "Good, now that I’m back here with you and everyone else…" whereupon Harry’s face turned a little more glum as he realized that it wasn’t quite everyone.

Seeing Harry’s look of depression start to descend again, Hermione rushed in to give both Harry and Hagrid one of her bone crushing hugs. This was quite a feat, considering the fact that Hagrid towered over both of them with dimensions like that of a great oak tree. "Oh, it’s so good to see you again, Hagrid!" squealed Hermoine.

"Best be off then! I needs ta round up this ‘ere bunch of firs’ years an’ get ‘em down to the boats. I’ll see ya’ at the feast!" and with that he was off.

Ron, Luna, and Tonks had already loaded the trunks into a carriage and were waiting inside. Hermione watched sadly as Harry began to stroke the empty air at the front of what appeared to be the horseless carriage. She knew it wasn’t horseless at all, but pulled by Thestrals. The same great winged beasts that had carried them to the Ministry of Magic last year in their misguided attempt to rescue Sirius. Since she had been unconscious during the final fight and hadn’t seen Sirius’ death, she still couldn’t see the Thestrals. But Harry could. So much death he had been forced to witness. So much hurt in his life. A single tear began to roll down Hermione’s cheek as she gently grasped Harry’s hand and led him into the carriage. As if to an unheard call, the carriage rumbled forward and they left for the castle and a new year.

8. The Message Within

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all and rightfully so.

A/N: Hey, it’s me, Troll. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and leave a review! Elf is too busy with school to do more than short fics (which I think she is rather good at, but then, I’m biased. You be the judge.). Since this is my first adventure into writing (other than tech manuals, and they just don’t read the same…) it really is a boost to know people find it entertaining rather than irritating. We seem to have garnered a "following" of about 200 judging by the consistent number of hits per chapter. Thanks to all! Sorry if this one is a tad short.

Chapter 7 – The Message Within

After disembarking from the coach, the group made their way through the hallways of the castle to the Great Hall. A sense of familiarity overtook them as they entered the immense room with its banners of the four Hogwarts houses, long wooden tables, and floating candles. The enchanted ceiling unveiled the last subtle hues of the setting sun, the stars just beginning their evening dance across the sky. They made their way down the center aisle and found seats at the middle of the Gryffindor table.

Throughout the room a buzz of chatter could be heard as students discussed their summer events with those friends they had missed on the train. Harry glanced at the Slytherin table and saw that Malfoy had, unfortunately, returned to his normal appearance. He turned and looked now to the professors’ table to see that Hagrid had taken his seat. This meant that the boats had crossed the lake and the first years would be making their appearance at any moment. A chuckle then escaped his lips as Tonks, crossing the stage to her chair, collided with Snape and nearly knocked him to the floor. Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether the scowl on Snape’s face was due to Tonk’s clumsiness, her multicolored hair, or both.

The doors to the hall burst open and Professor McGonagall, trailing a long line of lost looking first years, made her way to the front. In her one hand was a plain wooden stool, in the other, was a rather ancient looking leather hat with large misshapen patches and a rip near the brim. The din of conversation fell to a hush as she placed the hat upon the stool and stepped away.

The rip on the hat opened wide and the Sorting Hat began its song:

Heed me not the previous year,

Of perils and deadly foes,

The dangers of divided houses,

Only increases but our woes.

Like cloudy days and moonless nights

The sadness within my heart,

Was kin to a hall of lifeless knights

As you bickered and grew apart.

But to a threat on each Hogwarts House,

Unite around each other you did, used your strengths in turn,

To aid each brother and sister you went,

And did this foe you spurn.

Great cunning it took to find

Some advantage this could fulfill

And to make use of this threat?

Why Slytherin fits the bill.

Ravenclaw of sharpest mind

Applied their guile and intellect

To appease the tyrants stand,

More than a match they were in all respect.

Bravest and the boldest

Were the students of Gryffindor,

So much in fact

Afraid was the tyrant to look behind the door.

Hard working Hufflepuff,

Diligent to say the least

Steadfast they were to the other houses

In helping to tame the beast.

But over it’s not, much do I fear,

Darker clouds there may be upon the realm

But again we can triumph

With a strong hand upon the helm.

Draw upon strength from within these walls

And others that challenge what’s been done

Having united around each other

You must also unite around the one.

Listen you will or won’t, as I am only a hat,

Tis you are the heirs of this mighty school,

So sort you into your houses I will,

For I don’t get to make the rule.

Professor McGonagall stepped to the front once again and one by one called the nervous first years forward to be sorted. Had they been that impossibly tiny as first years?

As he vaguely listened to the ceremony, Harry reminisced about his sorting into Gryffindor; how lost he had felt in what was then a wholly unfamiliar world, and pondered now how far he had come. He looked around the table at Hermione and Ron, his two closest friends, and shuddered at the thought at what the years would have been like without them. Before Hogwarts, when living with the Dursleys, he hadn’t been allowed to have friends; Dudley had scared them all away. He thought how lucky he was to have found such good friends here.

With the ceremony complete, and all of the first years now sorted into the four houses, Dumbledore stepped forth to the podium.

"I know you are all quite hungry and want to get on with the feast. Therefore, I will only say but a few words; hiccup and flubberwump." To the thunderous sound of the students’ applause and with a wave of his hands, the large tables were filled to the point of overflowing with delicious food. "Tuck in!" he exclaimed.

Harry grinned as he filled his plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron grabbing at anything within arm’s length. His stomach rumbled as he took a bite of chicken. Now, back at Hogwarts, the feelings of guilt and loss he had been experiencing since Sirius’s untimely demise were beginning to ebb.

"So, what did you think of the Sorting Hat’s song this year?" Hermione questioned as she ate a forkful of peas.

"Much the same as it was before, don’t you think?" Harry observed. "You know, talking about unity and all that? Joining together and fighting?"

Ron nodded. "Seems to be sort of a recurring theme, huh?"

"And with good reason!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation. "Both of you must see that it’s incredibly important that we unite! Things as insignificant as petty house rivalries will definitely not help us in the war against Voldemort! If we are going to win, we have to work together, all of us. I know you hate Malfoy and his cronies, I do too, but the word Slytherin does not mean evil." Ron started to protest. "Ronald Weasley, just because Voldemort was a Slytherin doesn’t mean all Slytherins are Dark. Aren’t you forgetting Peter Pettigrew? He was in Gryffindor, and look how he turned out!"

Ron nodded, slightly deflated. Their dinner continued normally, with the trio talking about what had happened to them over the summer.

"I had a relatively quiet summer," Hermione said, "I just did homework and studied this year’s course books."

"Of course," Ron muttered. Hermione glared at the red-head, and he smiled sheepishly. "Our house was actually relatively peaceful, too. Now that the twins have their own jokeshop, they’re not blowing things up in their room. Dad was working at the Ministry a lot of the time, and Mum went back and forth between the Burrow and Grimmauld Place." Harry winced at the mention of Sirius’ old house. "Blimey, sorry Harry."

"It’s okay, Ron."

"How was your summer, Harry?" Hermione asked, quickly attempting to change the subject.

"Unusually quiet, as a matter of fact. The Dursley’s were petrified of Mad-Eye, so they decided to leave me alone. Basically ignored me the entire summer. Finally." Harry grinned. "They even let me do my homework."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "And that’s a good thing?" Hermione pursed her lips, very much like McGonagall, and smacked him on the shoulder. Ron clutched his arm in mock injury, pouted, and went back to eating.

Later, after Ron was finally full, the trio headed off towards Gryffindor Tower. With Hermione and Ron leading the way as prefects, they explained to the awed first years the quickest route to the tower, about the perils of changing stairways, and how best to avoid Peeves. Harry chuckled at the confused looks on their faces.

They quickly reached the common room and the massive portrait that guarded its entrance.

Acknowledging them all with a slight nod, "Password?" the Fat Lady asked in her grand voice.

"Phoenix Light," Hermione said promptly. The portrait hole swung open to reveal the common room. It looked exactly the same as it had the year before. The fire cracked merrily, casting shadows on the surrounding chairs. Glancing around at the familiar setting, Harry knew he was home.

Ron and Hermione quickly showed the first years their dormitories, before collapsing with Harry onto some nearby armchairs.

"I don’t know ‘bout you guys, but I’m beat," yawned Harry. "You know, I still wonder if Dumbledore puts some sort of sleeping draught into the food. I’m always so tired after the sorting ceremony."

Hermione nodded with drooping eyes. "I think I’ll head off to bed now. Good night, you two."

"Night!" they chorused. "I think it’s time we headed to bed too, Harry," added Ron.

"Probably right mate, but I’m going to sit for a bit," as Harry slipped into the chair in front of the fire.

"Ok, but don’t stay up too late. Morning will be here soon enough." And with that Ron disappeared up the stairs.

With a solemn sigh, Harry sat staring into the dancing flames of the fire, a small part of him expecting to see Sirius’s head pop out and ask, "So, how have you been, Harry? Pulled any good pranks lately? And, just what is it with Hermione, hmm?" ‘Where did that come from’ thought Harry. He knew that Sirius wasn’t coming back, but deep inside he just couldn’t admit it to himself, Hermione, Ron, anyone. He knew that’s why they tiptoed around him like some fragile crystal. They had accepted it, why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he just let go… ‘damn it Sirius, why did you have to come after me? Why couldn’t you just stay put! If I hadn’t let Voldemort play me like a fiddle, you would still be here. Where are you damn it, I need you, Sirius!"

As the tears streamed down Harry’s cheeks, reflecting the dancing light of the fire, a lone figure standing at the base of the stairway heard a soft whisper, "I don’t think I can do this alone. It hurts too much, Sirius. I’ve lost mum and dad, you, and I almost lost Ron and Hermione. That damned prophecy, Sirus. I just don’t know if I can do it."

"You’re not alone, Harry" came a soft voice from behind him, as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. "You’re never going to be alone Harry because I won’t let you be. I’ll always be there with you. So will, Ron. You can keep trying to push us away, Harry, but it won’t work. You’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not," finished Hermione.

Wiping away the tears in the hope she wouldn’t notice, Harry retorted, "But it’s a death sentence, Hermione. Everyone I care for, he eventually comes after. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to you… or Ron."

"We know that, Harry. It doesn’t matter, he’ll come for us anyway. You know that. I’m a Muggle-born and Ron’s family are members of the Order, so we’re marked anyway." A stream of tears was now falling from Hermione and Harry slowly brought his hand up to cup her face and wipe her eyes. "Harry, I… I’m your friend. Friends don’t abandon one another. We would rather fight along side you than on our own. I…I’m so sorry, Harry. I…" Hermione stammered as she spun around with her hands to her face and ran for the stairs.

Harry, slowly rose from his chair and looked around the common room. He focused on the table where they studied, the chair where Hermione spent her days reading, and the chessboard where Ron stood out alone. Slowly climbing the stairs to the boy’s dorm, he pondered, ‘Is she right? But, what about the prophecy? In the end, it must be him or me. How can I let them put themselves at risk?"

Burrowing further under his covers, Harry was slow to fall asleep, with Hermione’s words thundering through his thoughts, the anticipation and dread of the first day of classes, and of the terror he feared yet to come.

9. What a Day

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would currently be rolling around in insanely large piles of money. Since I only have about five dollars to my name, I somehow don’t see that happening. Don’t own it, don’t sue me: everyone’s happy!

Chapter 8 – What a day.

Harry awoke to the deep, hurricane like sounds of Ron snoring in the corner. Peeking out from under his covers to the window, he saw there was a misty gray pallor to the sky. ‘I hope this day fares better then the weather,’ thought Harry.

After gathering his things for a quick run through the showers, Harry stopped and attempted to rouse Ron. "Come on Ron. Time to face the day," he said as he pulled the covers down. Ron muttered something about how cold it was in Australia and started to slither down the bed is search of the missing blankets. "Ron! Time to get up or you’ll miss breakfast. Food, Ron! Food!" called Harry. ‘There that should work. Food always gets his attention,’ thought Harry as he made his way to the boys loo.

Harry and Ron eventually made there way to the Great Hall and found Hermione already there. "You look well rested this morning," commented Harry as he took his seat across from her. "And you don’t," she replied. "Oh, Harry. Are you still having nightmares?"

"No, I just had a lot on my mind, I guess," Harry muttered as he peered at Hermione over his spectacles. "Just as well, I guess. I doubt if my body would know how to react to a good nights sleep."

Glancing up from her toast, Hermione mumbled, "Nothing wrong there".

Before Hermione’s comment sank into Harry’s morning sodden brain, a flurry of owls descended on the room, each carrying either a package of forgotten school items or the usual first day ‘I miss you already’ letter.

A large brown owl swooped down and landed next to Hermione. Reaching over, she removed the copy of the Daily Prophet from its leg and dropped a knut in the owl’s pouch.

"Why are you still getting that rag, ‘Mione?" asked Ron. "The ministry already admitted that Vol…Vol… oh bloody hell, you-know-who is back."

"As if it’s any concern of yours, Ron, but I want to keep an eye on them. You never know what that idiotic Fudge might do."

Tilting his head to one side, as though he needed the blood to pool to that side in order to ponder this, Ron replied, "Aye, you do have a point there I guess."

It wasn’t long before they noticed the change in timbre of the conversations going on around the room. Professor McGonagall had appeared at the front of the table, passing out the class schedules to all of the Gryffindors. She greeted them with a smile as she approached, "Tis good to see you again Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Have a good summer, all of you?"

"Yes," they all replied. "And you Professor?" queried Hermione.

"Yes, quite relaxing, thank you Miss Granger. Here are your schedules; and Mr. Weasley, please come by my office after your final class. I would like to discuss the upcoming Quidditch season with you. Good day, you three."

Harry looked down at his schedule and moaned, "Double Potions, Herbology, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts on alternate days; Care for Magical Creatures, double Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts again, and double Charms on the other days. Oh, my head hurts already. What about you two?"

Hermione’s was even worse with a double Arithmancy thrown in for good measure. Ron at least had been spared potions and was actually looking forward to his Muggle Studies class.

"Well, we best be off I suppose. We certainly don’t want to be late for Snape’s class," said Hermione as she rose from her seat.

"I’ve got Muggle studies first" added Ron heading for the door, "See you two later in Herbology."

Harry and Hermione made their way through the cathedral like halls to the small and depressing dungeons where their Potions class was located. The deeper down the stone stairways they went, the more hushed their footsteps became, the dimmer the sunlight. As though this was a forbidden land of eternal still and darkness. Harry’s unease mounted with each step, as though he was the condemned being led to the gallows. Noticing his quiet hesitancy, Hermione asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing, Hermione," Harry grumbled as he stared at the floor.

Grabbing his arm and pulling him into the corner next to the classroom door, Hermione looked at him, "Harry, this is me, Hermione, remember? Your best friend? I know when something’s bothering you, now out with it!"

Harry studied the stonework of the wall, as though, if he only looked hard enough, on it he would find the answers to everything. Giving in to the inevitable, he turned to her, "I guess… well, it’s just that… well, Snape was miserable before. What is he going to be like now that he is being forced to accept me in his class?" he answered with defeated eyes.

"I know, Harry. This isn’t going to be easy, but you must keep your temper this year. Our studies are going to be hard enough and you don’t want to fall behind because you’re in detention with Snape."

"You’re right, I suppose. I’m just glad that you’re here to help keep me out of trouble. I don’t know what…"

"My, but isn’t this quaint! Scarhead and his mudblood," interrupted Draco. "Don’t tell me you were actually accepted into Potions, Potter! I thought Professor Snape had higher standards than that. I can understand him cutting the mudblood a little slack because, well… because she’s a mudblood, but you on the other hand…"

"That will suffice, Mr. Malfoy" the deep, sarcastic voice of Professor Snape began. "Potter," the malevolent voice added, "quit lurking in the shadows and proceed to your seat or I’ll be forced to take points away from Gryffindor even before class begins."

Quickly, Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and led him into the classroom before he could respond. They made their way into the classroom to their usual seats to find that they were the only Gryffindors in the room. This didn’t bode well, Harry thought.

Strolling, with a hint of swagger, Snape made his way to the front of the room. Turning with a flourish, he looked around the room, "Welcome to NEWTs level Potions. All that you have learned in your previous five years has been but to prepare you for this. All… excuse me," pausing to glare down at Harry with a deeply dark, vindictive sneer, "most of you have achieved the required level of proficiency in the precise art of potions making that allows you the privilege of attending this class. You will work harder and study longer than you ever have before. Make no mistake; I do not care about your other classes, how much work they give you, if you are on the Quidditch team, or if your pet is ill. My class is the only thing that matters to me. If you cannot comply with these requirements or are unable to rise to the challenge, you will be dismissed from this class. Do I make myself clear?"

Silence dominated the room as everyone, even Malfoy, nodded their heads in hesitant acknowledgement.

"Good. You have the remaining time to produce the potion on the board," and with a wave of his wand, the longest potion they had ever seen appeared on the board, "you had best… hurry."

Harry and Hermione both grabbed their cauldrons and began discussing the next steps. As Harry took a step away from the table to begin gathering the needed ingredients, Snape stopped him. Looking between Harry and Hermione he began with a very condescending lilt, "No, I don’t think this will do, Mr. Potter. No, I don’t think this will do at all. The table for students on probation shall be… that one back there, in the corner."

As they both started to gather their things to move to the back table, Snape turned to Hermione with a stern look, "Miss Granger, are you on probation as well? If so, it is news to me. As much as it pains me to break up this little… duet, you shall remain here. Now, I recommend you start gathering your ingredients, as you haven’t much time. You, Mr. Potter, over to your own desk."

As Snape walked away, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm, looked him in the eyes, and shook her head from side to side. "Don’t, Harry! He’s just looking for an excuse to toss you out of his class. Don’t give it to him. Just ignore him and do the work, Harry. You can do this if you just pay attention and try. Ok?"

As the blaze of hatred in Harry’s eyes began to subside, he gave her a strained smile and gathered his things in silence.

Harry did his best to maintain his composure throughout the rest of the class. At least Snape didn’t taunt him any more, that is unless sitting at his desk and fuming at Harry counted. Hermione’s mere presence allowed him to refrain from doing something really stupid. Why was she always able to calm him down like that, he thought? No one else could, not even Ron.

The completed potion was to be a thin, bubbling, deep forest green. "Well, at least this isn’t a complete disaster," he muttered, stepping back to assess his creation. Although its consistency reminded him of the thick, boiling mud pools one found near volcanoes, the potion simmering within the cauldron was at least of a light pea green color. To his relief, Snape hadn’t vanished it outright, but had awarded a half point and assigned him two feet of parchment to explain his mistakes.

Hermione sensed that Harry was depressed about his dismal showing and quickly joined him at the door as they began their way to Herbology. "Well, things are looking up," she began with a smile.

Stopping mid-step, with a look of extreme bewilderment, Harry asked, "And just how is that?"

"Well, a half point is more than he would have given you last year, don’t you think?"

"Yeah, I suppose," was he could muster.

Herbology was with Ron and was a bit more interesting. They would be studying medicinal plants this year, which with the return of the Dark Lord, seemed a potentially useful thing.

"Now who can tell me from what type of tree this branch is from?" boomed professor Sprout. Instantly, Neville’s hand flew into the air. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom."

"That, I believe, is a Willow branch, Professor."

"Right, and do you also know what it is used for?"

"Well, I’m not quite sure, but I know some wands are made from Willow."

"Quite right, Mr. Longbottom, but does anyone else know what can it be used for?" whereupon, Hermione’s hand came up.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"The bark of the Willow branch contains Salicylic acid and was used by early European muggles in a similar manner as Aspirin is used today. But in the magic world, if the bark is combined with finely crushed limestone, grasshopper legs, and clear spring water it produces a rudimentary poultice that can be used to treat burns caused by hexes."

"Excellent! Because you both were correct, and for also describing the Muggle use of the Willow branch, twenty points for Gryffindor," answered Professor Sprout to a beaming Hermione and Neville.

"Blimey, where on earth did you learn that ‘Mione?" asked Ron. "I mean, is that something I’m going to have to learn in Muggle Studies? Muggle Potions?"

"No, don’t be silly, Ron. Muggles don’t have potions. Well, not like we have potions anyway. My parents taught it to me. We were on a picnic one day and were talking about the trees, and, well being dentists, they know this kind of thing."

Professor Sprout handed out various sizes of the long, supple, Willow branches and the students spent their time practicing extraction of the light inner bark. Ron soon found that he had rather a knack for peeling the bark from the twig in one continuos piece. "All those times I was in trouble, my mum would make me peel potatoes by hand," he groused, "I guess it paid off."

As the three made their way back to the Great Hall for lunch, Neville caught up with them. "Harry," he started, looking around to see whom was near, "are you going to start up the DA again?"

"It’s okay, Neville, you don’t have to whisper. Yeah, I am. Dumbledore is making it a real club this year. We just have to allow everyone in now, Slytherin included," replied Harry.

"Oh… does… does that mean Malfoy will be there too?"

With a lopsided grin, Harry looked at Neville, "I suppose he might be. But don’t worry Neville, you’re much better than he is. I hope you will still come, whether he’s there or not."

Neville’s worried look faded away, he walked a little taller, and a smile appeared that stretched his face to the breaking point. "Thanks, Harry. I will!"

As Neville practically bounded away, Hermione nudged Harry in the ribs. "That was a rather nice thing to say, Harry. It really helped Neville’s confidence."

"I meant it, Hermione. He improved far more than anyone else did last year. He just needs some self confidence."

"Oi, considering where he started from, he needed a lot of improvement," added Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, "It’s comments like that which destroy any confidence he might have. I think it would be rather interesting to watch you duel against him in the next DA meeting. You just might be eating your words!"

As the three sat down in the Great Hall for their lunch, Hermione and Harry noticed that Ron had gotten rather quiet. Although his plate was a towering conglomerate of food from all dishes within arm’s reach, he wasn’t attacking it with his usual gusto and aversion to good manners.

Whereas she was apparently safe from an inadvertent fork jab while reaching for a food platter, Hermione was becoming concerned. "Is there something wrong, Ron? You’re not mad at me now, are you?"

Ron looked up from his meal and peered at Hermione and Harry, "No. But, well, now that you mention it… I was kind of wondering if you two could help me with something. I mean, well I can’t seem to figure it out. I’ve been trying all morning, but I can’t get it to work…"

"Can’t get what to work, Ron. What are you talking about?" asked Harry.

"Oh, sorry. They gave us this "pin" in Muggle Studies and said we had to do all of the homework with it. I just can’t seem to get it to work, I mean, I dipped it in ink and all, but it just made a bloody mess."

As Ron pulled his ink covered ballpoint pen from his bag, Harry and Hermione fought with everything they could muster to keep from laughing in the face of their best friend. They looked at the table. They looked to the ceiling. They looked at each other… and lost it.

"Oh, bloody hell. See if I ask you two for help again," barked an indignant Ron.

"Ron, please…haha… we’re sorry…eep," stammered a very red faced Hermione, "Here, I’ll show you." Reaching across the table, napkin in hand, she took the pen from Ron and gave it a good cleaning. "Ron, first off, this is called a ballpoint pen, not a pin. You don’t have to dip it into ink; the ink is inside already. See you just press on this little button here and the point comes out the other end. Now you can write with it."

Ron simply stared, his mouth hanging open, "Oh, never tried that. Thanks, Hermione."

They were quick to finish their lunch so they could arrive early for Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was going to be their first day with Tonks and they didn’t want to miss a minute. Since, due to Umbridge, their fifth year DADA class was an utter waste, they were anxious to learn from someone they new had held her own against all the Death Eaters Voldemort had sent her way.

The three made their way into the classroom and found a desk midway up the room. Even if the room was still a bit dim and foreboding, it looked much better than when Umbridge had been the Professor. She had swept the room of most anything that might have been related to the dark arts or useful against it for that matter. Tonks, it appeared, had brought back all of the things that Professor Lupin had used, and more. In fact, the room was bordering on claustrophobic. In some places were heaps of boxes, crates, papers, and bags piled so high, if one could stand on them, you could look the dragon skeleton in the eye.

Everyone jumped when the door to the classroom suddenly burst open, bounced off the wall, then slammed shut once again on who ever had attempted to enter.

The silence following this commotion was finally broken by a collective gasp heard throughout the room as a primal urge to breathe began to exert itself.

Again, the door opened, this time in a more dignified manner. Within the doorway stood a regal looking Tonks, sporting dark blue hair, a burnt orange robe, and rubbing a red mark on her forehead where the rebounding door had obviously connected.

"Good afternoon class! My name is Professor Tonks," she began, making her way to the front of the room, "I am you new Defense Against the –", but she never made it.

Tonks was now sprawled out flat on the floor, having tripped over the last desk.

The room fought hard to refrain from laughing, all that is but Malfoy. "A regular train wreck this one is. Hope she teaches better than she walks," he chortled.

Tonks carefully raised herself from the floor and dusted herself off. Looking straight at Draco, she slowly walked over and spread her hands across the top of his desk. He began to panic now, envisioning his possible life as a bouncing white ferret. Seeing that she now had Malfoy’s undivided attention, Tonks leaned over to within inches of his face and let out a deafening "Hee Haa!"

"You might do well to pay attention in my class, Mr. Malfoy. If the defensive abilities that you exhibited on the Tee-rain," which she pronounced like a donkey’s brae, "are any indication of your proficiency. You have nothing to be pompous about."

Turning back to the class, "Now where were we… ah, yes. My name is Professor Tonks, and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. For those of you who don’t know me, I am an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Although I am here in somewhat of a dual role, as an Auror and Professor, my duty is to prepare you all for the dark days that are coming. I am sadly aware of the previous professor’s lack of instruction and how far behind this has placed you. But ‘eh, we’ll fix that. Not to worry."

"Now we will be focusing on the proper casting of curses, hexes, and spells, as well as the defenses against them. Depending on how far we get through the year I’ll try and cover elementary wards. Now everyone, pair up!"

Harry quickly looked over and caught Neville’s attention. "Hey, Neville. Would you like to join up, since there’s only three of us?"

"Are ya’ sure, Harry? I mean… well, yes, I guess I would. Thanks, Harry!"

"Here’s your chance to show us your stuff, Ron," Harry said with a grin.

Neville and Ron paired together near the windows with Harry and Hermione next to them. Harry was a little nervous pairing off with Hermione. What if he hurt her, or worse yet, made her mad? That… would not be good, he thought.

But as though she could read his mind, which he sometimes believed was a real possibility, this train of thought was unceremoniously derailed, "Harry Potter! I know what you’re thinking. Don’t you dare hold back on me! I want your best. How am I to improve if you keep holding back?" Harry could only respond with a lopsided grin, since she had in fact figured out the truth.

Tonks assessed the class’s different levels of proficiency by having them practice simple spells and counter curses for the rest of the day. It became quickly evident to Harry, and Tonks as well, that those who had been members of the DA found this quite boring. These were all things that Harry had drilled them on relentlessly during their clandestine meetings in the Room of Requirement.

At the end of the class, Tonks congratulated them on a job well done. She also announced that the DA, as a legitimate club this time, would be beginning as soon as she and Harry were able to work out the details. As the rest of the students gathered their things and filed out the door, Tonks pulled the three aside.

"Wotcher, Harry! I say, it don’t take but one eye to see who was in the DA. It was pretty obvious from watch’n the class. You’re a pretty good teacher, Harry. Come by tomorrow night and we’ll talk about what you want to do. See ‘ya latter!" and with that she was off.

Ron turned to the others as he closed the door to the classroom, "I suppose I should head to McGonagall’s office, since she did say she wanted to talk about this year’s Quidditch team. Any recommendations then, Harry?"

"Well, it’s pretty much a scratch now isn’t it. Since Katie, you, and I are the only ones still here, we’re going to have to hold tryouts, I suppose. Hey Ron, Ginny did a brilliant job as chaser when we played at the Burrow. What do you think? I know she would be interested."

"I don’t know, Harry. Playing at home is one thing, but do you think she’d listen to me as Captain? She can be pretty stubborn if you haven’t noticed."

"No more than some other Weasleys we know!" huffed an indignant Hermione. "She has just as much right to try out as anyone else, Ronald. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions."

"Hermione’s right, Ron. Ginny would be fine." Seeing that Ron was concentrating on using his foot to remove an imaginary spot of dirt from the polished marble floor, Harry knew that there was more to this than Quidditch, "Is there something else you’re worried about?"

Taking a quick glance at Hermione, Ron looked up at Harry, "Well… you see… I mean it’s just me this year, Harry. Fred and George aren’t here to help me look out for her. It’s… well, mum made me promise…"

"Don’t worry, Ron," Hermione added with a bit of sympathy in her eye. It was no secret that Ron, all his siblings actually, felt a deep seated need to watch over and protect their only sister. It was one of Ron’s most endearing, and at times exasperating, qualities. Ron had been near frantic when Riddle had spirited her away into the Chamber of Secrets. She also knew what it was like to have Molly extract a promise from you about something, "Look at it this way, where better to keep an eye on Ginny than by having her there with you on the Quidditch pitch?"

"I suppose. Besides, Harry’s right. She would make a bloody good chaser. Ok, I’ll talk to McGonagall about it. I’ll meet you two back in the Common Room, before dinner. Alright, then." and with that decision seemingly resolved in his mind, he was off.

As they slowly made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, neither one spoke. Both knew that Ron’s admission had provided the other a reminder of the previous night’s emotional events. As the portrait of the Fat Lady drew aside the entrance hole, Hermione broke through Harry’s thoughts by reaching out and giving his hand a light squeeze. "It will be ok, Harry. Let’s just focus on our homework, alright?"

Stepping through the portrait hole, Harry responded with a gentle squeeze of her hand and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Ok. Maybe I could convince you to explain where it was I went wrong today in Potions? I do have two feet to write you know."

"Yes, Mr. Potter. I do believe I could be convinced to do that. Just don’t ask me to write it for you," she responded with a smile as they settled in at the long table at the side of the room.

It wasn’t long before Ron stepped through the portrait hole and waived at them to head down to the Great Hall. "McGonagall agreed that Ginny would make a good chaser but said she’ll have to try out for the team like everyone else. She wants me to post a note in the Common Room announcing tryouts for a week from Wednesday. Harry, I’m going to need your help to make these decisions. You’ll help me won’t you, mate?"

"Sure, Ron, I wouldn’t miss it," Harry said with a lop-sided grin as they entered the Great Hall.

After a filling meal of roasted lamb and mint potatoes they made their way back to the tower. It had been a long, and in the case of Snape, grueling day. But they had survived their first day back and although two of them still had a git for a potions instructor, they didn’t have Umbridge to deal with.

In the common room, the three settled in for what appeared could be a long night of attempting to subdue their homework. Grinning silently to each other from opposite sides of the table, Harry and Hermione watched as Ron feverishly attempted to master the complexities of a three-ring binder, loose leaf paper, and a ballpoint pen. They weren’t called Nasty Excruciating Wizarding Tests for no reason, they supposed.

10. THRIBT

Disclaimer: Only the new character introduced in this chapter is mine, Ms. Rowling owns all the rest of the Harry Potter universe. We thank her for letting them come out and play.

Chapter 9 - THRIBT

The brilliant morning sunlight streamed in through the window and brought Harry to consciousness. He had been dreaming of he, Ron, and Hermione walking through the stores of Hogsmeade on what seemed to be an enjoyable weekend outing, yet he had woke with a nervous empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

‘Must be getting hungry,’ he thought as he rolled out of bed.

As the remnants of his dream slowly floated into the mists, Harry began the morning ritual of loudly trying to wake Ron. Seeing that he was making little headway, he enlisted the aid of both Dean and Seamus who were now making their way around the room.

"On the count of three, everyone," he announced as the three pointed their wands at the snoring lump. "One…Two… Three…Aquilus!" Icy jets of water poured forth from the three wands at the now bellowing Ron.

"Oi! Ok! Ok! I’m awake! Bloody hell, did ya’ have to use such cold water? I mean all you had to do was give me a little shake, Harry!"

"What? Oh sorry Ron, that never seemed to occur to me," a snickering Harry responded as the three cohorts and one, rather wet Ron, started to gather their things and head for the showers.

After completing their morning rituals, the four made their way down from the tower to find Hermione and Ginny waiting for them in the common room. Joining together, the team of Gryffindors made their way along to the Great Hall while discussing the torture of yesterday’s classes and the potential for the misery yet to come.

Their entrance into Great Hall was greeted by warm welcomes from Luna and others at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, while the cold stares they received from Malfoy and the rest of Slytherin crashed over them like an icy North Sea storm.

Breakfast was a bit slower and somewhat quieter for all the students, as the exuberance of the first day had worn off. Ginny, Dean, and Seamus had begun a discussion about Gryffindor’s chances in this year’s Quidditch season, while Hermione reviewed her morning delivery of the Daily Prophet with Harry. All the while, Ron quietly piled food onto his plate to such a height that his reputation as Über Eater would forever remain unchallenged.

"Really, Ron," Hermione began as they started down the steps to Hagrid’s hut for the Care of Magical Creatures, "I think we should have Madam Pomfrey examine you for a serious illness or something. I mean, it’s not normal and seems to have gotten worse over the years."

"What isn’t normal, Hermione? So what did I do now?"

"Ron, you ate enough to feed Hagrid. It is a bit shocking how you can appear so normal on the outside, but be so… I don’t know, empty on the inside. Are you ever full?" responded Harry.

"What, empty headed am I now! A fine thing for one’s best friends to say," a smirking Ron retaliated, as he pulled another biscuit out of his pocket.

"You now what we mean, Ron," interjected Hermione.

"I’m just a growing boy, says mum. She told me Charlie was the same way and it didn’t do him any harm now did it?"

"We’re just afraid if you keep up, you’re going to be as big has Hagrid," replied Harry.

"Big as me? Who? Ye’ got someone hid away now ‘arry?"

"Oh, hello, Hagrid!" began Hermione as he attempted to embrace him in one of her trademark hugs, "No, we were just advising Ron that with as much as he eats, if he keeps growing he’s going to end up as big as you."

"Eh? And would ‘er be any thing wrong wi’ that?" he grinned.

"No, of course not," responded Hermione with a bit of a pout. Seeing that the rest of the class was now gathering around, she asked "Hagrid, what do you have in mind for us this year. Please, something a little more civilized than Blast Ended Skrewts!" she added with a tone of concern, yet a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Now wha’ was wrong with Blast Ended Skrewts, I ask? They was a bi’ of fun now weren’t they? Anyway, now that everyone is ‘er, I’ll tell ya’. This year were gonna be raising and learn’n about… Jarvey’s!" Hagrid bellowed like old St. Nick announcing Christmas. "Now, who can tell me anythin’ about a Jarvey?"

The members of the class looked amongst themselves to find only shrugging shoulders and shaking heads. This meant, of course, that they all turned to Hermione.

"Oh, bloody h--heck! One might think that people might read something other than Quidditch scores once in a while. Well, let’s see. A Jarvey is very much like a large ferret and has the magical ability of speech. Although, whether their ability is based on intelligence or simply mimicry like a Parrot, I’m not sure."

‘Eh? Not intelligent, she says! A bit pompous these ones are now, aren’t they? Just because they can wave those twigs around and walk on two legs, they think they’re the end of the evolutionary chain! HA! One would think that with all that intelligence she’d be able to do something more constructive with that hair! Really now, I’ve seen birds nests…’

But Hagrid cut him off when he noticed Hermione becoming rather red and was beginning to reach for her wand, "THRIBT! That’ll do now. Hermione, everyone, this ‘er is THRIBT and he’s a Jarvey. Say ‘lo everyone."

"Hello, THRIBT" everyone replied, looking to the Jarvey.

‘My, don’t they mimic rather well. I say, it almost seems as if there were actual thought processes occurring behind those blank stares. Hmm, this is your brightest class you say, Hagrid? Oh my, this doesn’t bode well at all. ‘Tis a shame, really. And, incidentally, my name is Thaddeus Horatio Rufus Ignatius Bellows Trillings. Only my friends may call me THRIBT. And considering you do not fall into that category, you may address me by my proper name. So, though I rather doubt it, I do hope you were actually listening.’

"Bloody hell," a grinning Ron exclaimed, "first it was Skrewts trying to kill us, then it was the Centaurs, now it’s a cheeky… furball! This ought to be right fun for a change! Oi, if Fred and George were only here. Welcome to the class… THRIBT!"

‘That’s Thaddeus Horatio Rufus Ignatius Bellows Trillings to you, young man. Weren’t you listening at all during the past five minutes? Or does that ghastly red hair of yours cause you to suffer from a weak memory?’

"Weak memory," Harry said, laughing. Ron elbowed him, and turned towards the Jarvey.

"I do not! Your name was just rather long, is all. I couldn’t remember all… six parts only hearing it once, now could I?

‘Apparently not. I say, Hagrid, if this is the best you have to offer…’

By now, the entire class was either laughing hysterically or staring dumbly at the talking animal. Harry was in tears from stifling his laughter, while Ron was staring crossly at the Jarvey. Hagrid hurried forward.

"All right, you lot. That’ll be enough for now. Now, everyone, ‘er assignment will be three feet of parchment describing Jarveys, where and how the live, and any unique traits about you new… ‘er… partner. ‘ermione, ‘arry, and Ron, you three will be working ‘er with, TRHRIBT. The rest of ya’, come on over ‘er and I’ll introduce ya’ to the rest of the Jarvies."

After a spirited discussion, primarily between TRHRIBT and Hermione, who the Jarvey proclaimed was the only one of any measurable intelligence in the group, the trio said goodbye to Hagrid, and began the walk towards the castle. Harry smothered a chuckle as he noticed the indignation on Ron’s face.

"Stupid, overgrown ferret." The red-head muttered.

"Oh come now, Ron. You must admit, Jarvey’s are very interesting creatures, especially this one. I knew that Jarvey’s were capable of speech, but I thought that they were more… crude. This one was much more intelligent than I would have thought."

"Well of course it is." Harry said. "It’s Hagrid’s, isn’t it? His creatures have to be abnormal in some way. A bit of an unwritten rule, I think."

They started up the stairs, heading towards their next class, Transfiguration. Hermione, of course, was excited.

"Oh, I can’t wait to see what we’ll be learning this year! Professor McGonagall’s classes are always so interesting!"

Ron and Harry glanced at each other. Interesting was not the word that they would have used to describe McGonagall’s class. Hard, exasperating, and near impossible were.

When they reached the classroom, Hermione eagerly swung open the door and hurried inside. Harry and Ron followed more reluctantly. As they approached their desks, McGonagall turned to Harry,

"Mr. Potter, I trust you made good use of your book over the summer?"

Harry grinned, and nodded. The professor gave him a rare smile. "Good. Now, if everyone would please take your seats, we will begin."

Everyone sat down, looking ahead with varying expression of eagerness and dread.

"Very good. This year, we will be focusing on the art of conjuring. Now, the simpler the object you are attempting to conjure is, the easier it will be. So, we will begin with a button. The incantation is ‘Videor’. Simply add whatever object you want to conjure after Videor. For example, to conjure a button you would say, ‘Videor button’." As she said the incantation, she waved her wand, and a bright green button appeared on the desk in front of her. "Now, you try."

The rest of the class was spent attempting, without much success, to conjure their buttons. By the time class ended, Hermione was the only one to successfully conjure what was clearly a button. Harry, had managed something akin to dinner plate with a single hole in it, while Ron’s, though it started out as a quite fine looking button, now looked more like a lump of molten slag.

As the trio headed to their next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione exclaimed enthusiastically, "Oh, wasn’t that an interesting class?"

Harry and Ron groaned. "Yeah, Hermione, you could actually do it. For the rest of us, it was just annoying."

"Even so, conjuring is very useful," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "You can conjure furniture, or food, or any sort of item you may need."

"We know, ‘Mione." Ron snapped as they walked into the Defense classroom. "That doesn’t stop it from being hard though, does it?"

"No, I don’t suppose," Hermione sighed as they sat. A few moments later they heard a thump, followed by a muttered, "Ouch!" The class stifled their laughter as Tonks limped in.

"Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Tonks," they chorused.

"Today we’re going to continue our practice of curses and hexes. Please, separate into your pairs and begin."

Harry joined with Hermione and the rest of the period was spent dodging and blocking the fire hose of hexes she hurled his way. Since this really didn’t require much conscious thought for Harry, he observed the rest of the students as they practiced. He felt a surge of pride as he watched the D.A. members. Most were very skilled in defending themselves, especially shields. Neville, he noticed was actively serving up a large dishing of crow for Ron. His thoughts were suddenly broken when an exceptionally powerful Expelliarmus hit him, and his wand flew out of his hand.

Hermione caught his wand when it flew towards her, grinning smugly. "Honestly, Harry, where has your mind gone?" He grinned sheepishly as she tossed his wand back to him and they began dueling again. Learning a valuable lesson, Harry kept his full mind on the task this time.

After the lesson was over, the trio headed to the Great hall for dinner. "Merlin, I’m starving!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his stomach.

Hermione snorted. "Honestly Ron, when are you ever not starving?"

Harry chuckled as a grinning Ron gave his version of a standard McGonagall glare at Hermione. The trio found their places and sat down at the table as the piles of food appeared, Ron grinned and starting filling his plate.

"Really Ron, you eat as if food is about to be banned or something," Harry commented, amused. Ron just shrugged and continued his frontal assault on an unsuspecting chicken wing.

Harry waved to a bickering Hermione and Ron as they headed off to the Gryffindor Common Room and he headed off for his DA discussion with Tonks.

"Wotcher, Harry!" cheered a bouncing Tonks with bubble gum colored hair from the back of the Defense classroom. "I won’t keep you long. I remember how it was in sixth year. O’l Proffessor Snape got you buried with extra Potions work yet? Ya hang in there, Harry, don’t let him get to ya’. You just pay attention, listen to Hermione, and do the work. You’ll do fine."

"Now, about the DA classes, Harry. Since Dumbledore has made them open to the entire school, and that means Slytherins as well, he asked me to monitor the classes and make sure things… shall we say… don’t get out of hand. Seeing the results of your efforts with the DA members shows me that you seem to have a handle on the teaching part. It’s the number and, well, attitude of some of the students that I worry about."

The reminder that he was going to have to contend with the potential of Slytherins in the DA caused Harry’s anger at Dumbledore to flare. "I wish Dumbledore had at least asked me before he announced it to the whole bloody school! He didn’t take one bloody second to even talk to me about it." Seeing a bit of a sheepish look on Tonks, Harry took a deep breath, "Sorry. It’s ok, Tonks… sorry, Professor Tonks. I don’t do it alone. We divide the group up and Hermione, Ron, and Neville take turns. I just tend to move around and help those that seem to need it. I think between the four of us we can keep it from turning into a riot."

"Alright, Harry, and when it’s just us, you can call me Tonks, I’ll let you run it your way and just stop in from time to time. Just remember that I’m always here if you need me. Ok? Alright then, off you go."

Bidding Tonks a good night, Harry made his way back to the common room only to find two snapping turtles, namely Hermione and Ron, still circling each other looking for an opportunity to bite.

11. The Red Headed Troll

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry, the books, and the bank account. She deserves it!

Chapter 10 – The Red Headed Troll

Dawn had come, its light struggling through the pounding rain and murderous thunder that had been Harry’s companion through the night. He had tried clearing his mind the night before, but the nightmares still found their way through. He could still see the images and feel the pain, ‘running to the veil and peering around the other side, only to find Voldemort rather than Sirius; Hermione lying unconscious on the floor while Ron struggled to remove a putrid, decaying brain from his face; Dumbledore appearing only to say he was sorry, that he had wanted to tell him this would happen, but Snape had asked him not to...’

Wonderful, just bloody wonderful, he thought. Besides such balmy weather, no sleep, and a throbbing headache that leeched through his entire body, he had Quidditch try-outs today. Yeah, Snape must have phoned this one in…

"Crap!" Harry exclaimed as he rolled out from under the warm covers and his feet landed into a puddle of freezing water. "Great…." he muttered as he traced the leak across the room. Eventually he found the offending crack where the deluge outside had found its way in around the window frame. With a quick "Reparo" and "Evanesco" he grabbed his things and headed to the showers.

** -- ** -- ** -- **

Harry’s stomach felt a little better as he walked with his Firebolt across the mud-covered field to the Quidditch pitch. Some tea and a couple slices of toast had seen to that. While the headache was still hanging on, it had diminished to a manageable level.

Since try-outs weren’t for a few more hours he had thought some flying might be just the thing to help clear his mind. As he neared the pitch, he noticed a light shining from under the door to the dressing area. Curious as to who else might be crazy enough to be out in this storm, he pulled the door open and ventured through.

Inside, Harry found a very determined looking Ginny shouting at her brother, "I’m trying out for chaser Ron and you’re not going to stop me! I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much, and just who else do you think…"

"Ok," Ron interrupted, standing with his back to her while drawing a play on the board. "I’m not going to try and talk you out of anything, Ginny. I think you’d make a great chaser. Besides, you’re right. I don’t know any other Gryffindors who said they might try out."

"Oh…" Ginny replied, the wind releasing from her sails. Here she had spent all night preparing to fight it out with her over protecting brother, and now the git had gone off and just agreed with her. Men!

As Ron turned from the board to look at her, he noticed Harry had wondered into the room. "Hi, Harry. What brings you down here at this hour?"

"I was about to ask you the same. I mean, you are Ron aren’t you? The same Ron I room with? The one whose bum it practically takes Fluffy to oust out of bed in the morning?" Harry retorted as he stood dripping into a growing puddle.

"Yeah, yeah, joke all you want. I’ve been here since before dawn trying to plan out some sort of strategy for us. So what’s your excuse?" Ron asked.

"Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even notice you’d left this morning." Staring at the rain running down the outside of the room’s single window, Harry added, "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

"No. I had my own problems keeping me awake," Ron responded as he looked over sheepishly at Ginny, "I guess I’m just nervous about try-outs and all."

"Right then," nodded Harry, "Ginny, how about we get in a little practice before the others show up?"

"Sure, Harry," she said as she picked up her broom and headed for the door. Pausing in the open doorway, smiling, she turned to her brother, "and Ron… thanks."

The rain hadn’t diminished in the least as the two slogged their way out onto the pitch. As he looked out at the soup like field he decided it might not be any dryer flying through this, but at least it would be a whole lot cleaner. Handing a Quaffle to Ginny, Harry asked, "How about we practice being chasers, all right?" Looking at him with a bit of a concerned look, Ginny was busy thinking that she would have to inform Hermione again about Harry’s sleeping problems. With a simple nod of her head, she mounted her broom and rose into the sky.

Their practice quickly evolved from simple passing drills to what an unknowing onlooker might perceive as a blood match. Harry may have had the speed advantage with is Firebolt, but Ginny, being the petite girl she was, had the advantage in maneuverability and was sweeping the sky with him. One particular move she was quite adept at, was her "pluck and roll". Coming up under Harry from behind, she would start her barrel roll around him. Tugging on his leg or robe as she passed, he would instinctively dodge to the opposite side where she would be waiting to reach in and knock the Quaffle from his grasp. Completing the roll under him, she would then snatch the loose Quaffle as it fell. Deceptively simple in description, this was a move that required precise broom handling, and Ginny could carry it out in the blink of an eye.

They had been doing this for some time when they noticed Ron, Katie Bell, and Colin Creevey rise up to join them. Since Katie and Colin had both been chasers from the previous year and, quite frankly, Harry was growing tired of being made to look silly by Ginny, he floated over to Ron at the three goal rings.

"Ron, why is it Ginny is so good and it’s only now she trying out for the team? I know I’m not that good of a chaser, but bloody hell!"

Ron looked over to Harry with an expression of pride, "I guess between the twins and I we must have been a little… I don’t know… a little much I suppose. She certainly had no trouble with you I see," a smirk growing on his face.

"Yeah, well I don’t think we need to look much further for our third chaser. Ginny’s got my vote," Harry quickly added as he watched Ron dive and miss a goal shot made by his sister.

With the three chasers now keeping Ron rather busy, Harry decided it only fair to even it up a bit by charming a couple bludgers to act something like boomerangs. With them he was a one-man army of beaters and, as was soon apparent, he was having far too much fun in this new role. The rain that was still pouring from the thundering clouds seemed, from the chaser’s view, to suddenly have been transformed into a torrent of bludgers. Harry practically laughed himself off his Firebolt as Colin and Ginny nearly sandwiched Katie when the two speeding bludgers crossed in front of them.

The chasers soon got their revenge however, when Harry was spun upside down by a return bludger sent by Seamus, who had popped out from inside the clouds. Thinking he was lucky to have avoided this dastardly sneak attack, Harry had just righted himself when he was forced to spin around again when Dean appeared to take a shot at him from below. Holding their sides from laughter and as they slowly approached Harry, Dean called out, "Hey, Harry. You were such a target out there all by yourself, it was like you were begging to get dumped. Sorry, but we just couldn’t pass up the chance!"

"Yeah, I suppose I was," Harry chuckled as a very flustered Ron and the rest of the team flew up.

"Oi, Harry!" shouted Ron, "I didn’t notice, it’s already an hour past the start of try-outs. Dean, Seamus, how many others did you see waiting down below? We need to start getting them organized and…"

"Park your dragon, Ron. There’s no one else down there, unless you count Hermione sitting in the stands. You mean no one tried out?" a surprised Seamus asked.

"I guess not… except for you two," a very depressed looking Ron said, nodding at Dean and Seamus, "it’s just been us up here. Well then, I guess that narrows it down. Welcome to the team, " he said, extending his arm out to shake their hands.

Throwing his arms up in defense, Dean sputtered, "Whoa, mate! We just came down here to see who had tried out, not to actually try out ourselves. We find it a much more enjoyable experience when we’re in the stands providing needed… ah… coaching, rather than… ah… actually taking a bludger to the head."

Ron just sat there for a moment, thinking. Gradually, he started to get a very determined look about him and eyeing his two roommates, he stretched his arm out again, "Like I said, welcome to the team. You’re not about to let Slytherin win by default, are you? It’s you two or… who else? What do you say then?"

Seamus and Dean looked to each other, around the group of expectant Gryffindors, then back again. With a subtle shrug, Seamus reached out to take Ron’s hand, "You make a convincing argument, mate. I guess we’re the new Gryffindor beaters. I hope we don’t regret it."

"I think I already do," said Dean with a nervous eye towards Ginny. He and Ginny had exchanged owls a number of times over the summer and they were hoping to keep it a secret from Ron. Well, this would give them more opportunity to see one another he thought, although the look of irritation displayed on Ginny’s face hinted otherwise.

"Alright then," bellowed Ron, "it looks like we have a team, but no alternates. That means that everyone is going to have to learn to play two positions. Harry, since you’ve already demonstrated your lack of skill at being a chaser…you, Colin, and I will be alternate beaters. Let’s see… Ginny, you will be the alternate seeker; Katie, how ‘bout you be keeper; Dean and Seamus you two will need to be chasers. Ok, everyone got that? Then let’s practice!"

Since Harry and Ginny had already been hard at it for a number of hours, they were far from enthused. Tired and soaked was more like it and they made the mistake of saying so to Ron.

"So? What are you, whinny firsties? Do you think Slytherin would care about a little shower, or Ravenclaw? I doubt it. Now listen to me, all of you! If we’re going to hold on to the cup then we’re just going to have to practice harder, longer, and more often than anyone else! Now, no more complaining! It’s just a little fog, so get out there and take your positions."

"Fog, he says. FOG! If it rains any harder, I’ll need a boat not a broom. Ronald Billius Weasley, quit being such a… a… TROLL! Merlin, put him in charge and the power goes right to his head!" announced a furious Ginny as she grabbed the Quaffle from Ron and headed out to the middle of the pitch.

With a perplexed look, Ron shook his head and said to rest of the team, "Oi, what’s her problem? Come on then, take your positions."

** -- ** -- ** -- **

Ron kept them at it for another six hours. Drills, one-on-one, alternate positions, more drills; they were all well past exhausted. Hermione finally forced him to end it when she waded through the mud into the middle of the field and blew the Quaffle from the sky with a well-placed Reducto curse.

"Hermione, what are you doing!" bellowed, Ron as he raced down to her from his spot in front of the goals.

"Saving you, you prat! Everyone has already missed lunch and they’re tired. If you keep them at it any longer, someone is bound to hex you! In fact, I may do it myself…" a stern Hermione said as she pointed her wand up at Ron.

Ron responded by waiving his hands, "Ok, Ok. I surrender! Good practice everyone! Go get cleaned up and get something to eat. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning at seven…" he paused as he saw Hermione raise her wand at him again, "eight…" the wand rose a little higher, "nine?" at which Hermione lowered her wand.

"And you will NOT keep them out more than three hours, Ronald Weasley!" a defiant Hermione exclaimed with her hands on hips. "As a Gryffindor Prefect, you need to respect your team’s study time, and yours! I know you all want to win the Quidditch Cup, but not at the cost of failing all of your classes. Ron! Don’t make me take this to McGonagall…" she added when she saw him rolling his eyes.

"Alright, Hermione. Alright, you win. Let’s get cleaned up, everyone," he said as they slowly headed for the changing rooms.

Harry slowly lowered his broom down alongside Hermione and asked with a lop-sided grin, "May I offer the young lady a lift or would she rather slog her way back through the mud?"

Looking down at the mud that was now well past her shoes, Hermione smiled back, "As long as you promise not to go very fast. You know how I hate flying. Oh Merlin, how am I going to get my shoes out of this mud!"

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Harry gently lifted her out of the mud and onto his broom. "For such a brilliant witch… Accio shoes… Scourgify" he chuckled as he handed the now clean shoes over to Hermione. She thanked him by sticking out her tongue at him.

"Is that how it is then?" he asked and with a quick tilt of the handle the Firebolt shot straight up into the air.

"HAARRRYYYY!" screamed Hermione as she wrapped her arms around Harry in a death grip. "You promised me… Aaahhh!" she whimpered in a little girl’s voice as she looked down.

"Whoa… Hermione… need to breathe… relax!" sputtered Harry through the brown veil of Hermione’s hair. As she eased her vise like grip a bit, Harry sucked in a deep breath and reached up to clear the hair from her eyes, "Now, was that any way to properly thank someone for rescuing you?"

"Get me closer to the ground this instant, Potter, or I’ll thank you right into next we…EEK!" she demanded, to which Harry just raised the broom even higher. "Harry, you promised! You know I don’t like flying!" she shouted. Letting out a sigh of frustration, "Ok, I’m sorry. Thank you kind sir for rescuing me… and my shoes… now, can we go lower?" Harry waggled the broom and that little girl voice appeared again from against his chest, "Please?"

"Ok, Hermione," chuckled Harry, "I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have scared you like that, but I just couldn’t resist the opportunity."

He wasn’t quite sure why, but Harry took his time and did a slow spiral down to the ground before bringing them to the front doors of the castle. He found that he was becoming rather intoxicated with the smell of Hermione’s hair, vanilla he thought, and the warmth of her arms wrapped around his rain soaked robes.

While carefully helping Hermione down from the broom, Harry couldn’t help but impulsively gaze into her cinnamon brown eyes. At the same moment, either from the sudden loss of Harry’s warmth or from fear of loosing herself into the sparkling green pools of light that had her mesmerized, Hermione shuddered.

This broke the trance that had them both in its spell and they quickly looked away. Hermione, her face flushed, was the first to recover. "We’d best get inside where it’s warm and dried off before we end up in the hospital ward. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t be too pleased with us. I… I’ll meet you in the common room before dinner, Harry," at which she quickly opened the doors and disappeared inside.

12. A Day of Change

Disclaimer: No Jarveys were harmed or any profits made during the writing of this story.

Chapter 11 – A Day of Change

Here they were, a Friday night and what were they doing? Practicing Quidditch? No! Playing a rousing game of Exploding Snap or Wizard’s Chess? No! They were doing homework, of all things. Hermione had made a rather convincing argument, at the end of a wand, that since it was a Hogsmeade weekend they should get their studies done, so they could have the rest of the weekend free. Knowing she was right it though didn’t make it any more palatable to Harry and Ron.

"While alternately stirring thrice clockwise then twice counterclockwise, drop the bat wings, from a height of 4 ¾ inches above the simmering cauldron, such that they are allowed to flutter before becoming immersed… how the bloody hell did anyone ever come up with this in the first place?" Harry grumbled with furrowed brow as he struggled to finish his potion assignment.

Hermione simply looked up from her Arithmancy text and shrugged. The last few weeks of potions class had progressed with glacial slowness for both of them. It seemed as though Snape, having Harry squarely under his thumb, was achieving an almost euphoric delight in providing his daily taunts, but Harry was determined to stay focused and do his best. Since he was still relegated to the back corner of the room, Hermione, in a show of support, had positioned herself to face him rather than the front of the room. This, of course, had not gone unnoticed by Snape and had cost Gryffindor 10 points, much to Hermione’s dismay. However, he had yet to force her to turn back around. Each day, Hermione would drill into him that the best revenge would be to hold his temper and do well, no matter what Snape threw at him. Besides, learning to tune out Snape was good practice for blocking out the distractions that Voldemort certainly had in store for him. Judging by the prune-like look of disgust on Snape’s face when Harry handed in his samples, he believed he must have been doing something right.

Maybe Hermione had been right after all…okay, she was right. ‘Bloody disgusting habit she has there’, he thought.

*-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Not wanting to wander the streets of Hogsmeade on an empty stomach, the group had met for an early breakfast. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville gathered with Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and the rest of the school in anticipation of the arrival of the carriages that would carry them to the village. Upon seeing Professor McGonagall making her way through the crowd, Harry was grateful that he had remembered to have Vernon sign the permission slip early upon his arrival at Privet Drive, while the promise of retribution from Mad Eye was still fresh in his uncle’s mind.

As the professor collected the slips from each of the student’s, she was quick to admonish them all, "Remember, traveling to Hogsmeade is a privilege, not a right. I expect each and every one of you to conduct yourself with the utmost restraint. Any reports of misconduct will be dealt with severely. Am I clear on this?" Noting the simple acknowledgements and smattering of ‘yes, professor’ through the group, she motioned her head towards the gate where the carriages were now filing through, "Enjoy your day then."

Ron and Neville quickly intercepted a coach and were in the process of settling in when Hermione noticed that Harry was no longer behind her. Suspicious as to his whereabouts, Hermione retraced her steps back to the front of the carriage, only to find him quietly whispering and stroking what appeared to be thin air. It tugged at her heart to know what she couldn’t see with her own eyes, she could see by the anguish reflected on the face of her best friend. To Harry, the Thestrals were no longer simply a mode of locomotion for the Hogwarts carriages, but a personal reminder of their fateful journey to the Ministry and the loss of Sirius. Probing with her hand to find and scratch the ear of the invisible beast, she looked towards the sad green eyes of her friend that were unfocused and staring off at inner demons from the past, "It wasn’t your fault, Harry. Please, remember that."

The sadness she had seen now flared into a burning anger, "How can you say that, Hermione! You know bloody well that it was my fault! If I had listened to you, Sirius would still be alive and none of you would have gotten hurt and…"

"I know no such thing, Harry James Potter!" she responded heatedly. "I…Harry, please," Hermione’s voice softened at the look in his eyes as she reached down and took his hand in hers, "let’s not argue. It’s a beautiful day and we’re on our way to Hogsmeade. Please, just relax and let’s just have fun today, alright?" she added with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Taking a deep breath, the fires within Harry’s eyes began to burn out. "I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m sorry for a lot of things. If…"

"No, Harry, just fun today, ok? No sorry’s," she replied as he helped her into the coach.

"Sorry about what? What did you do now, Harry?" asked Ron in a teasing voice as they squeezed into the seat.

"Nothing Ron, every thing’s fine," Hermione replied with a look of ‘let it go’ on her face.

Soon the carriages arrived at the village and the students began their migration through the cobblestone streets according to who was going where first and with whom. Agreeing to meet at the Three Broomsticks for lunch, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus had headed for the Quality Quidditch Supply Store, while Hermione had convinced Harry, Ron, and Neville to begin their day at The Magical Menagerie to acquire needed supplies for Hagrid.

As they stepped from the relative quiet of the outdoors and through the door, they were met by the din of sound coming from the multitude of animals flitting, floating, bouncing, or scurrying around the room. Harry and Ron went to restock their supply of owl treats for Hedwig and Pig while Hermione and Neville sought out the shopkeeper.

"Excuse me, sir. But could you help me fill this list for Hagrid?" Hermione asked the ancient and slightly mummified owner.

Taking the list from her, he started "Yes, yes, Hagrid. Hmm, yes… I thought he might be needing more of that… what in Merlin’s name does he want that for… yes, yes I have all of this." He looked up from the paper and peered at them from over his spectacles, "Are there just the two of you? This is quite a bit I’m afraid, perhaps I should have it delivered to Hagrid?"

"Yes, if you could, that would be splendid." Hermione said gratefully. "Thank you sir. I’ll let Hagrid know to be expecting it."

Leaving the shopkeeper, they started browsing through the store in search of Harry and Ron. Hermione gathered some treats for Crookshanks while Neville stared, mesmerized, at the Devil Piranha, a blood red Amazon Piranha with horns. Eventually, they found Ron trying to convince Harry of something. "Why not, Harry? I mean, the bloody little prat is just a smart mouthed fur ball. It’s not like I’m really going to put it on him, just frighten him a bit, though it would serve the little bludger right..."

"It’s on your head Ron," replied a smirking Harry, "although, he does seem to have taken quite a liking to you. He’s a bit more cheeky when you’re around."

"Who are you talking about?" Hermione inquired as she leaned up against Harry’s arm.

"Ron wants to get that muzzle there for our friend THRIBT. Says it might tone him down a bit," Harry answered with a grin.

"Ronald Weasley! You will do no such thing," Hermione said indignantly. "THRIBT is a bright and articulate creature and you are NOT going to place such a horrid device on him. Now put that…that thing back on the shelf and let’s go. Everyone is probably at the Three Broomsticks already waiting for us."

Ron looked down at the muzzle and back to Hermione. With a slightly evil grin he attempted to take a few steps towards the sales counter.

"Ronald!" Hermione growled warningly at him.

"Ok, ok, I was just joking. Keep your knickers on, Hermione!"

Paying for their own personal items, they confirmed the date for Hagrid’s delivery and headed for the Three Broomsticks.

Judging by the level of noise that hit them when they opened the door, it seemed as though all of Hogwarts was already there. Fortunately, Ginny and the others had snagged the largest booth in the corner and had a round of butterbeers waiting for them. Weaving their way through the crowd, the three waved to Madam Rosmerta as they passed the bar.

"Hey, about time you three showed up," Ginny admonished teasingly. "You took so long we had to put a chilling charm on your drinks. By the way, we already ordered for you and Madam Rosmerta will bring our food over when she can. Did you get Hagrid’s list taken care of?"

"Thanks, Ginny. Yes, we did get Hagrid’s list and we would have been here sooner if it wasn’t for your git of a brother," Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes towards Ron.

Ginny chuckled. "So what magnificently dumb thing did my dear brother do now?"

"Can you believe he actually wanted to buy a muzzle for THRIBT? As if the two don’t argue constantly as it is, can you imagine what it would be like after he tried such a thing?"

Looking over at Ron, Ginny grinned, "From what I’ve heard, the arguments tend to be rather one sided. THRIBT doesn’t have much to work with now, does he?"

"Thanks, Ginny," Ron piped in, "that little pipsqueak has a brain the size of a newt and…"

Ginny cut him off, "I was talking about you, Ron."

"Ha, ha. Bloody comedians now, aren’t we." Turning to Dean and Seamus, as if to ignore the two girls, "Anything new over at Quality Quidditch supplies?"

"No, nothing really…" Seamus had started, but across the table Harry had dropped his butterbeer and clasped his hand over his scar.

"Harry! What’s wrong? Is it your scar?" a concerned Hermione asked as she grabbed his arm.

Pulling his wand from within his robe, Harry slowly stood and moved away from the table, "Stay here!" he told the worried faces around the table.

"Oh no you don’t, Harry. You’re not going anywhere without us." Hermione retorted as she attempted to follow him out of the booth.

"Stay here, I said!" he almost shouted, shaking his arm from her grasp.

With that outburst, the other students seated around them began to notice something was going on and like a wave washing through the room, the conversations started to die out.

Harry carefully opened the front door a bit and slowly peered out into the street. Seeing nothing immediately amiss, bit by bit he made his way past the door until he was standing fully in the open doorway. Concentrating his view on the dark recesses and obvious spots of cover lining the street, he searched for any signs of trouble. But everywhere he looked there were people going about their everyday tasks, oblivious to any problems that he might have perceived.

Across the street he saw Tonks, with her bubble gum colored hair stepping from the Hogsmeade bakery. Noticing Harry standing in front of the pub, she waved to him and headed his way.

As she neared the center of the street, a bolt of red light streaked down the street and hit her squarely in the back.

"TONKS!" screamed Harry. Crouching down low near the doorway, he pointed his wand at the prone Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and shouted "Ennervate!"

It had been fortuitous for Harry that he had chosen that moment to duck down, as the Death Eater who had fired on Tonks now sent a bolt of red light at him, shattering the sign posted behind where his head had just been.

The street was now a melee of people running for cover, small explosions, and bolts of different colored spells flashing about. Harry motioned to the now conscious Tonks to make for cover across the street.

Jumping back inside and slamming the door closed, Harry was greeted by the utter pandemonium of a room full of screaming, cowering students. He tried to shout over the panic for silence and calm but it only seemed to charge them even more.

In the corner, Hermione jumped upon the table bench, pointed her wand at her throat, and with a quick "Sonorus", bellowed in a commanding voice, "Silence!" Seeing that she now had their attention, she added "Calm down and listen to Harry!" then "Quietus".

Harry gazed around the room and assessed the situation in a heartbeat. "Everyone, stay calm. Panic will only work in their favor. All younger students move over here behind the counter. All older students gather what you can to shield yourselves." Seeing that there were a number of the DA present amongst the crowd, he made his decision. "All the members of the DA, gather here in the front as the first line of defense. Neville, you’re in charge!"

Neville looked as though he has swallowed a spoonful of botuber pus, "Wh…Wh…WHAT!? You can’t mean me, Harry. I… I… I’m not good enough to… what about you?" the terrified teenager sputtered.

"You’re wrong, Neville. You’ve proved over and over that you’re more than capable. Just have faith in yourself and it will be fine. Tonks is fighting from across the street so try and give her some cover fire."

As the building shuddered from a nearby explosion, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, "You two, head back to Hogwarts through the tunnel and get Dumbledore."

"And where do you think you’re going, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I’m going to duck out the back and see if I can circle around to help Tonks. You two get a move on for the castle!"

"Like Hell I will," bellowed an obviously upset Ron. "If you think for one second I’m going to let you go out there by yourself you’re daft! I’m going with you, Hermione can run back though the tunnels."

"Harry, don’t argue. Ron’s right, but since it’s obvious you’re going to do this no matter what, then we’re both going with you." Giving them both a look that could scald water, "I’m sure Tonks has already alerted Dumbledore, and the Aurors should be here soon. Let’s go then!"

Realizing that he wasn’t about to change either of their minds, Harry jerked his head towards the back of the room and headed off with his two stubborn friends in tow.

Pausing at the back door, Harry stopped them, "Just remember what you’ve been practicing and drop anything wearing black. We’ll sort them out later. Now when I open the door, spread out and head for cover. Ron, you head left along the wall of the pub. Hermione and I will work our way to the right. Let’s go," and with a yank of the handle, he threw the door open. A myriad of colored bolts shot out across the alleyway and tore the door from its frame as Ron dove out the door and rolled between two empty butterbeer casks and Harry and Hermione ran for the safety of a trash bin.

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" Harry hurled at the dark cloaks he spotted hiding within the trash. Turning back and seeing the wrecked door lying on the ground, he shouted "Ron, are you ok?"

"Yeah, mate. No worries!" was the distant reply.

Hermione had spotted the Death Eater that had fired at Ron and was attempting to keep him occupied with a series of ‘Reducto’ and ‘Impedimenta’ curses. The Death Eater wasn’t taking the hint and instead was working his way through the mountains of boxes, shipping pallets, and all other manners of storage that line the back alleys of all cities in the world.

Then Harry saw his opportunity. While Hermione had the miscreant busy dodging her flurry of spells, Harry dove around the end of the trash bin to another long row of neatly stacked butterbeer casks on the far side of the alley. Crawling along the moss-covered ground he was finally able to place the Death Eater within his sight and silence him with a well placed ‘Stupefy!’

Realizing that the number of spells fired by his friends had dwindled before he got to the Death Eater, Harry shouted over his shoulder, "Hermione! Ron! Are you ok?"

"I’m fine Harry, but Ron’s been hit and he’s out cold! He’s breathing and has a strong pulse but I’m not sure what spell it was!" was Hermione’s tearful answer back.

"Hold on, I’ll come back and help you."

"No, Harry. You go ahead, I’ll watch after Ron."

"You’re sure?"

"Yes, Harry. We’ll be fine, now go and help Tonks! I can still hear explosions coming from the street, so I think she needs all of the help she can get right now. Go!"

"Alright, Hermione. Keep your head down and I’ll be back soon."

"You had better Harry James Potter! I will never forgive you if you go and get yourself killed!"

As Harry rounded the corner of the "L" shaped alley, he saw the rampant destruction that was taking place in the front of the shops. A score of bodies lay strewn about the street. Within their numbers lay a few students and a couple villagers, but the largest portion, he was proud to see, was made up of Death Eaters.

Harry was halfway to the street when he heard an explosion followed by a gut wrenching scream from behind him. Racing back into the smoke filled alley, he heard Hermione’s panicked yell, "Harry!"

Frustrated that he couldn’t see and fearful of firing any curse that could possibly hit her, Harry faltered as unwanted thoughts thrust their way into his conscious mind, ‘No, not like the Ministry of Magic. I won’t let it happen again! Not to Hermione.’ Clearing his mind of everything, he forced those thoughts out as though forcing out a belligerent Snape and continued his way through the noxious smoke.

Then, there she was. Through the wisp of smoke clearing in front of him he saw a brown haired lioness, bound by ropes but still fighting with everything she had in her against the two Death Eaters who were holding her firmly between them.

Jumping out to face them, the raised his wand and roared, "LET HER GO!"

"No!" an all too familiar voice cackled. Harry’s rage flamed as he saw Bellatrix Lestrange smirk at him. Even as he lunged towards her, she yanked Hermione to her feet and the Death Eaters apparated away.

Harry stood, staring at the empty space where Hermione had just been. A pulsating knot of blinding anger started to form in the pit of his stomach and began to spread throughout his body. His wand started to vibrate with the force of his rage as he clenched it in his hand to the point of pain. The hair on his head stood on end, loose bits of debris and paper strewn about the alley began to swirl and dance around, and Harry began to glow. Then, as the white-hot anger reached its zenith, a shimmering bubble of opaline blue exploded from within him. As it enveloped the length of the alley, the wave of destruction swept everything from its path.

"Hermione!"

13. Aftermath

Disclaimer: A number Death Eaters were gravely injured during the writing of this story. I seriously doubt Ms. Rowling would mind.

Chapter 12: Aftermath

As suddenly as it had begun, the battle was over. The street grew still and the spells stopped their destructive mayhem. A northerly wind swept down the street, swirling the smoke rising from the burning embers and craters caused by the more destructive of the spells. Breathing a collective sigh of relief, one-by-one the tattered and yet triumphant people began emerging from behind doorways and whatever other cover they had been able to find.

Tonks, along with the other Aurors whose arrival had brought an end to the battle, started organizing aid for the injured and wounded.

"Mr. Longbottom!" ordered Tonks from the street, "Gather the rest of the DA and check out everyone you can find. If they look serious, bring them over to the Three Broomsticks. Otherwise, have them gather in front of the bookshop." Her voice hardened. "If the person you come across is a Death Eater, bind them, confiscate their wand, and let one of the Aurors know."

As Neville began to search for the rest of the DA members, Tonks called to him again. "And Mr… Neville, good work! You and all the rest of the DA members made a great difference here today." She shook her head. "I don’t care to think how many more would have been seriously hurt or killed if it hadn’t been for the lot of you. You all should be very proud."

Blushing at the praise, Neville managed a nod and quickly gathered the rest of the DA. Together, they set to their task of helping the Aurors with the wounded.

After a short time, a clearer picture of the level of devastation caused by the battle had begun to form. Seven dead, twenty three injured. Of the dead, all but one was a Death Eater. The lone exception was a very old and grizzled wizard who had been too frail to make it out of the street in time. Fortunately, none of the students had received serious injury. Mainly only minor cuts, bruises, or burns acquired while maneuvering for cover.

As Tonks and the rest of the Aurors were gathering the remaining five captured Death Eaters for transport to the Ministry, a very worried and slightly panicked Neville came and pulled her aside.

"P – P – Professor, please come quick, it’s Harry!" he said urgently.

Shouting her intended actions to Kingsley, the head Auror, she and the lanky teenager ran for the back alley. There, amidst the shattered casks and scorched walls, she found Harry, sitting as still as a castle gargoyle.

Slowly kneeling down in front of him, Tonks waited for some clue that Harry had acknowledged her presence. After a few minutes of painful silence, Tonks felt she had to try and reach out to him before he went further into shock. Speaking in a slow and calming manner, she asked "Harry? Can you tell me what happened? Where are Ron and Hermione?" Still seeing no response, she was about to try again when Neville approached and informed her that they had found Ron under some debris, unconscious but alive, and were taking him to the Medi-Witches. They were still searching for Hermione.

Neville was about to rejoin the search when the ashen faced Harry mumbled, "They took her." They watched as focus returned to his green eyes and the rage that had previously consumed him began to return, "The filthy bastards took her! I… I couldn’t stop them in time. If I had been quicker… you’ve got to find her. Somehow, you’ve got to follow them and rescue her… it’s all-my-fault!"

Placing her hand over his, Tonks watched as the tide of fury ebbed and despair took its place. "No, Harry." Tonks said firmly. "It wasn’t your fault. Don’t you ever think that. Stop beating yourself up over things you, or any of us for that matter, cannot control. Okay?" Harry gave a barely perceptible nod. "Now, I want you to go with Neville here and have the Medi Witches check you over. All right? Can you do that for me, Harry?"

She watched as Neville helped Harry to his feet and silently lead him out of the alleyway. Looking with exasperation towards the now overcast sky, Tonks shook her head, "Merlin on stilts! Those dumb bastards have really gone and done it now."

*-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The hospital wing of Hogwarts was filled to overflowing with Medi-Witches, students, and the injured with Madam Pomfrey all the while flitting from bed to bed like a hummingbird. During the trip back, Harry had recovered from his initial shock and had demanded to start the search for Hermione. Neville, more than a bit scared of a furious Harry, drew from his newfound courage and stuck to his charge of escorting him to Hogwarts. As Neville was pleading with him for what must have been the hundredth time to sit down on the bed, Harry suddenly became very silent as Ron was carried in on a floating stretcher to the bed next to him.

Soon it was their turn, for Madam Pomfrey arrived and began checking over Ron for any signs of trauma. "Did you see the color of the spell that hit him, Mr. Potter?" Seeing the sharp shake of his head, she continued, "I see no physical injuries and he doesn’t seem to be in any further danger at the moment, so I’ll be back to you two shortly. I have some burns I need to attend to first."

"But Madam Pomfrey, there’s nothing wrong with me. I wasn’t hit by any spells and I’m not hurt. I don’t need to be here, I need to help find Hermione," Harry argued.

Seeing the look of near panic in his eyes and knowing that it would take a full body-binding spell to keep Harry from running off in search of his other friend, she performed a quick check of Harry. Turning back to them both and with a look of indecision she ordered, "Mr. Longbottom, I’m depending on you to make sure that Mr. Potter here goes directly to Professor Dumbledore’s office. No side trips, is that clear you two?"

"Yes, ma’am," they echoed

"Yes, Harry," chimed a familiar voice from behind them, "if you and Mr. Longbottom would be so kind as to wait for me in my office. I would first like to check on the rest of your fellow students and will be there shortly. Oh, and Harry, the password is ‘skiving snack boxes’."

The two made one last check on Ron, hoping to see him with eyes open and listening in on the conversation, but he was as he was when they brought him in. Turning to Neville with a look of determination, Harry said, "Come on. Let’s go before Madam Pomfrey changes her mind about me."

They were quick to reach the spiral staircase that led into Dumbledore’s office. Giving the needed password, they entered stood next to statue as it began its lazy ascent to the upper chamber. As they neared the top, Harry noticed Neville’s face grow pale while his posture took on the look of someone who wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Don’t worry, Neville. You’re not in any trouble," Harry said, attempting to comfort his friend as he stepped into the entry room.

"Easy for you to say. You’ve been here lots of times before. Me, I’ve never been sent to the Headmasters office before," Neville responded, looking more worried than ever.

Harry opened the inner door into the Headmaster’s office and walked in, "I’m sure Dumbledore just wants to talk to us about what happened," Harry began, before being interrupted by that same familiar voice.

"You’re quite right, Harry. Neither of you is in any sort of trouble. Quite the contrary as I understand it, Mr. Longbottom. I would take this opportunity to thank you and the rest of the DA for the magnificent job I have been told was performed today. You both should know, the village folk of Hogsmeade express their sincerest gratitude. Now then, if I may, I would like to ask you to describe to me the events of this afternoon as you saw them."

"But, Professor," barked Harry, cutting off Neville, "What about Hermione? Shouldn’t we be out searching for her or rounding up every known Death Eater until they tell us where she is?"

"Rest assured Harry, we have alerted every available person and they are currently taking every step possible to locate Miss Granger. We must be patient. It may take some time…"

Harry was up out of his seat now, wearing a groove into the carpet as he paced back and forth across the office. Dumbledore could see that he would have to discuss the day’s events with Neville later. "Mr. Longbottom, would you mind terribly waiting in the outer chamber?" Neville gave Harry a worried glance before nodding. Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile. "Thank you, it won’t be but a moment."

Although he was still rather thunderstruck by the courage he had shown himself capable of and all the accolades he had received since the battle, Neville didn’t hesitate to distance himself from Harry, who appeared as if he could explode any moment. As Neville closed the door behind him, Dumbledore placed a silencing charm on the room.

"Now then, Harry. Would you care to describe the events that took place at Hogsmeade?" Dumbledore asked the agitated youth while pointing to a large overstuffed chair that had appeared.

Harry glanced over to the chair but continued his trek across the office; "We had just arrived at the Three Broomsticks when my scar started to hurt. When I went out to the front of the shop to check, someone fired a spell and hit Tonks. I revived her, went back inside, and had Neville take over while Ron, Hermione, and I went out the back to try and flank them. We took out the Death Eaters that were in the alley, but Ron had been hit with something and… I never should have left her! I shouldn’t have listened; I should have stayed with her. She’d be here now if I hadn’t left!" Turning to the headmaster, Harry practically leapt over the desk, "WHAT AM I DOING HERE? I SHOULD BE OUT FINDING HERMIONE, NOT SITTING HERE DOING NOTHING!"

Dumbledore sat back in his large high backed chair, placed his hands together, and placed his steepled fingers against his chin. Looking deeply into Harry’s nearly fluorescent green eyes, he answered in a calm but deliberate voice, " Very well, Harry. Where do you intend to look first? We’ve searched every building in Hogsmeade and the surrounding area and discovered nothing. I seriously doubt that they are anywhere nearby. Do you know of any other places where Miss Granger might be?"

"I…I don’t know," Harry answered, slumping back into the chair, anger still burning in his eyes. "I just feel as I should be doing something, not just… waiting!"

"But, it seems as that is all we can do at the moment," the aging wizard finished calmly. "Please promise me, Harry, that you won’t attempt anything without first informing me. This could be an attempt to provoke you into doing something rash. Therefore, doing so would play right into their plan." As Harry’s mind flashed back to the Department of Mysteries, the headmaster continued. "So, I ask you again, do I have your word, Harry?" Dumbledore’s gaze searched Harry’s face as he waited for a response.

"Yes, sir," was the simple reply.

"Then I suggest you go and check on Mr. Weasley before trying to get some rest… and Harry, remember to clear your mind of all thoughts before retiring." Harry nodded. "Off with you, then." As Harry crossed the room, feeling like he had recently been stomped by Grawp, Dumbledore said, "Oh, Harry, please tell Mr. Longbottom he can come back inside. I am sure that he would like to know what all went on today."

When Harry reached the office door, he threw it open, causing Neville to jump at least a foot and nearly soil himself. "Sorry," Harry said quickly. "Dumbledore says you can go back in." Turning, Harry left a bewildered Neville behind as he stormed down the steps and headed for the infirmary.

14. The-Boy-Who-Bit-My-Head-Off

Disclaimer: We’re still awaiting word back from Ms. Rowling on her opinion regarding the recent butt kicking given to a number of Death Eaters. However, in the interim, since they are only fictional and we’re not making any money from this… gentlemen, start your engines!

Chapter 13: The-Boy-Who-Bit-My-Head-Off

It was a few days later that Ron finally awoke, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in a right state by that time. No matter how many times Madam Pomfrey had assured them that he would recover, Molly wasn’t buying it until her red haired little boy looked up and asked when the next meal was.

Although he was awake and speaking, Ron still felt has though he had been Buckbeak’s plaything and had to stay in the infirmary for a few more days. Fortunately, this had kept him distracted enough to not realize that Hermione had not been by to visit.

"Harry, you’re going to have to fill in as Quidditch Captain until I get out of here," Ron groaned from his bed. "Make sure that the team practices as much as her majesty, Hermione, will let us. That bloody woman’s going to loose us the cup with her practice restrictions!"

That was when it suddenly dawned on him, "Speaking of Hermione, where is she? I figured she’d be here just waiting to go on about all the homework I’m behind on."

Looking down at his shoes, Harry cleared the lump from his throat and stammered, "Y-Yes. Well you see, Ron… Hermione isn’t here."

"Yeah, I can see that, Harry"

"No, I mean, Hermione isn’t here… at Hogwarts."

Pausing for a moment as this statement worked its way through the cobwebs of his addled brain, "Bloody Hell, Harry! She’s not hurt so bad they took her to St. Mungo’s, is she? What happened to her, Harry! She’s not…not… dead…is she?"

"No. Well, at least we don’t think so. Honestly, Ron, we just don’t know."

"How can you not know, Harry. She either is or she isn’t! What happened?"

"After you were hit, we stupefied the Death Eater that had gotten you. Hermione sent me out to the street to try and help while she looked after you. I had almost gotten to the street when I heard her scream. I ran back… but they took her, Ron," Harry said helplessly. "That hag Bellatrix and another Death Eater had her and they… they just apparated away." Ron’s eyes widened. "I’m sorry, Ron," Harry said softly. "I shouldn’t have gone. I should have stayed with her."

"It’s not your fault, Harry." Ron said quietly. "If I hadn’t gone and gotten myself into it, she wouldn’t have had to stay to watch me. Don’t blame yourself, mate. What does Dumbledore say about it? Have they tracked her down yet so we can go get her?"

"I don’t know. Dumbledore won’t tell me anything! He even made me promise to not go off and do anything… rash!"

"So?" Ron asked, astonished. "I mean, that’s never stopped us before, has it? What’s your plan, Harry?"

"That’s just it, Ron! I DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS! I DON’T HAVE A PLAN! DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE GONE AFTER HER ALREADY IF I DID?"

Hearing the shouts, Madam Pomfrey exited her office and headed quickly towards the source of the disruption. Seeing the hospital’s matriarch bearing down on them, Ron quickly grabbed Harry’s robe, "Alright, Harry. Calm down! I didn’t say you wouldn’t. Just…" But Poppy was already upon them.

"Mr. Potter! I will not have you disturbing my patients, so I’ll have to ask you to leave until such time that you can get your temper under control!" the stern Medi-Witch proclaimed with an icy glare. She looked between the two boys and with a voice of concern she took a deep breath and added, "I understand your anger over Miss Granger’s kidnapping. It has us all in a fit of worry, but Mr. Weasley needs his rest and Mr. Potter, I’m sure Miss Granger wouldn’t want you to neglect your studies. You may return again tomorrow… if you promise no more disruptions."

Harry looked to Madam Pomfrey, someone he seemed to spend more time with than anyone besides Ron and Hermione, and hung his head, "Yes, Ma’am." Harry muttered apologetically. "I’m sorry for causing trouble." Turning back to Ron as he walked towards the door, Harry made a promise to his friend, "I’ll see you in the morning, okay?"

Ron nodded. "Right, mate. Get some sleep. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back fighting Jarveys in no time." Ron grinned. "Speaking of which, how’s the pompous little twit anyway?"

Looking back as he opened the door, Harry managed a chuckle. "It’s funny, but he asked exactly the same thing about you." The last thing Harry heard as he left the hospital wing was Ron’s groan from trying not to laugh.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The days sped by as quickly as Harry’s frustration began to mount. The-boy-who-lived had become the-boy-about-to-explode, and everyone knew it. None of the Hogwart’s staff, not even Tonks, who he considered as much a friend as an instructor, told him anything about their efforts towards finding Hermione.

The students were careful in voicing any speculations regarding Hermione when he was near and surprisingly, even the ever-malicious Malfoy had sense enough to give him a wide berth. They had all hoped Ron’s release from the infirmary would somehow ease Harry’s resentment, but it had only made it worse. Since Ron was as much in the dark as Harry was, he had no answers to offer him. This wasn’t to imply in any way that Ron was somehow blind to Hermione’s absence. He wasn’t. He felt the pain of Hermione’s absence as acutely as Harry, and together they were a train wreck of emotions.

"I’ve called a DA meeting for tonight, Ron. I think it would be good to start holding them as often as possible," Harry told Ron late one afternoon as they returned to the common room.

Ron looked up from where he was sprawled on the fireside couch, "Yeah, I know. My coin heats up too, remember? You’re probably right about having them as often as possible, though you’re going to have problems scheduling them around Quidditch practice."

Something inside Harry snapped. "We’re talking about people’s lives here, Ron! I think having them learning to defend themselves is a bit more important than some pathetic Quidditch practice, don’t you?" Harry said sarcastically. "You might have to have a few less practices!"

"But we’re…" Ron began, but seeing the scathing look on Harry’s face made him think again about who was missing, and exactly why they were missing. He nodded. "You’re right. What do you say to DA on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Quidditch on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday?"

Realizing that he had bitten his best friend’s head off for what must have been the hundredth time today, Harry relinquished, "I think that would be brilliant, Ron." Taking a moment to ponder his next step, he reached over and slapped Ron on the back, "You know, I’m beat. How about we go and get something to eat?"

Leaving his books on couch, Ron jumped up, "I’m all for that. After those days in the hospital, I could eat a Hippogriff!"

After partaking in the evening meal of Shepherd’s Pie, where Ron had indeed demonstrated that he could have eaten a Hippogriff, they made their way towards the Room of Requirements.

Walking the necessary three times past the desired point in the hallway, the door made its appearance. As they let themselves in, they found that the room had configured itself in exactly the same manner as the previous year. Numerous bookcases lined the walls, all filled to capacity with books dealing with the countless methods for defending ones self. The two wizards stood silently, contemplating both the emptiness of the room and the despondent appearance of the books as they seemingly cried out for their bushy haired friend.

"Since Dumbledore went and told the whole school, do you think we’ll get a lot more this year?" asked Ron as he sat on one of the room’s windowsills.

"I suppose," Harry mused as he wandered down the lengths of shelves filled with books of Transfiguration, Advanced Defense, Charms, and even Potions. "I told Tonks and had someone in each of the houses put up a notice today." He frowned. "Well, every house but Slytherin, that is. Let the miserable bastards find out from Tonks."

Soon the room began to fill with original members of the DA as well as a burgeoning cast of hopefuls. Fortunately for them, since this was the Room of Requirements, the room kept expanding to meet the need for additional space. By the time Harry closed the door, the room had ballooned to the size of the Great Hall.

"All right! Quiet down!" Harry roared through the use of a Sonorus charm. The chatter gradually died down as people turned to listen. Surveying the scene before him, Harry continued. "Since our ranks seem to have grown quite a bit from before, here’s what I want. Fourth years and below along that wall, then fifth, sixth, and seventh," he said pointing to the four walls. "Herm…" he started to say but drew himself up short. Taking a deep breath, he restarted "Ron will be in charge of the seventh years, Neville will be with sixth, Ginny with fifth, and Luna will be with the others. The rest of you previously in the DA, divide yourselves amongst those four and help out. Let’s start with Expelliarmus drills and move on from there." After pausing to make sure there were no objections, he nodded. "Okay, let’s get to it then."

The population soon divided itself into the requested groups and then subdivided into practice pairs. In no time, the shouts of Expelliarmus could be heard thundering throughout the room in tandem with the cheers of success. Much as he was on the first day of Defense class, Harry was proud to see that the members of the DA hadn’t forgotten their skills and appeared to be very adept teachers themselves.

The only one seeming to be having difficulty was Neville. Trouble, not with the execution of his spells, but with the attitude of a particular sixth year Slytherin.

"This is a total misuse of my time, Longbottom," the Slytherin said scornfully. "This is something for the first years to practice! Get on to something more useful… or is this the limit of what scar head taught you?"

"Malfoy!" Harry commanded from the center of the room. "Front and center!"

Shoving some of the other sixth years aside and with a slight swagger in his step, Draco took his time making his way over to Harry.

As he holstered his wand, Harry spoke to the entire room as he leisurely walked around Draco to a point a short distance away, "Alright, everyone pay close attention! Mr. Malfoy here is going to demonstrate to us what he believes should be the proper training program."

Draco smirked as he jumped into a dueling stance, "Right you are, scar head! Oh Potty, how ever will you manage without your precious mudblood here to help you?" he taunted. Draco knew his remark had worked when he saw Harry’s face turn red with anger. With Harry distracted, he began his attack.

"Conf…" he started, but it was already over. Draco was now lying motionless in a heap against the far wall of the room.

In a blur of motion, Harry had drawn his wand from within his robe and performed such a powerful Expelliarmus charm, Draco had been thrown thirty feet and rendered unconscious.

The room was quick to recover from their momentary shock and started to cheer for Harry. But his reaction to their praise was far from the result they had expected.

Harry turned his back to the vanquished Slytherin and, growing quite agitated, shouted to the rest of the room. "Do you think this is a game!? Do you think that Voldemort…" Seeing the cringe on the faces around him only increased his anger. "YES, V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T! GET USED TO IT, BECAUSE IN HERE WE DON’T CALL HIM YOU-KNOW-WHO! VOLDEMORT WON’T GIVE YOU A CHANCE TO THINK ABOUT WHAT TO DO AND NEITHER WILL HIS DEATH EATERS! OUT THERE, IT’S NOT A DUEL. THESE SPELLS HAVE TO BE AUTOMATIC OTHERWISE THEY – WILL – KILL – YOU, OR TAKE…" but Harry choked on the words, as he felt himself loosing control of the frustration welling up inside. He knew he had to get away.

He headed for the door and the students parted before him like Moses crossing the Red Sea. No one said a word; their fear of provoking a repeat of Malfoy’s experience was all too real.

Ron rushed out the door and caught up with Harry just outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady, grabbing his sleeve to slow him down. "A bit hard on them, don’t you think, mate? We’re all doing our best. It’s not like you’re the only one who misses her you know. She’s my best friend too!"

"I know, Ron! It’s just that… no one is doing anything!" Harry yelled as he rounded on Ron. "Dumbledore, the Order, us! We’re not doing anything to help her! We should be out there, searching, hunting down every Death Eater and forcing them to tell us where she is, not practicing Expelliarmus."

Ron’s ears were turning red now, a sure sign that he too was getting upset, "What do you want us to do, Harry? Go to Knockturn Alley and start tearing the place apart until someone talks?" Ron’s voice was edged with derision. "That dolt Fudge would make sure you ended up in Azkaban before we got to any Death Eaters."

Ron was pacing the hallway now, back and forth, like a tiger in a cage. "Do you have a plan, Harry? If you do, just tell me!"

Kicking a hallway chair so that it clattered down the stairs, Harry yelled in frustration, "NO, I DON’T HAVE A PLAN! That’s just it! I don’t and I can’t stand it! It’s eating me up inside. Just…just go away Ron and leave me alone for awhile," he shouted as he slammed the portrait hole closed.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The following week moved incredibly slowly for Harry. Although he was still on speaking terms with Ron, things were tense between them and it hadn’t helped that his performance at Quidditch practice was dismal. So horrible was it in fact, that twice now, Ginny had been forced to catch the snitch right out from in front of Harry’s nose. The snitch, which did not seem to appreciate being ignored, had almost begun attacking him in a vain attempt to get his attention.

It was late Saturday afternoon and the sun had already hidden itself behind the snow-capped mountains to the west. The languid whispers of the shadows flowing across the Quidditch pitch were assaulted by the thunderous noise of an irate Quidditch captain.

"Harry! Get with the program will you!" Ron nearly screamed as Harry slowly drifted by on the evening breeze as it came off the lake. "You’ve got to get your head into the game Harry or we’re going to get our arses stomped. Harry! Are you listening to me?"

The youngest seeker in 100 years was staring out over the lake, like an abandoned wife who longed for her loved one’s ship to return from the sea. The shout of his name broke his reverie.

"Yes, Ron! I’m listening. The whole bloody country is listening to your screaming! Give it a rest! I’ll catch the damned snitch when the time comes!" Harry responded through clenched teeth. Then, like a flash of light, a look of determination appeared on Harry’s face as he turned his broom towards the changing room and started to leave. "I’ve had enough of this! I’m not waiting any longer!"

"Waiting for what? Harry, practice isn’t over yet, where are you going?" a confused Ron called out.

But Harry didn’t stop at the changing rooms, he continued on in a blur of speed across the pasture of green right up to the front doors of the castle. Jumping off his broom he heaved open the massive doors and proceeded down the halls, the sound of his boots echoing among the mammoth arches of the ceiling.

"Lemon Drop!" Harry shouted at the statue guarding the path to his destination. Seeing no response, he continued shouting everything that came to his mind as he paced, back and forth. "Sherbet Lemon! Bertie’s Every Flavor Bean! Skiving Snack Boxes!" and the statue moved. Seeing his opening, he raced up the steps and into the entry. As he reached out to pound on the inner door and announce his presence, he was stopped by the words, "Come in Harry. I’ve been expecting you for some time."

Harry spun the door handle and stormed into the room, broom still in hand. "When are you going to do something?" he demanded. "It’s been over two weeks and we haven’t a word on her whereabouts. No demands, no ransom, nothing! Don’t you care about her? How can you just sit there and do nothing!"

Dumbledore raised his hands in mock surrender. "Harry, please come in and have a seat, won’t you?" he said motioning to one of the large overstuffed chairs in front of his desk. Lifting a large ornate canister from his desk and holding it out to Harry he asked, "Lemon Drop? I have found that they can be quite soothing when one is under a great deal of stress." But seeing that Harry was undaunted and was continuing his frustrated stroll around the office, he tried again. "Harry. Please, come and sit down. Wearing a path into the floor of my office will not help Ms. Granger. Please, sit down."

Harry stopped and flopped down into the appointed chair, glaring at the headmaster. He wasn’t leaving until he knew what was happening, or more accurately, why things weren’t happening. "I want some answers, Professor. I’m not some little first year anymore and I’m tired of being kept in the dark! Have you found out anything?"

After a long silence, Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with regret, "No, Harry. I’m afraid we still haven’t a clue as to the location of Ms. Granger." Seeing Harry’s eyes flash with anger, Dumbledore quickly continued. "That is the truth, Harry. We have every member of the Order, including Professor Snape when he isn’t teaching his classes, out looking for information. That is why you haven’t begun your Occulmency lessons yet, as important as they are."

As Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, he looked to Harry as if he had aged another hundred years in the past few minutes. Seeing the saddened look on his mentor’s brow, the flame of his own frustration blew out. "I… I’m sorry, Professor. I know you are doing everything possible. I just can’t stand the waiting."

Looking down now at the broom lying across his lap, Harry almost whispered, "I… I miss her, Professor. I don’t know what I’d do if…"

"Of course you miss her, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "You have become very close to Miss Granger over the years and I would expect nothing less from a person of your deep seated caring for others. Therefore, we must continue to have hope and trust that she will be found."

Rising up, Dumbledore stepped around his desk and placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, "I promise Harry, that I will inform you when we have found out anything of value. And again, I must ask of you, do not do anything on your own. If you were to have any ideas or discover any new information, please bring it to me."

Walking over and opening the office door, the Headmaster smiled and said to his much calmer student, "Now, I suggest that you return to your room and get some sleep. Perhaps a good night’s rest will provide you and Mr. Weasley a chance for a fresh start tomorrow."

Harry stopped and looked up as he exited the doorway, "Thank you, Professor," he said softly. "I apologize, sir. I’m sorry to have lost my temper like that."

"Not at all, Harry. We are all concerned for the safety of our beloved Miss Granger, you more so than most." Dumbledore smiled. " I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Off you go."

Slowly making his way down the stairs and through the dimly lit castle, Harry eventually made it to his dorm in Gryffindor tower. There, on a Saturday night no less, he found what must have been a thoroughly exhausted Ron already asleep. Stifling a deep yawn himself, he decided that retreat, or in his case sleep, was the better part of valor.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Harry took it upon himself and made a conscious effort to hold his temper and pay a bit more attention to other’s feelings over the following weeks. This had a marked influence on those around him, as they were no longer as anxious about him becoming the-boy-who-bit-my-head-off.

He found the classes only he and Hermione had together the hardest. For it was at these times that Harry had to sit by himself, painfully missing the gentle prodding and encouragement of his bushy haired friend.

Professor Flitwick stood upon the stack of books on his desk and summoned the attention of the surrounding students. "Today, we are going to discuss the Aparecium charm and some variations on it. As you may remember, this charm is used to reveal the hidden wording of a document written in invisible ink. Variations of this charm can be used to reveal the hidden meaning or location of other objects," pausing he looked sadly towards Harry, "but only inanimate objects I’m sorry to say."

"Oh, my father sure wishes he could do a spell like that!" chuckled Penelope McFadden, a Ravenclaw girl whose parents were Muggles. "He’s always looking for the lost remote for the telly." Noticing the looks of bewilderment on her fellow student’s faces, she quickly realized that they had no idea what in Merlin’s name she was talking about.

"Ah yes, I see," added Flitwick. "The Locus distinctus charm requires that the object you are seeking be linked somehow to the object you are performing the spell upon." Holding up a tube of toothpaste for the class to see, "For example, after performing the charm - Locus distinctus - on this toothpaste, I hold my wand thusly," as he placed his wand flat onto the palm of his hand, "and complete the spell with - Declaro." The wand spun in the professor’s hand and pointed to a shelf across the room. Jumping down from his pedestal of oft-used reading material, he lightly danced his way across the room to show his toothbrush resting upon the indicated shelf.

"Now, as I said previously, this charm only works upon objects that have a familiar pairing." With a devilish grin, he looked again to Miss McFadden, "So I’m afraid it can’t be used to reveal to you the perfect dress for the Halloween Ball."

Professor Flitwick went on to discuss the theory behind these charms, but Harry wasn’t really listening. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind, a feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But try as he might, he just couldn’t force the thought to make an appearance and the harder he tried, the more elusive the feeling became. So, he simply gave up and turned his mind back to the task at hand.

Class ended after more than an hour of painfully boring theory. The only thing keeping them interested was the hint by Flitwick that this information would typically be found on their NEWTs exams. As Harry left the classroom, Dean and Seamus stopped him in the hall.

"Harry, DA again tonight?" asked Seamus.

"Yeah. You’d think people would remember which three nights of the week it is, but I suppose I should remind everyone anyway," grumbled Harry.

"Why don’t you just use your coin, Harry. Let everyone spread the word that way," added Dean.

Harry stopped and his head snapped to his right to look at Dean, "What did you say?"

Fearing that he had done something to really upset Harry, Dean answered in a hesitant voice, "I… I just said why don’t you use your coin. I didn’t mean anything by it, honestly Harry!"

"Merlin, that’s it! How could I be so dense!" Slapping Dean on the back, Harry started running down the hallway, "Dean, you’re brilliant! I’ll meet you and the rest of the DA in the room in a few minutes! Except I only want the original DA members. Okay? Thanks!" He dashed off, running full speed towards the stairs.

Dean and Seamus stood in the hall, rather confused about what had just happened, but confirmed Harry’s request. "Alright, Harry. Whatever you say!" They called after him, but Harry had already rounded the corner. They glanced at each other, shrugged, and headed off to collect the other DA members.

An hour later the original DA members had gathered in the Room of Requirements. The sudden warmth in their pocket had alerted those who still carried their coin. They in turn had alerted the others.

"What’s going on, Harry?" Ron asked urgently. "It can’t be that cow Umbridge. She’s in Azkaban!"

Harry closed the door to the room. Turning back to the anxious group staring back at him, "Everyone, have a seat. No Ron, but thanks to Dean we might have a way to find Hermione."

"Me?" blurted out Dean, "What on earth are you talking about, Harry?"

"It was you who reminded me about Hermione’s DA coin. Something was eating at me through the whole charms class and that was it." Harry started an exuberant pacing now in front of the group. "Flitwick had said the Locus distinctus only worked on objects that were related and not on people. But we all have something that is linked to Hermione, her coin. And I know that Hermione never went anywhere without hers. She said it brought her good luck."

"Bloody Hell, Harry. You might have something here!" shouted Ron as he leapt up from his seat on the floor. "When do we go?"

But then, from the now open doorway they heard an all too familiar voice say cheerfully, "Wotcher, Harry. Go where?"

15. Hope

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is the Queen. All hail!

Chapter 14: Hope

"Oh, crap!" exclaimed Harry.

Tonk’s zeroed in on Harry’s guilty look as he gave a feeble attempt at a laugh, "Aahh… nowhere. We’re not going anywhere." He tried for innocence, and failed miserably.

"Bullocks. I heard Ron ask when you were going," Tonks retorted. "Now what’s going on, Harry? Have you found out something about Hermione?"

Busted! Harry looked over to Ron, who nodded his head in a silent defeated agreement. Resigning himself, he sighed. "Yeah, sort of. Professor Flitwick was talking about the Locus Distinctus charm in class today and it gave me an idea."

"But Harry, " interrupted Tonks, "I’m sure he also said that it doesn’t work for finding people. It only works on things."

"I know, and he also said the things had to be related to each other in some way, and we have just the thing," answered Harry.

Tonks looked around the room at the faces of hope around the room and prodded, "Ok, ya’ got my attention. Let’s hear it."

Harry reached inside his jean pocket and pulled out the galleon he used to announce the DA meetings and handed it to Tonks. "We all have one. This is how we told each other about the DA meetings last year. Hermione cast a Protean Charm on them so whenever I wanted to call a meeting, I just changed mine. Wouldn’t that count as being related?"

A light dawned on Tonks face and she broke into a broad smile, "Wotcher, Harry! I think you might have something here."

But she could see it on their faces, they knew what she was about to say. In an attempt to head off the impending argument, she added, "I know – I know," holding her hands up in front of her, "good job to all of you, but I can’t let you go off on your own. I’m sorry Harry, but I must take this to Dumbledore."

Harry just stared at her. "And he’ll do what? Nothing, just like he has been!" he exclaimed, the heat starting to rise within him.

"That’s not fair, Harry, and you know it! He’s had everyone in the Or-" but remembering that most in the room were not privy to the existence of the Order, she quickly corrected, "…every one of the staff has been working themselves to the bone trying to find Hermione. Give them some credit, Harry!"

But the other students arriving there for the announced DA meeting saved Tonks from any further disputes.

"I’ll let you know what comes from this, Harry. I promise." And, with those words, she scurried out the door.

Harry pondered this development for a moment. Knowing that Dumbledore would soon hear about this, he didn’t see where they had much choice but to wait. Sure, they could try a different coin, but would the DA be more effective than the Order? He sighed. No, as much as it hurt to admit it, they wouldn’t be.

Ron walked over and placing his arm on Harry’s shoulder, "Come on, mate. Let’s see if we can teach these gits something about defense. Doesn’t seem to be much else we can do right now."

"Yeah, I guess you’re right," he said, the feeling of helplessness all but tearing him apart. Turning to the expanding crowd of students, Harry commanded in a tired and listless voice, "Alright everyone, you should know the drill…"

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Tonks quickly gathered Professor McGonagall and together they made their way to Dumbledore’s office. Once inside, she explained Harry’s intriguing idea to the thoroughly impressed witch and wizard.

"Very good, very good. Quite an excellent idea, I must say," the headmaster praised with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I’ve been quite concerned of late about Harry and his propensity for action. Our lack of results has seriously undermined what little faith or patience he may have had in us. Therefore, I’m quite grateful you happened upon them when you did, Nymphadora."

He laid the galleon down upon his desk and turned to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, if you would, please contact all members of the order and have them meet at Grimwald Place in one-half hour."

As McGonagall skirted around his desk and started to leave, Dumbledore stopped her. "Oh, and Minerva? Even though I’m sure we narrowly missed having a rather large part of the Gryffindor house out searching for Miss Granger tonight," he started as he peered over the reading glasses perched at the end of his nose, "I do believe this new lead merits some recognition. Shall we say… fifty points? However, please inform Harry that keeping the points is contingent upon him. Please, reinforce with him that he must discontinue his independent… endeavors."

Professor McGonagall nodded her agreement with the Headmaster and left on her quest to notify the rest of the Hogwarts staff of their intent.

"So it appears you think this has a chance, Albus?" Tonks asked as she walked across the office to take up waiting in one of the large chintz chairs.

"Yes I do, my dear. And I’m encouraged to see that it was the students who were able to piece it together and see beyond what their text teaches them. Something, I dare say, we would all do well to take example of."

McGonagall soon returned, followed by an irate Professor Snape. Gathering the few things they needed, they stepped into the flue and in a flash of green the four made their departure for Grimwald Place. There to greet them in full battle dress were a dozen members of the Order of the Phoenix who were not currently assigned to guard duty elsewhere.

First to step forward was a concerned looking Shacklebolt and Lupin, who led them all into the kitchen and inquired as to the reason for the urgent meeting. "What have you found out Albus?" Lupin began, "I’m afraid Minerva didn’t have much of an opportunity to tell us much."

Holding up the DA’s Galleon, Dumbledore quickly filled them in. "Harry has come up with a clever use for the Locus Distinctus charm. It seems that our ever-resourceful Miss Granger placed a Protean Charm on a number of these coins and each original member of the DA has one." Stepping over and placing the coin down upon the kitchen table, he continued. "Since he was quite adamant that she always kept it about her person, it is therefore reasonable to assume that she had it with her the day of the abduction."

Looking around the room at the small size of his available force, "And, I intend to find out."

Since none of them knew where, or even what, they might be dropping in on, they spent the next hour forming their strategy. Dumbledore finally drew it to a close, "I am well aware that we could be walking into a trap set for Harry and that we have no information at all to support us. However, I feel that speed is of the essence."

Holding his hands out, as if in a request for support from the group, "It has been several weeks since the abduction and I feel that the Death Eaters attention may have waned. But time, I fear, is not on our side. The longer they have her without a response from Harry, the more I fear for her safety."

As Dumbledore reached deep into his royal blue and red robes, the warriors assembled in the room followed his lead and pulled out their wands. He stepped forward to the head of the table and in front of the coin. The twinkle was gone from his eyes and his immense power radiated through the room. In a loud and determined voice, he spoke the incantation, "Locus Distinctus." Taking a final, cleansing breath, and to the people within the room, he added, "READY YOURSELVES… Declaro Granger Apparatium," and In a flash of light they were gone. A heartbeat latter, the band of determined rescuers reappeared within a dark wooded forest of trees.

Shacklebolt, Tonks, and the rest of the Aurors instantly scattered to secure their position. Peering through the dim light of the quarter moon, they could see a small glen where a small hut of decaying lumber and forest logs stood. As they slowly crept closer and surrounded the collapsing structure, a dank evening mist swirled about their feet, the dampness of the grass masking the sounds of their approach.

Observing no one standing guard around the only entrance, Dumbledore began to fear this indeed was a trap. He motioned for the rest to position themselves at the windows and back of the building while having the Aurors continue their vigil within the woods.

Stepping around to the front of the building, he stood before the iron hinged door. Rising to his full height, he pointed his wand at the rotting slabs of oak and announced himself with a deep "Reducto."

The door exploded into dust while the remains of the handle and hinges arched high into the air and fell twisted upon the grass, far into the glen.

Dumbledore leapt over the threshold and into the room, a ‘Stupefy’ poised on his lips.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

A/N – Sorry this is a bit short. Elf convinced me to leave this as a cliffhanger, rather than another 7-8 page chapter. We’re evil and mean and desperate for more reviews! If you’re nice, I might get some more up by the end of this long holiday weekend.

16. Friends

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry, I wouldn’t be comparing home equity lines of credit…

Chapter 14 Summary: Harry has the idea that they may be able to track Hermione’s DA coin through the use of the Locus Distinctus charm. The untimely arrival of Tonks at the DA meeting foils his plan to attempt a rescue of Hermione. Tonks takes the plan to Dumbledore and, with the help of the Order of the Phoenix, they are about to enter a small hut in the hopes of finding our lost heroine.

Chapter 15: Friends

But the room was silent, no bolts of red or green snapping at him through the dust, no Death Eaters. Worst of all, no Hermione.

Dumbledore muttered a Scourgify to sweep the dust from his sight and to determine what still might be found of help to them. Remus, who now stood in the empty doorway, called the all clear to the rest of the Order and went to stand beside Dumbledore.

"I fear we are too late, Remus," the great wizard said in a worried voice.

Spotting an iron hoop bolted to the wall, a restraint he was all to familiar with, Remus walked over and began clearing the loose debris from the dirt floor. Soon, a glint of gold told him that he had found the object that had brought them here. Holding the galleon up for Dumbledore to see, he told the heartbroken wizard, "But at least we know she was here, Albus. Harry’s idea did work."

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

It felt like a cave this time, the air cool upon her arms with a smell of the earth. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the echo of water dripping into a pool.

This had been what, the seventh move now. Yes, of that she was sure. They had been moving her at random times since that day in Hogsmead and her analytical mind had committed to memory all the locations of imprisonment. Perpetually blindfolded, she had memorized everything that she could about their places of hiding. The sounds, smells, textures, all in the hope that they could somehow be of use to her.

But none of it had been of any help.

She attempted to settle herself into the most comfortable position she could. Not an easy thing when your feet and hands are shackled. ‘All part of the torture I suppose,’ she thought to herself.

So far, the Death Eaters had focused mainly on verbal and mental tactics rather than physical attacks. Not to say there hadn’t been any though. Bellatrix has a mean right, she thought. But to her relief, their lord and master had decreed that there should be no permanent damage done to their prisoner. For the time being. However, that didn’t keep Lestrange from using her favorite spell, Crucio, whenever she came to visit. Unfortunate in some manner, Hermione thought, that the Crucius doesn’t leave permanent physical damage. She understood now how Neville’s parents had lost their minds. The pain was beyond anything she had ever felt and, when Bellatrix was in a rather nasty mood, she saw how easy it would be to fall from that precipice of sanity.

"Mudblood! When’s that filthy half blood boyfriend of yours going to get off his arse and come after you, eh? I’m tired of wait’n," her current overseer chided as he threw a mold covered piece of bread to her.

She had learned long ago not to answer. Any response only invited more verbal torment. ‘At least I shouldn’t get an infection. Doesn’t penicillin come from mold? Merlin knows I’ve eaten enough of it,’ she thought.

She let her mind wonder as she tried not to gag on the bread, ‘Oh but Harry, he’s right. Where are you? I don’t know how long they’ll let this go on. I’m positive the Order is out looking for me and I’m sure you and Ron are probably angry they won’t let you look as well.’

As she began to drift off from exhaustion, her last thoughts were of brilliant green eyes, the ever-entangled black hair, and a mirthful lopsided grin. ‘Please find me, Harry. Please?’ she thought, as her mind stepped into the darkness of sleep.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

"What do you mean she wasn’t there?" an incensed Harry screamed as he stood in the middle of the Headmaster’s office.

The DA session had been left in the hands of Neville, since neither Harry nor Ron could focus on anything during the rescue attempt they felt they should be mounting was going on. "How could you lose her?"

Dumbledore held up his hands, "Calm yourself, Harry. It appeared as though she had not been there for some time. My belief is that they are moving her from place to place in an attempt to thwart our efforts. I’m sorry."

The headmaster looked into the eyes of the frustrated boy and added, "But know this Harry, we haven’t stopped looking and we won’t stop until she is found and returned safely back to us." Reaching into his robe he pulled out Hermione’s galleon and handed it over to Harry. "Your idea of the Locus Distinctus charm was quite brilliant, I might add. We would not have found the location otherwise and I’m sure Miss Granger would be very proud of you, Harry. I know I am."

Slumping defeatedly in one of the large over-stuffed chairs, Harry stared down at his hands as they rubbed the dirt from off of the coin. "Yeah, but it was all for nothing. If she wasn’t there… how are we going to find her Professor?" Harry rose again from the chair and walked over to the office window to stare at the cloud framed moon. "Maybe we need to give them what they want? Maybe it’s time for me to face him."

"No, Harry! You mustn’t believe that," Dumbledore interrupted. "Regrettably, the time will come when you must face him, but this isn’t that time. You must have faith in Miss Granger’s strength, Harry, as I’m sure she has faith in yours. We will find her."

"But while I wait, there are people out there dying or getting hurt, Professor! How can I just sit here and let that happen!" Harry stopped in front of the large, ancient desk, his rage boiling to the surface. "My best friend is out there, HAVING MERLIN KNOWS WHAT DONE TO HER AND YOU JUST WANT TO KEEP ME LOCKED UP! WHY? WHAT AM I DOING HERE?"

"Learning, Harry, learning. Tom spent many years traveling the world to gain the knowledge he has. You as well must acquire the knowledge it will take to defeat him," Dumbledore explained. "Everyday Harry, you are another day closer to finding that which will help you."

Becoming more frustrated and finding no solace in any of the answers he was being offered, Harry stormed from the office and, pausing in the doorway, gave one final retort. "Yeah, fine! I’ll be sure to put everything I learn from the back corner of Snape’s class to good use! Good night, Professor!" and slammed the door.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

With the failure of the Locus Distinctus charm, Harry and Ron found themselves falling deeper into the chasm of frustration and self-pity. Although their shared anger was primarily directed at those around them, their deep friendship wasn’t always enough to keep them from lashing out at each other.

They had each found their own way of channeling the anger and frustration. Harry, in focusing his efforts into the DA and Snape’s reinstated Occlumency lessons, had become a demanding taskmaster. Similarly, Ron had grown ever worse as the "Red Headed Troll" of the Quidditch Pitch. Neither one was very popular and the rest of the school was avoiding them like a rampaging Hippogriff. Only one "person" gave them no harbor, THRIBT.

"Listen you sarcastic little twit!" shouted Ron one day during the Care of Magical Creatures class. "I’ve half a mind to throttle that flea bitten neck of yours. Now, leave - us - ALONE!"

"Well, at least you’ve finally come to realize the fundamental issue here. You’ve only half a mind, you great, pompous, Horklump!" THRIBT retorted. "What on earth did I do to Hagrid that he condemns me to attempting to teach these wretched mistakes of nature," the Jarvey muttered as he scampered away.

"I swear to you, Harry. I’m going to hex that git into next week before this year is through," Ron growled, as Harry restrained him from going after the furry creature.

"Just ignore him, Ron! We don’t need a detention from Hagrid! Let him go," Harry said as he maneuvered Ron away from the finished class and towards the castle. "Let’s just go to the common room and try and get our work started before dinner, okay?"

"All right!" Ron shouted as he jerked himself free from Harry’s grasp, "Just let go of my bloody robes. I can walk on my own without your help!"

There was a tense silence between them as they walked up the hill from Hagrid’s hut. As they passed through the great doors on their way to Gryffindor tower, unbeknownst to them, they were being observed.

Hushed as church mice, two young girls were standing in the shadows of the stair landing. One girl was adorned with a top of fiery red hair, the other of golden corn silk. They looked to each other and shook their heads in annoyance.

"Those two are falling apart without Hermione here to watch over them," Ginny muttered to the girl whose nose was now firmly planted in an upside down copy of the Quibbler. Tugging on the Ravenclaw girl’s sleeve in exasperation, "We need to do something, Luna. Any ideas?"

"I’ve always found that a weekend trip looking for Rock Elves in the Bavarian Alps very relaxing. Maybe they could try…" the misty eyed blond had started to say, but she was cut off.

"Luna! Work with me here," Ginny said, irritation edging into her voice. "We can’t send them to the Alps to look for… rocks!"

"Rock Elves, Ginny." Luna said patiently. They’re about the size of…"

"Never mind! I meant, what can we do here at Hogwarts?"

"Well, we could ask them to the Halloween Ball I suppose." Luna mused. "I don’t think Hermione would be too upset. It would only be so they won’t kill each other," Luna answered from behind her father’s newspaper.

"I…hmm," Ginny pondered. "You might have something there, Luna," A plan started to percolate in her mind. "It could be just the thing to distract them from each other for a bit. I could ask Harry and you could ask Ron. I happen to know that he doesn’t have a date."

Confused, Luna finally looked up from her paper, "Of course he doesn’t, Ginny. How could he? Hermione hasn’t been here to ask him, now has she?"

"What? Who are you talking about, Luna?" the thoroughly bewildered red head asked.

"Why Harry, of course. How could Hermione ask Harry to the ball when she hasn’t been here for weeks?" Luna grimaced for a moment and buried her face back in the Quibbler. "The poor girl, how ever will she catch up with the mountain of homework she’s missed. I do wish she would come back from where ever it is she has gone."

Ginny was shocked. "Luna? You do know that Hermione was kidnapped by Death Eaters… don’t you?"

"Of course, Ginny. Do you think I live in a cave?" the always out-of-phase girl huffed as started to walk away.

Running after her, Ginny grabbed the girl’s robe, ‘Luna, where are you going?"

"To ask Ron to the ball. Isn’t that what you wanted?" Reaching over, Luna clasped the hand of her now dumbfounded friend and pulled her along, "We really should do it before they get to the portrait hole, don’t you think?"

*------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Harry was standing before the mirror, attempting to knot the tie to his dress robes when he turned and asked, "Remind me again Ron, why are we doing this?"

"Because my sister and Luna have some daft idea that this is meant to cheer us up," Ron tried to explain as he pulled on his dress shirt. "I suppose it won’t hurt us, Harry." Ron let out a heavy sigh, "Loony Luna! How in Merlin’s name…"

"I just wish they hadn’t, Ron. It… it just doesn’t seem right somehow. Without Hermione I mean."

"Yeah, mate. I know what you mean," Ron said as he came over and looked in the mirror with Harry. "Has Lupin told you anything lately? He seemed to think they might be onto their trail."

"They found nothing. He did say that he thought they had only missed them by a few hours. A few hours!" Harry spat as he tore the tie he was struggling with from his collar and threw it across the room. "If I could only get out of here…"

Ron put his hands on Harry’s shoulders and told him, "Calm down, Harry. You remember what happened the last time you tried to sneak out."

"Yeah, leave it to Dumbledore to have a ward for keeping people in or out! Having it send me directly into his office was a rather low shot," Harry grimaced. "I thought no one could apparate at Hogwarts!"

"He’s Dumbledore," said Ron as he knotted the offending tie around Harry’s neck. "Come on, mate. Let’s go find Ginny and Luna."

Resigned to their fate, the two slowly made their way down to the common room. Not finding Ginny waiting for them, they decided that they must be early and started a game of wizards chess to pass the time.

After what seemed to be only a few moments, Ron ungraciously dumped Harry from his reverie. "That’s the third game I’ve won in under ten moves, Harry. You’re thinking about Hermione, aren’t you?"

"I can’t help it, Ron," Harry said as he rose from his chair, "I’m sorry, I should never have agreed to do this."

"Do what?" a concerned voice said from the stairway.

Harry turned to see Ginny, standing on the bottom stair, a stunning beauty in a long emerald green evening gown. "I’m sorry, Ginny. I… I just don’t know if I can do this."

In an outright scary semblance of her mother, Ginny placed her hands on her hips and looked Harry and Ron straight in the eye. "Oh no you don’t!" Ginny said sternly. "You two agreed to take Luna and I to the ball, and by Merlin, you will!"

But seeing the flash of pain that spread to Harry’s face and the dire look of warning she was getting from Ron, Ginny quickly realized this wasn’t a simple case of cold feet. Running across the room, she quickly put Harry in her best Hermione bear hug.

"I’m so sorry, Harry," she whispered through the tears she was leaking onto his chest. "If you don’t want to go, I…I understand."

Harry never was any good around crying girls. Cho, Hermione, now Ginny. "It’s ok, Ginny," he said as he searched for what to do with his hands, "I… I just miss Hermione. She should be here for this."

Ginny stepped back and put her arms around them both, "You’re right, Harry. But even so, you should be able to relax a little. Both of you are so tense all the time people are scared to talk to you, even me sometimes."

"Really?" ask Ron. "So that’s why no one has been arguing with me during Quidditch practice? I guess I hadn’t realized."

"Me either," Harry stated flatly. "Hermione has been on my mind a lot. I’m sorry Ginny if I’ve done anything to offend you. I didn’t mean to."

"You haven’t," Ginny answered with conviction as she hooked both their arms in hers and walked them to the portrait hole. "Now, let’s get Luna and go to the ball and have a bit of fun."

As the group stepped from the stairs onto the landing of Ravenclaw tower, Ron did a double take when he realized it was Luna who was waiting for them beside the entrance. Luna was dressed in a royal blue evening dress with brightly lit fairies dangling from her ears. On anyone other than Luna, this may have appeared strange, but on her, it was quite stunning. The affect it had on Ron was quite obvious as well as he stammered out a greeting, "I ahh… err… eep!"

Grinning ear-to-ear, Ginny came to her brother’s rescue, "Ron, if by any chance you can re-connect you brain, why don’t you take Luna’s arm and we can leave for the Great Hall."

Without removing his eyes from the flaxen haired beauty, Ron managed a short "I… err-ok."

Proceeding down the stairs with the legions of other couples attending the ball, Harry eventually broke the ice. "Luna, how did you manage to get the fairies to… ah… stay? A sticking charm?"

"Heaven’s no! I simply asked them." Luna answered, slightly surprised. Leaning forward so they could see, she illuminated them. "See, there are little swings for them to sit on. I just asked them if they wouldn’t mind accompanying me for the evening."

"Ahh yes, I see," Harry said, although he really didn’t.

Luna then looked up at Ron with dreamy eyes and squeezed his arm, "You look quite dashing tonight, Ronald. I do like your robes."

"Ahh… right. Thanks, Luny. I…I mean Luna! Sorry."

"Oh, it’s quite alright, Ronald. I know everyone calls me that. I don’t mind - too much."

Ron was saved from further embarrassment by their arrival at the Great Hall. The foursome stepped through the entrance and marveled at the litany of decorations. The four great tables had been moved to the circumference of the room to make room for a dance floor. Elaborate treats filled every table, while pumpkins of every shape, size, and decoration floated throughout the room. Every remaining inch was filled with colored corn and gourds, straw bales, and ghosts aplenty.

Spying Dobby serving pumpkin juice in the corner, Harry started to ask if anyone would care for a glass when he clutched his forehead and groaned in pain.

"Harry! What’s the matter?" Ginny cried out.

Nearly pulling off Luna’s arm when he dove to catch his collapsing friend, Ron pulled him away from the door and into a cloak closet.

"Harry! Is it V…Vol… You-know-who?" Ron asked in near panic.

Through clenched teeth, Harry managed to hiss out an answer. "Yeah! And he’s really happy about something!"

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

A/N: I’ll be on travel for work over the next ~2 weeks, working late into the night. I will try my best to still post next weekend, but I can’t make any promises. I apologize in advance if I don’t make it.

17. The Abyss

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters, and to Ms. Rowlings father, a happy Father’s Day.

Chapter 15 Summary: Harry’s charm leads the Order to an abandoned hut, but alas, no Hermione. We discover that although she remains physically unharmed as she is moved from place to place, Hermione’s torture at the hands of the Death Eaters is one of isolation and mental abuse. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron are angry at the Order and Dumbledore for keeping them from the search and take their frustrations out on all around them. In an attempt to cheer their spirits, Ginny and Luna ask Harry and Ron to the Halloween Ball where Harry’s scar once again erupts in pain.

Chapter 16: The Abyss

"Go find Dumbledore! " Ron urged the two girls. "I’ll stay here with Harry, now get going!"

The painful look on Harry’s face gave them all the incentive they needed and Ginny and Luna quickly disappeared from the cloakroom to find the Headmaster.

"Hang in there, mate. Dumbledore will be here soon," a worried Ron said in an attempt to comfort Harry.

"He’s really happy about something, I… I don’t know what."

Ron’s eyes began to widen, "Y… ya don’t think it’s Hermione, do you?"

"No… but either way, I don’t think it’s going to be good for us or the Order, no matter what it is," Harry finished as he weakly tried to sit up against the wall.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Potter?" a stern but worried McGonagall asked as she entered the small room.

Harry looked over at Ginny who added, "Professor Dumbledore isn’t here, Harry. We thought it better to get Professor McGonagall than Professor Snape."

"Yes, yes. The headmaster is occupied with business for the Order. Are you able to stand, Potter?" McGonagall queried as she tried to help Harry to his feet.

"Here, I’ll help him," said Ron as he draped Harry’s arm over his shoulder. "I’ll take him back to our room."

"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Potter?" seeing Harry’s shake of his head, she went on, "are you seeing anything I should be made aware of?" Again, Harry shook his head no. "Perhaps then, Mr. Weasley is correct and you should return to your room and lie down. Mr. Weasley, ladies, I leave him in your charge. If there is any change in his condition, please contact me immediately." As she started for the doorway, a very troubled looking McGonagall turned back to them, "And Harry, try and get some rest. We can talk more in the morning if you wish."

The pain had now reduced to a dull throb and Harry looked to his friends, "No, I’ll be ok, don’t let me spoil your evening. Everyone spent so much time getting preparing for this and you all look so great…"

"Shut up, Harry" Ginny said firmly, taking his other arm. "We’ll just have our own quiet party back in Gryffindor tower. Now let’s go. Luna, can you get the door?"

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Harry woke to Ron’s thunderous snore from across the room. Trying to recall the events of the past evening, he felt a pang of guilt as the cobwebs slowly cleared from his memory.

The evening had been a fiasco. However, the girls really had been good sports about the whole episode. After escorting Harry back to the boy’s room, they had talked late into the night about school, the Order, and life. As one would expect, the conversation eventually wove its way to their missing friend, which had the foreseeable effect of casting a dark pallor over the four and bringing an early end to the evening.

Deciding breakfast may help the emptiness he felt Harry took a quick shower, and with a now conscious Ron, headed for the Great Hall.

Midway through their meal, a chorus of owl screech could be heard as the morning post arrived. Harry had continued receiving Hermione’s Daily Prophet for her. He found it left him with the sense that she was just unavailable, not really gone, since that was something he just wouldn’t accept.

As he dropped the paper onto the table, a familiar word caught his eye and he began to read.

Attack in London!

A local London establishment, The Wizard’s Lair, was destroyed last night in a devastating attack by presumed followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Patrons of the establishment had no warning as the room exploded around them.

Survivor, Toby Hawkins, had this to say. "Right scary it was. One minute I’m sipp’n me drink, the next I be blasted ‘ta the back alley. T’ weren’t noth’n left I tell ya. Old Mundungus, he took a face full of it he did. Weren’t a pretty sight, no, not pretty at all."

The man Mr. Hawkins referred to was Mundungus Fletcher, one of seven people killed during the attack.

Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, responded to the attack with the following statement, "This is a most unfortunate event and I am confident the Ministry will find those responsible. I assure you, the people of the wizarding world can sleep soundly knowing that their Ministry has the issue well in hand."

This is the first attack by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named since the devastating battle fought in the town of Hogsmeade, where Hermione Granger, close friend of the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter, was kidnapped. At this time, no clue to her whereabouts has yet to be found and no ransom requested. When asked to comment on any developments in the case, Minister Fudge informed this reporter, "I’m in constant contact with the Aurors on the case and they’ve informed me we will have Miss Granger back any day now. We have the situation under control and are moving swiftly."

This reporter asks, is this latest attack just a pre-cursor to more numerous and more violent attacks? Is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named embarking on another march to power? We can only wait and see.

"Bloody hell," announced Ron, "that must have been why old you-know-who was so happy!"

"Yeah, I wonder who else was killed?" asked Harry as he sat staring at the picture of what was left of the Wizards Lair.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, I fear you are correct. Unfortunately, we were unable to arrive in time to catch the Death Eaters who carried out this heinous act. The loss of Mr. Fletcher is a blow to the Order and he will be sorely missed," spoke a sad voice from behind them.

"Professor Dumbledore," choked Harry as he spun around on the bench, "I didn’t see you come up."

"I’m sorry I wasn’t here to speak with you last night, Harry," said Dumbledore. "But, as you have seen in this mornings paper, I had been called elsewhere."

"It’s alright, Professor. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to warn you sooner, maybe you would have been able to save Mundungus."

Resting his hand upon Harry’s shoulder, the headmaster looked directly into his eyes, "Do not take any burden of fault upon yourself, Harry. Blame for this rests solely upon the shoulders of Lord Voldemort and his followers, no one else."

"Now," the twinkle returning to the Headmaster’s deep blue eyes, "I believe you two have a Quidditch game to prepare for. Good luck today, gentlemen."

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

"Welcome students, professors, and guests to the first Quidditch match of the year!" began an excited Lee Jordan. Not having taken the entrepreneurial path of Fred and George Weasley after their legendary tiff with Umbridge during fifth year, Lee had returned to complete his seventh year alone. "The luck of the draw has matched Ravenclaw against Gryffindor, and this game looks to be a good one."

The crowd came to life when the introductions were made as each of the teams flew out onto the field and began their warm-ups.

"Let’s make it short, alright Harry?" shouted Ron as he rose to his position in front of the goal hoops.

"What? Oh yeah, right, a short one. Ok, Ron," returned a distracted Harry as he flew to his spot, high above the field.

"Madam Hooch steps to the center of the field and addresses the teams for the start of the game," announced Lee to settle the crowd.

"Alright then!" Madam Hooch bellowed to all those floating around her, "I want a clean game! Ready!" and she released the Quaffle.

"And the game begins!" shouted Lee. "Ginny Weasley takes first possession of the Quaffle for Gryffindor. This is Ginny’s first year on the Gryffindor team and if she’s anything like her brother’s Gred and Forge, we can expect great things from the youngest, and most attractive Weasley."

Seeing the stern look he was receiving from McGonagall, Lee opted to continue with his commentary, "Weasley passes to Bell, Bell to Creevey, back to Bell, she takes the shot… blocked by Heavenhorst of Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw moves the Quaffle up the field, Jansen to Winthrope, Winthrope to… whoa, almost taken out by a well-placed bludger by Dean Thomas; Winthrope spirals and passes to Jansen who shoots and… scores. Ten points to Ravenclaw."

"Creevey takes possession and begins his move up the field, passes to Wea… intercepted by Winthrope… he shoots… another ten points to Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor Captain and keeper, Ron Weasley, is not having a good go at it today it seems," and the Slytherins couldn’t have agreed more.

Fanning the flames of insult for the two so quickly scored goals, the entire Slytherin tower could be heard chanting the refrains of "Weasley is Our King" to the dejected Ron.

The game continued on at a squalid pace for the Gryffindor team as Ravenclaw dominated them mercilessly for the next hour. It was as if the soul of the team had been taken from them and their motions were only those of mindless drones.

And indeed, their soul was absent, for spiraling slowly above in a large figure eight, Harry hadn’t even noticed the countless scores by Ravenclaw. His mind was far away and shrouded in a mist of self-reprisal.

‘Another member of the Order, gone. I should have been able to help, not worrying about some bloody dance. Just like I should have been there for you, Hermione. Why did I listen to you? I should have stayed with you and Ron, not gone off to play the hero,’ he chastised himself.

‘Where are you, Hermione? What have they done with you? Did they kill Mundungus because he was getting too close? I know you’re still alive, I can feel it, but I just don’t know how to find you. I tried using your DA coin, but you were already gone. What should I do? You’re the brains of the group; what would you do? Go to the library I suppose, but looking for what? I…’

Unconsciously, Harry reached out and snatched at the annoying glint that kept buzzing around his head, ‘… don’t even know where to start looking. I feel so useless without you here to help me. They have me locked up here so tight I might as well be in Azkaban! Bloody Dumbledore won’t tell me anything! The rest of the Professors are no damned help either.’

The crowd stood in stunned silence as they watched Harry continue on his loops of the field. Fearing something was very wrong, Ron slowly rose along with the rest of the Gryffindor team to the center of the field and waited for Harry. Continually muttering to himself, Harry passed between his teammates as though he was weaving a gauntlet of students on his way to class. On his next pass, Ron slowly came up alongside Harry and while tugging at his cloak asked, "Are you ok? Harry? HARRY!"

"What? Oh, sorry Ron. I… I guess I was a little distracted. I’ll try to keep my attention on the game, I promise."

"That’s ok, Harry. The game’s over," a very sad and a little angry Ron told his best friend.

"What do you mean? Did they catch the snitch?" Harry asked, looking around wildly.

Ron slid his broom over next to Harry’s and placed his hand on his shoulder, "Look in your hand, Harry."

Harry stared down at the closed fist of his right hand and slowly opened each finger to reveal the golden ball of the snitch. "How… I don’t remember… I…" Looking down at the faces staring up at him from the stands and fearing the answer he already knew, Harry asked, "Who won, Ron?"

"I’m afraid they did, Harry, 280 to 170. Come on Harry, let’s head to the showers. I think we’ve had enough for today."

Looking to each of his exhausted and cheerless teammates, Harry’s sense of guilt and self worth tumbled into the dark abyss, as though this had somehow completed the circle of his betrayal; Sirius, Hermione, and now his remaining friends. He struggled to fight the tears as he muttered, "I… I’m so sorry," and slowly turned his broom away from them and floated off towards the castle.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Tonks eventually found Harry hours later, cloaked in disgust and self-pity, sitting alone in the Owlery. Even the owls, sensing that this human amongst them bore them no greeting, had either left or remained on the far side of the room. Only Hedwig dared venture forward in an attempt to provide some solace.

"Can I sit down, Harry?" asked Tonks as she stepped towards him from the doorway.

Looking up as he scratched the Snowy Owl behind the ear, "Are you sure you want to be anywhere near me? I mean, let’s face it, Professor, between my gift of losing everyone I care about and your gift of… ahh… nimbleness, it might not be safe being around me."

"I’ll chance it," was her simple response as she gently sat against the stone wall. "We’re all worried about you, Harry: the professors, the Weasleys, your friends, all of us. You have to find your way through this Harry…"

"She’s not dead! I can feel it, Tonks!" yelled Harry as he leapt to his feet, causing a startled Hedwig to flail her way to one of the rafters.

"I… I want to believe you, but we should have heard something by now. I’m sorry Harry, but we have to prepare ourselves for the worst even as we continue to work for the best," Tonks said with a tear in her eye.

"NO! I won’t allow that! She WILL be found, alive and well," Harry blasted as he began to pace the room. "If I weren’t imprisoned here, I might be able to do something productive. But no, just be a good little boy there Harry and toddle off while the grown-ups take care of things! Bullocks! Where has that gotten me? Nowhere!"

Seeing the look of despair on Tonk’s face, Harry’s anger rose. "You’re not any closer to finding her than you were the day she was kidnapped, ARE YOU! But then, how would I know. You and Remus wouldn’t say dung if you have a mouth full of it and Dumbledore, don’t get me started on him…"

"Sit down and ZIP IT, HARRY!" shouted an angry Tonks as she stood, her hair changing from a bubble gum pink to a flaming red. "Enough of this pathetic oh woe is me scene!"

Harry could see that he had stepped over some untold line and Tonks was not about to be deterred, as it was, she was now the one who took up pacing across the room.

"I know you’re Hermione’s closest friend and The-Boy-Who-Lived, but that doesn’t give you the special privileges you so desperately claim to avoid. I’m sorry to break the news to you sport, but you are only sixteen and a student here."

Tonks stopped in the middle of the room and using her fingers to catalog her points, she continued on at Harry. "First off, if this is a ploy by Voldemort to have you come out like some knight in shinning armor after Hermione, doing so would play right into his hands. Second, has it ever occurred to you that putting you into a psychological tailspin might be another motive? Third, how long do you think the Ministry would stand quietly by if any of us, especially Dumbledore, let you go off gallivanting around! About two seconds, that’s how long! Do you want another Umbridge here?"

Tonks walked over to Harry and dropped to her knees in front of him, "I know this hurts, Harry. It’s tearing us all apart inside, but do you really think Hermione would want you acting like this? Walking around either snapping people’s heads off or completely dazed and befuddled? I seriously doubt it. She would want you to pull yourself together and use that head of yours to find – a – way! Your idea of the Locus Distinctus was a good one Harry, why give up now? Sure as Merlin, I doubt she’s given up on us."

Taking a deep breath, Tonks reached out and took Harry’s hands into hers, "And as for Dumbledore, you would do well to look beyond your anger. Take a good hard look next time at how considerably older our dear Headmaster appears these days. The kidnapping, the constant strain of the Death Eaters, but most of all the rage you project towards him, have all taken their toll on him."

Tonks stood up and walked to the doorway, "Go talk to him, Harry. I think you both miss each other more than either is willing to admit. I’ll see you in class and don’t forget what I said about using your head. Good night, Harry."

18. Help From an Unexpected Source

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I’ve been busy with projects (like painting Elf’s room, scouts, etc). My hope is to also post Chapter 18 before this long weekend is over. It’s what you’ve all been clamoring for…

Chapter 16 Summary: Harry collapses at the Halloween Ball and later finds that Voldemort’s pleasure stems from an attack and subsequent death of Mundungus Fletcher. Depressed and despondent, Harry’s mental state hits rock bottom when the Gryffindor Quidditch team loses to Ravenclaw despite Harry catching the snitch without even realizing it. Tonks eventually finds him hiding out in the owlry and makes it clear, in no uncertain terms, that Harry needs to pull himself together and use that head of his to find – a – way!

Chapter 17: Help From an Unexpected Source

It had been several days and long sleepless nights since Tonks had given her speech to Harry and, as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He had been a bit of a prat lately. Oh bloody hell, who was he kidding, he’d been a complete pain in the arse since Hermione had been taken. It’s a wonder they hadn’t hexed him into oblivion.

Through these stormy nights of personal reflection, he had come to realize that it wasn’t simply that his best friend had been taken. No, it was something deeper, much closer to the heart, and it scared him. It had scared the bloody hell out of him, and that’s why he had lashed out at everyone. But by looking beyond his mental anguish, he found salvation from the pain could be found from within. A voice in his head, not surprisingly one that sounded much like Hermione, had chastised him for driving away those who looked to help him.

‘You had better start using that head of yours, Mr. Potter and let those who want to help do so,’ the voice had scolded. ‘I’m not about to rot away here at the hands of these dolts just because of your pride! You’ve a brilliant mind Harry, when you bother to use it, and I think now may be one of those times.’

He never could win an argument with Hermione, he decided, not even one in his own mind. But where should he go, what should he do? He had already exhausted every -- "No!" he shouted to the empty common room. He wouldn’t allow his mind to go wander that path again. Never! Only misery and despair lay there, and he had experienced quite enough of those.

Then, like a single bolt of lightening arching across a cloudless sky, it hit him. If I can’t have her here, then I’ll just have to be her, he realized. And what would Hermione do, he asked? The same thing she always did when confronted with a particularly difficult problem: bury herself in the library, of course!

As this newfound sense of empowerment dawned, Harry felt a sudden surge of strength course through him. A feeling of power and purpose, much like the day he first met Mr. Olivander and was told ‘to expect great things’ as he lifted his wand for the first time.

*-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Harry’s newfound focus carried him through the next day of classes with a determined resolve. He was polite to his fellow students, helpful to the younger ones, and attentive in all his classes, so much so, that he had trouble convincing McGonagall that he wasn’t under the influence of some potion.

Immediately following his final class of the day, Harry practically bound up the stairs and into the library. Not that Harry was any stranger to the library, but with Hermione being gone, Madam Pince couldn’t hide her surprise on seeing him rush through the door and settle himself in at the table the bushy haired girl called her own.

"Let’s see… we’ve about exhausted the current train of thinking," he muttered to him self, "so perhaps it’s time to consult some of the old masters." Searching through the catalogs, Harry eventually came upon the sections of interest and he cast a wide net in hopes his research would uncover something of aid to him. As he lifted the large tomes from off the shelves, he gathered them one-by-one upon the polished desk.

Teachings from the Druid University: Philosophy, Spells, and Potions (2116 BC to 426 AD)

Practical Applications of Haitian Voodoo

Forbidden but not Forgotten Spells of the Chinese First Dynasty

Tibetan Wizards and What they Taught Merlin

The Pythagorean Guide to Arithmancy

Great Sumerian Advances in Astrology and Medicine

Power, Riches, Women – The Aztec Wizard Quetzalcoatl on Getting What You Want!

Harry was a little dubious on that last one, but the bloke had been considered a god by the locals, after all. Maybe he was on to something, maybe he was barking mad; either way, it might pay to check.

He spent the next six hours pouring over the dust-laden volumes, and although he felt he had found several promising leads, he had yet to strike gold. Harry also found the reading rather difficult, as much of the information had been translated millennia ago and many of the concepts of the time were now rather foreign to him. He didn’t let this hamper him in his quest, though. On the contrary, it deepened his appreciation of Hermione and her encyclopedic mind as well as incentivized him to hasten his exploration into the past.

Saddened as she was by the reason for Harry’s determination, Madam Pince finally had to ask him to leave so she could close. However, before he left, she suggested that perhaps, in this case, her strict rule of re-shelving the books could be waived. There they would stay, she assured him, until he could return tomorrow to continue his studies.

*-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

She could hear the argument going on outside but couldn’t understand any of the words. Unfortunately, she didn’t have long to wait to find out.

"Because of you and your pathetic Order, you worthless mudblood bitch, I have to find another place to hide you," Bellatrix roared from the cave entrance. "At least I finally killed off that meddlesome Fletcher!" she finished. As she walked towards Hermione, she began her taunt in a voice dripping with venom. "I asked… I pleaded with my lord to let me kill you and be done with it, but no! I am to keep you alive!" She smiled with a dark and evil gaze. "However, it wasn’t specified how alive… Crucio!"

Hermione’s world instantly exploded into a kaleidoscope of pain. Already gaunt and weakened, her body curled into a fetal position and her stomach heaved. From somewhere in the distance, she heard a scream, the scream of a dying animal, and she contemplated what it might be. As the darkness slowly enveloped her mind, she came to realize the scream, the dying animal, was her.

*-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

She awoke to find herself in a small, dimly lit room that much like her previous imprisonment’s, had the appearance of having not being used for decades. Hearing the rust covered door handle turn, she realized the turning of a key had brought her to consciousness and she froze in the hope of misleading whoever it was that entered into believing she was still unconscious.

As the person approached, she noticed something different somehow. The steps were slow and measured, as if they were trying not to disturb her. She listened intently as a plate of food was set on the floor and water was poured into a bowl. Concluding that it was simply her latest guard delivering her spoiled bread and ration of water, she relaxed, only to leap in fright when a damp cloth was brought against her forehead.

"Who… who are you?" Hermione’s croaked to the timid looking elf, her unused voice straining to produce anything above a whisper.

"I is Zibby, miss. Please, ask no more of me! I am not to speak to you! I… I only wished to… here miss, here is a cloth which you can clean…"

"WHAT ARE YA’ DOING ‘ERE!" came a shout from a man standing in the open doorway. "I told ya’, " the man started, as he kicked the elf away from Hermione, "you were not to talk to ‘er! Food! Water! Who told ya’ to bring these to ‘er? Speak up now!" he commanded, as he kicked the elf again.

"Leave her alone! How can you get an answer when you keep kicking her!" Hermione attempted to scream at the man who was now whipping the defenseless elf with a strap.

Hermione rose onto her shaking legs and leapt forward in an attempt to drive herself between the man and the elf. "Get away from her, she’s done nothing wrong! Hit me if you want to hit someone, but leave her alone!"

"Aye, ya’d like that now wouldn’t ya’ lass! Get me in’ta trouble with me Lord for leav’n marks on ya’," the large bearded man spat at Hermione, who was shielding the diminutive elf behind her. "Aye, but now I knows better ways now don’t I… Crucio!"

Although not as powerful as when cast by Bellatrix, in her condition, any amount of the spell caused bone-jarring pain. After several minutes, he released her as he stepped over her and dragged the cowering elf out by her right leg.

*-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

After their humiliating loss to Ravenclaw, Ron, as the Red Headed Troll, had returned with a vengeance and his never-ending practice and strategy sessions drove them all to the brink. Though, a difficult taskmaster on the field, Ron was learning that a leader wasn’t the one with the loudest voice and had grudgingly earned the respect of his fellow teammates. Through Harry’s example, he was learning to balance the duties of prefect, Quidditch, and his studies and even he had to admit, the results were noticeable.

But after several weeks of the crushing pace Harry had set; trading his time between research, homework, Quidditch, and the DA, it was fast grinding him down and he was forced to admit that he couldn’t do it alone. He needed help, and he knew right where to get it.

"Ron, make sure that you, Ginny, Luna, and Neville are at the DA meeting tonight," Harry said as they headed to class with Hagrid.

"Why, Harry? Something special planned?"

"Yeah, well, I need some help with research but I don’t want everyone in the school to know. Can the four of you come a little early?"

"Well Harry, I’d like to help and all, but I was going to meet with Dean to work on some Beater maneuvers and…" but Ron, seeing the light dim in Harry’s eyes and a look of defeat creep in, caught himself. "Sure, mate. I’ll meet with Dean some other time, but you do remember who you’re talking to, right? The library and I aren’t always on speaking terms, ya’ know."

"Don’t worry, Ron. I’ll take what I can get and, at the moment, you’re it," answered Harry with a smirk.

"I wouldn’t have thought it knew how to read, much less utilize a library," came a contemptuous voice from behind them. "I would have thought that more the arena of the astute young lady, who for reasons unknown, seems to be quite fond of you two boorish lumps. Although, I have noticed her to be on what appears to be a quite extended absence. Has she finally realized her mistake and, shall we say, traded up?"

Ron’s face had grown a blistering red through THRIBT’s unwelcome greeting, "LISTEN, you pompous flea infested mistake of nature, friend of Hagrid’s or not, you say one more thing against Hermione and I’ll… I’ll…feed you piece-by-bloody-piece to Buckbeak!" Turning sharply away, Ron left before THRIBT could give him a retort.

Rising high on his back feet in an attempt to locate Ron’s intended destination, "My, my, a bit sensitive today? Was it something I said?" THRIBT asked.

Harry knelt down so that he could look THRIBT directly in the eye, "Yes, in fact it was! This bickering between the two of you does no good, and I for one would appreciate it if you didn’t harass either one of us about Hermione. It’s difficult enough for all of us without you adding your comments."

THRIBT’s facial features softened as tilted his head to the side, scratched behind his ear, and looked back to Harry. "I believe I may have been in error. Am I to understand that the young lady isn’t on an extended absence?"

"No, she isn’t," said Harry as he sat down on the grass. "She was kidnapped by Death Eaters on our first trip to Hogsmeade. Do you know what Death Eaters are?"

"Yes, I am well aware of Voldemort and the cretin that follow him. My, I do believe I have made a dreadful mistake in my statements to both you and your volatile young friend. Please, accept my apologies to both of you. I meant no real offense," THRIBT said, the most sincere Harry had ever heard him.

"Apology accepted," Harry told the now quite humble animal, "but I believe you should tell Ron yourself."

"Yes, yes, you’re quite right. I will endeavor to find him forth-with. If you will excuse me," THRIBT said as he bounded off in the direction that Ron had gone.

Quite some time later, Ron returned without their four-legged antagonist and bearing an air of confusion about him.

"Something wrong? Did THRIBT find you?" asked Harry.

"Er… yeah, well I think it was him. I mean, it sure looked like him, but this one sure didn’t act like him," Ron stammered.

"What did you two talk about for so long, Ron? You two were gone quite awhile."

"Well, after he apologized for his remark about Hermione, he… a… well, let’s just say we’ve called a truce," Ron said, shaking his head as he sat down next to Harry. "He’s rather sincere about it, actually. And get this Harry, he offered to talk to the other creatures in the Forbidden Forest for us! It seems there’s quite a bit of gossip that travels through there and he’s offered to inquire as to any information on Hermione. "

Harry, now as mystified as Ron, could only manage, "I’ll be…"

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna stepped through the door into the Room of Requirement to find Harry seated in a large overstuffed chair, along with four others that were obviously intended for them.

"What’s up Harry?" asked Ginny as she sat down and curled her feet up underneath her, as it seems all girls like to do.

"You know I’ve been doing research in the library right?" Harry asked the four, who nodded in return. "Well, between everything else going on, I just can’t get everything done and I was hoping that you would be willing to help me. Ginny, Luna, I know it’s a lot to ask, what with OWLs and all this year, but other than Hermione, you four are the ones I trust."

"Don’t concern yourself, Harry," Luna answered for them all, "whatever we can do, you only need to ask us."

"Yeah, Harry. And, you should know by now you don’t even have to ask, get on with it already," Ron chastised his sheepish friend.

Harry pulled the list of topics and current results from his robe and showed it to them. "Pick any you want and feel free to add to it if you think of others," he told them.

"You have a good list here, Harry" commented Luna, "but I might like look into American Indian medicine men and the Ansazi Wizards as well."

"Like I said, Luna, feel free to add to the list. Unless you find something of immediate use, let’s get together before each DA meeting to see what we’ve found," Harry concluded as the first of the DA members started to arrive.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

It had been a few days now, and Harry was feeling much better. Bringing Ron and the others in to help him had been a relief. He still felt a pang of guilt about burdening them with the additional work, but Ginny had threatened him with a particularly gruesome version of her bat bogey hex if he ever mentioned feeling guilty again.

Smiling to himself at the memory, he brought his focus back to the task in front of him, another long and complicated Potions assignment. The increased effort, he had to admit, of working to all hours of the night in order to finish his assignments was paying off. All of his professors, all but one that is, had taken notice and had made a point to complement him on it. Professor McGonagall, on seeing the dark circles and bags under his eyes, had privately expressed her concern to him that he might be over doing things.

"Potter!" Professor Snape snarled as he stood in front of Harry’s desk.

Harry had been so focused on properly brewing the potion, he hadn’t even noticed Snape had left his desk. "Yes, sir?" he asked, trying his best to remain calm.

Snape glared at Harry and then slowly dropped his eyes to the contents of Harry’s cauldron. Speaking loudly enough so that everyone could hear, Snape began, in his slow biting drawl, what Harry believed would be his latest bid at grinding him under his heel.

"Potter, I find it tiring and extremely bothersome that your utter ineptitude forces me to return here, repeatedly, to the back of the room and forsake the attention of those deserving students who have earned the right to be in this class."

Turning to look towards the front and Hermione’s empty desk, Snape then looked back to Harry with what could only be categorized as the smallest of grins and tilted his head towards the front. "Move your things, Potter. Perhaps, if I can keep a closer eye on you I won’t be bothered cleaning up your dismal attempts at potion making."

Harry, was thunderstruck. Was this Snape’s way of acknowledging his added effort? Or, was it was just a new and devious way of tormenting him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. Harry quickly collected his things and started moving them to "their" desk.

As Snape returned to the head of the classroom and settled into his desk, he had one more contribution for Harry. "Oh, and Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for your interruption of my class."

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Harry slowly left the DA meeting and, after quietly closing the door behind him, stepped across the hallway and slid down the wall to the floor. Still hanging from his shoulder was an enormous bag of scrolls filled with numerous hexes, offensive and defensive spells, and a smattering of locator charms. The group had out done themselves. He could barely breathe, as the gratitude he felt had squeezed his heart to the point that he could do nothing more than stand silently and marvel at the length and number of scrolls.

"I… well we, have a confession to make, Harry," Ron had started, stepping over to him after Harry had come into the Room of Requirement. Since it was their usual time to meet, Harry had entered expecting only the other four. But the entire DA was there, including Tonks, standing there in front of him.

"We… ahh… well ya’ see, Harry," Ron stammered, "the rest of the DA, they kind of figured something was up when they saw us in the Library so much. And, well mate, we had a little help." Ron had then picked up and handed him the large bag that he now carried. "These are for you Harry. For you in your fight and for us to find Hermione."

"We all miss her, Harry," Luna added, as she walked over and gave Harry a hug, "and this gives us some way to try and help. Please, we want you to take them and put them to good use."

And, with that, he had staggered out the door.

‘The entire DA did this’ he thought as he ran his hands through his hair. ‘For me and for Hermione! How can I ever… what could ever repay this? Finding you!’ he began as his thoughts drifted to Hermione.

"Now, let’s put these to good use!" he said aloud to no one but himself. "Let’s find Dumbledore and see if these will motivate them to action!"

Harry sped down the hallways until he was in front of the massive spiral stairs. He was about ready to run the gauntlet of the Headmaster’s favorite sweets, when the statue gently moved aside. Seeing this as an open invitation, Harry entered and let the stairs gradually carry him to the highest landing. There he stepped off and walked to the door to the Headmaster’s office and gave a sharp knock.

"Please, Harry, come in," he heard from somewhere behind the door.

As Harry stepped through and closed the door behind him, he asked, "How did you know it was me, Professor? Did Professor Tonks tell you I was coming?"

"She did mention that you might be stopping by around this time tonight, yes," the wizened old man responded, the twinkle in his eyes quite bright.

"Then you know I have these," Harry said with a frown on his face, holding the bag up in front of him.

"No, Harry. I’m quite unaware of what it is that you are carrying in your satchel. Perhaps you would like to show me?" Dumbledore said as he motioned to the chair next to him.

"I… well the DA really, has been researching ancient texts in the hope of finding something we can use to find Hermione." Harry’s said a little too forcefully, his old anger starting to bubble beneath the surface as he looked at the Headmaster. "It’s been almost two months now and nothing. No notes, no messages, nothing! I know the Order is trying… but," Harry looked up now, his eyes full of sadness, and looked directly at Dumbledore. "Is that why Mundungus was killed? Were you getting too close?"

"Yes, Harry. We believe it was. Mundungus had gone to the tavern in an effort to find more information about a cave he had heard about." Dumbledore added with a deep sigh, "Alas, we don’t know whether he was able to ascertain the cave’s location before he was attacked."

"I’m sorry, Professor," Harry said meekly.

"Thank you, Harry. Now, shall we see what the students have found," he said reaching out for the bag.

Handing the bag over to the Headmaster, Harry asked him a question that had been itching in the back of his mind. "Sir? When will I be allowed to leave Hogwarts? Your wards… well, can’t I even go to Hogsmeade?"

Dumbledore placed the scroll he had unrolled onto his desk and the joyous look of discovery in his eyes faded as he turned his attention back to the young man in front of him. "Harry, I apologize for having confined you like that. I felt that in the dark emotional state you were in I had no choice. I can’t describe to you the number of students who came to me fearing for your… safety. The Weasleys, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Lovegood especially, were quite beside themselves."

"And what about you, Professor? Was imprisoning me your only option?" Harry asked with a demanding tone.

"No, Harry, it wasn’t," Dumbledore answered as he sat back into his chair and steepled his hands together before him. "But I reasoned that in keeping you here, I was protecting you from running into Voldemort’s open arms. As for the demons of guilt you carry within, those were something you needed to defeat yourself."

Harry sat a little forward in the chair as he looked across the desk. "You could have at least talked to me, told me what was happening! It’s just like before, keeping me in the dark ‘for my own good’."

"No, Harry. I’m afraid this isn’t like before. This involves Miss Granger and her safety. Allowing you and Mr. Weasley to pursue her captors on your own would have been irresponsible act on my part. I care dearly for each and every student here, and their safety is my primary concern above all others."

Dumbledore leaned forward now and rested his hands on his desk. "Harry, do you honestly believe that had I told you of all our plans it would have made it any easier for you?"

"Yes, I could have…" Harry started, but Dumbledore just looked over the rims of his spectacles at him. "No. You’re right, it would have been worse."

A smile crept across the old man’s face, "And yet, with help from your friends, a good many friends it seems Harry," he said, raising one of the scrolls up from the desk, "you have been able to conquer a number of your demons. All of your professors have made comment on your, and Mr. Weasley’s I might add, new determination."

The headmaster rose from behind his desk and sat in the chair next to Harry. Placing his hand on Harry’s forearm he stated in a hushed but clear voice, "Harry, I know we have had our disagreements. That my past decisions, though for what I perceived at the time to be correct reasons, have seriously undermined your trust in me and I hope to one day again re-earn that trust. But, please do try and see things from my perspective." After a pause, Dumbledore continued, his gaze piercing into Harry’s, "I’ll make an agreement with you. If you swear, on your friendship to Hermione, to not attempt any rescue efforts without my knowledge, then I will lift the wards that keep you bound to the school grounds."

Harry looked up from the floor and turned his gaze out the window to the multicolored trees of early fall. But before he started to speak, Dumbledore had one more thing.

"Let me also add that I am quite proud of you. You have been able to accomplish something that has alluded me for some time. Bear witness to the meaning behind this bag you have brought with you Harry. This bag contains the efforts of students from all houses of Hogwarts. It was not assigned to them, it wasn’t even originally asked of them, but yet they did it anyway. That, Harry, says a great deal."

Harry rose and stood before the window. He placed his hand on the cool glass and thought about everything that had happened; the battle, Hermione’s abduction, his destructive behavior towards everyone, and his soul crushing spiral to rock bottom. Yet, they had never left him. Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, the whole of the DA, even Malfoy in his own odd way, had been supporting him.

Harry turned from the window and looked at Dumbledore’s expression of hope. "You have my word, Professor, and sir… I am sorry. About everything."

"No need, Harry," the headmaster smiled, his eye’s lighting with a brilliant twinkle, "shall we see what your friends have found for us?"

19. Thoughts of Home

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters.

Chapter 17 Summary: Harry takes a page from Hermione’s play book and chooses to research the ancient past for help, rather than resign himself to the loss of someone he fears he cares about more than he can admit.

Hermione finds herself bearing the wrath of Bellatrix once more due to Mundungus getting too close and the Death Eaters having to relocate her again. After awakening from Bellatrix’s vicious Crucio, Hermione finds herself being cared for by a timid elf named Zibby and they both pay dearly for the little elf’s kindness.

Ron follows Harry’s example and finds new focus and determination, and via a surprising turn of events, comes to a truce with THRIBT. With the help of Neville, Ginny, Luna, and the rest of the DA they amass a significant assemblage of the research that Harry has started.

With results in hand, Harry takes the results of the DA’s efforts to Dumbledore in the hope of spurning new avenues to search. Their discussion leads to Harry’s better understanding of where the Headmaster’s heart lies and why he has made the past decisions he has.

Chapter 18: Thoughts of Home

Hermione leaned against the wall of her room, acutely aware of the hard stone at her back. She longed for an escape from the prison where she was held and the people who held her captive. She glanced towards the locked door at the front of the room.

There was no escape.

Suddenly, the floor creaked outside her door and bit by agonizing bit, the doorknob began to turn. Wary, Hermione crawled away from the door and tensed, listening for Bellatrix’s harsh cackle. Instead, a small head, poking tentatively through the opened door, greeted her.

"Zibby?"

The small elf jumped. "Oh, Miss. I is sorry for waking you!" The nervous elf trembled. "I be only wanting to…" Zibby trailed off, cowering behind the door.

"What is it, Zibby?" Hermione said gently. "I’m not going to hurt you."

"I is knowing that, Miss. I am beein’ cousin of Dobby, from Hogwarts. He tell me he knows the great Harry Potter and his friends the Lady Hermione Granger and the great Ron Weasley. She is a good wizard, he says, who be not hurting us elves. She is kind and brave, Miss is, trying to help us elves who have bad masters." Zibby stopped and tensed at the remark regarding her master, as if expecting a blow from Hermione. When none came, she looked at Hermione with wonder in her eyes. "Dobby is right. Miss is indeed a kind wizard."

Hermione smiled. "I’m not so kind, Zibby, it’s just that your so-called masters are very bad." Her smile faded and her gaze turned serious. "Now, tell me, what else have they done to you?"

The house elf hesitated, then said in a small voice, "Masters is hitting me all the time, when I do bad things." When Zibby saw Hermione’s eyes harden and narrow, she continued hurriedly. "I is deserving it, Miss! I is not doing as they say, and I be punished for it!" Zibby cried as she looked around the room for something to beat herself with.

Reaching out to restrain the diminutive elf, "Zibby, you shouldn’t be punished for doing something wrong! It’s not right," Hermione said firmly.

Zibby shook her head. "I is able to take what they give me, Miss, but it is not just I they is hurting. Masters is hurting people, lots of people. Not just grown wizards, but Muggles and children too." Zibby looked at Hermione. "They is not like you, Miss. You is kind, and gentle, and brave." Zibby leaned in towards Hermione. "So, I is to be helping Miss escape from my Master."

"But Zibby, they’ll kill you if they find out! No, I can’t let you. I’ll find some other way," Hermione gasped as she reached for her new benefactor.

"No, miss. They not find out. Zibby has it all figured out," the elf said as she took a step back. "I is going to weaken the locks on your bindings. Miss can use this fire grate to bend them open a bit," she said, pointing to the large fireplace across the room. "You be ready. Next night, I keep Master busy whiles you run. Run far, miss, run towards the valley at the foot of the mountains, then on to where the sun sets. Never stop, miss, not for anything or they’ll find you," and with that, the elf disappeared.

Hermione feared for the elf’s safety, but weeks of hunger, thirst, and little sleep brought forth a ravenous craving for freedom. Examining the shackles on her wrists and feet, she noticed that they had become loose and rattled when she shook them. Scampering over to the fireplace and the ancient cinder covered grate, she saw what Zibby had meant. The forward tines of the grate were flattened with a decorative twist. Carefully, so as not to get any tell-tale ashes on her, she slid the tine between the plates of the lock and with all her might she tried to pull the plates apart.

After only several minutes of intense effort, Hermione was exhausted as she sat back to view her success. Only a millimeter or two; still not enough she found as she tried to squeeze her hand through the rusted clasps. ‘This will be a long night,’ she thought as she took a deep breath and attacked the cuff once again.

*------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

"Excellent, Ginny! That new move you’ve added to your roll should keep those Hufflepuffs guessing," Ron shouted to his sister as she scored yet another goal on her brother.

Ron was much more upbeat these days and he passed his enthusiasm on to those around him. The last game before the holiday break was the coming weekend and though he had been practicing them incessantly, the Red Headed Troll was taking a break.

"Come on, Harry. Haven’t you caught the bloody snitch yet?" he hollered to the raven-haired seeker above.

"Three times already, Ron," Harry responded, amused at his friend’s antics. "I think the poor thing’s getting a bit dizzy. What do you say we call it a day and get something to eat? We just have time to change and get to the Great Hall," Harry cajoled.

"Aye, as much as I hate to." Ron sped away from the goals and out to the center of the field, "Alright everyone, brilliant practice. Just one more to go before the game. Let’s clean up and chase Harry to the dinner table!" And with that remark, he flew as fast as his broom could carry him to the changing room.

"I knew the mention of food would get to him," Harry muttered as he sped after the rest of the team.

Harry was the last to arrive at the evening meal to a smirking table of Gryffindors. "I hope you can move faster than that during the game, Harry, or we’re all in a lot of trouble," Ron tried to say past a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Ha, Ha, Ron. Taking up comedy now, are we?" Harry chided as he took his seat next to the empty spot where Hermione would sit.

"Harry, has Dumbledore made anything from the scrolls we gave you?" asked Ginny from across the table.

"Not much yet, but they’re working on it," Harry said looking across the mountain of food provided by the house elves. "He keeps saying how impressed he is by what everyone found. Quite useful he thinks. They’ve tried one of the locator charms and found an abandoned house in southern Wales. It seems the charm is for finding where someone has been, rather that where they are. He’s working on modifying it, but it might take some time."

"What about the other spells we found? You know, the offensive and defensive ones?" Ron asked as he reached across the table to stab another slab of roast pork.

Harry parried Ron’s fork and snatched the roast from an astonished Ron. "He’s discussing them with Tonks and Mad Eye. Some of them were a bit on the harsh side, he thought. I mean, making someone’s eye explode into the back of their head is a bit permanent. Doesn’t leave much for a trial, now does it."

"Thanks, Harry. I believe I’ve lost my appetite now," muttered a queasy looking Ron.

"Still too good for Bellatrix," Neville muttered from beside Ron, "after everything that she’s done."

Harry tried to eat the pilfered roast as he thought about Neville’s comment. Harry had lost his parents before he was old enough to really remember them. Neville, on the other hand, had known his parents quite well before they ended up in St. Mungos at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her subsequent battle with him at the Ministry and the kidnapping of a close friend only added to his resolve for revenge.

A resolve that Harry knew all too well. A revenge that he knew in his heart would ultimately end with someone’s death, Harry’s, or Voldemort’s.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Hermione could now slip the shackles on and off without eliciting too much pain. Not wanting to injure her ankles to the point of hampering her escape, she had spent extra time prying and bending the rusted clasps.

The day had gone by unnoticed but for the brief visit by Zibby with her ration of spoilt bread and water. That had been several hours ago and the veil of night flowed like a river of crimson across the western sky.

‘Run towards the mountain, then west along the valley,’ Hermione thought to herself, remembering what Zibby had told her. She scavenged anything of possible use she could find within her room. A coat hanger that she sharpened to a point in the fireplace, cord from the drapes, a flake of glass from a broken mirror. Not much, but she had always found that her most formidable weapons were her mind and strength of will.

"Alright," she said, smiling and thinking of seeing Harry, Ron, and the rest of her friends again. "Stubbornness, I believe you call it. And that, I have plenty of."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Night fell upon the room, and Hermione waited eagerly for darkness to completely descend upon the house. All she had to do now was wait for Zibby to come unlock the door so she could escape to her freedom, friends, and life.

Only a few minutes had passed before the door opened slowly and Zibby crept in.

"Miss? It is time for you’s to be escaping now, Miss." Zibby said softly, her voice laced with urgency.

Hermione quickly slipped the loosened shackles off, stood, and started towards the door. Turning to the elf, she knelt down and looked the creature in the eye.

"I don’t know how to thank you, Zibby. You’ve saved my life. I…" Hermione trailed off, not knowing how to express her gratitude.

Zibby shook her head. "I has done nothing, Miss. Only helping you to escape from a bad place where you should never have been." Zibby hesitated before adding, "And Miss, there are not many wizards who be help’n us. We be thank’n you, all of us elves, and that is why I is helping you escape."

"I promise you, Zibby," Hermione said sincerely, "that as soon as I get back to Hogwarts, I will help all the elves to finally regain some of their rights. I promise," she repeated.

Zibby opened the door. "Wait a couple of minutes, Miss, while Zibby is distracting Master. Then, you run fast, for if Master is catching you, he be angry, very angry," Zibby cautioned. "Be careful, Miss."

"I will, Zibby. I hope you find a way to get away from these horrid people soon. You don’t deserve this wretched life," Hermione said, regret lacing her voice.

"Zibby is fine, Miss. Zibby is only hoping Miss will be, too." With that, the elf vanished, leaving Hermione to stare at the place where it had stood. She silently thanked the little creature that had given her back her freedom.

After several minutes, Hermione crept out the door, watching for any signs of movement. If she got caught now… she didn’t want to think about what would happen to her.

She moved slowly towards the forest in front of her. Every noise made her stop and tense. She imagined every rustle of the leaves, every skitter of an animal, was a Death Eater coming to capture her and drag her back to her prison. When she reached the edge of the forest, she sighed in relief. She had made it. The hardest part was over.

"Hey! Wha’ d’you think yer doing over there!" a furious voice yelled. "Yer in big trouble now, ya’ good for nothing elf!"

Hermione gasped, oh what had Zibby done? She could hear the murderous tirade that oafish bastard was flooding upon the defenseless creature. Her instincts told her to run, and run she did. Wasting no time, she darted into the leafy underbrush, jumping over tree roots and plants. Low-hanging branches scratched her arms, and bushes cut her legs, but she gave no thought to the pain. Her only thought was of escaping.

After several minutes of running, she slowed, unable to run any longer. As she leaned against a tree trunk for support, she strained her ears, listening for any signs of a pursuer. All she heard was silence. After a few moments, she was reassured that, for the moment, she was alone in the forest. Now the only thing she had to worry about was finding Hogwarts.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The DA had gone well the previous night. Tonks had brought some of their newly discovered defensive spells and the class had practiced well into the evening. As a reward to the five DA members who had initiated the research, and as a bit of incentive to the other houses, Dumbledore had awarded fifty points to Gryffindor and ten points to each of the others. As news of this spread through the school, it caused a rush on the library the likes of which Madam Pince had only dreamt of, while the Headmaster simply sat back and enjoyed the mayhem with a devilish twinkle in his eye.

Tonight though, was Quidditch practice. Since it was their last before the Hufflepuff game, Ron had called for an early start. The practice had been going for a few hours with most of the team working on the nuances of a new play Ron had devised, while Harry spent his time catching and releasing the snitch. A light rain had begun to fall in the crisp autumn air and the sun was beginning its grand exit to await the call of another day.

"Impervius," Harry pronounced a bit sadly, as he pointed his wand at his glasses. "Thanks for that one, Hermione."

He had just adjusted his glasses so they wouldn’t slide off his nose, when he caught a brief glint of gold under the far goal posts. "Perfect setup for a Wronski Feint," Harry muttered as he sped off in a small explosion of spray.

As Harry came weaving through them, one-by-one the rest of the team stopped mid field to watch what they knew would be a spectacular catch. Once past the last chaser, Harry arced up and flipped over into a reverse dive. With the ground approaching at a dizzying speed, he started to pull fiercely at his broom handle in an attempt level out next to the snitch. It was then, like the raw torture from a Crucio spell, that a pain from his scar engulfed his entire body and he fell.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

"INCOMPETENT WITLESS FOOLS! CRUCIO!" the shrill voice declared to the three writhing in agony at his feet.

"B… But…my… ahh! But… my… Lord?" struggled Bellatrix through the pain.

"SILENCE WOMAN! You have failed me! I do not want to hear your pathetic excuses. Pray that I let you live!"

Several minutes passed and Voldemort sensed that Bellatrix’s mind was near the breaking point. As he slowly released her, his attention now became fully focused on the remaining two. "Beg for an end to this! Give me your body, your mind, your… soul," he hissed as his eyes glowed a blood red. Voldemort increased the intensity until the sickening sound of shattering ribs, spine, and limbs could be heard. "Incendio!"

When the flames had consumed the remains of the two who had been tasked to guard Hermione, Voldemort strode from the room and shrieked, "Remove them! Dump their remains in with a herd of swine. Place my dear, sweet Bellatrix in a pit of the swine’s offing!"

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

The brief rain shower that passed overhead had not quenched the thirst that burned the back of her throat, and the hunger, even for a slice of mold covered bread, was now a constant companion. She had searched the brambles for berries of any kind, but the forest animals had already taken their fill.

"I’d even settle for one of Hagrid’s Rock Cakes," she muttered to the trees as she fought her way through the snagging branches of a thicket. "I wonder if a Blast-Ended Skrewt can be boiled like a lobster, with garlic and oh… lots of butter."

Hermione continued wandering a drunkard’s path through the dense underbrush, the evening mist drifting through the naked forest canopy bringing a hush to the carpet of leaves decorating the gnarled roots. The dampness of the air chilled her to the bone, but her mind was such that it went unnoticed. The rising moon provided her no solace through the clouds and the darkness of night became complete.

She tripped over a hidden branch and tumbled down into a small trench, becoming hidden in the mounds of wind blown leaves that lie at the bottom. "That’s ok, Parvati. I think I’ll just rest here in the Common Room tonight and wait for Harry. See you in the morning," and with this comment to her imagined roommate, she was asleep.

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

A pale red light began to filter through Harry’s closed eyes and invade his conscious thoughts. Across the room, he could hear Ron discussing something with Madam Pomfrey about Quidditch on Saturday. He opened his eyes to ask what was going on, but was greeted with a wave of dizziness and a pounding in his head that threatened to excise his lunch in a most undignified fashion.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you’re awake," Madam Pomfrey cheerfully announced, noticing that her most frequent customer had once again reclaimed his status amongst the living. "May I recommend a new and less dangerous sport, Mr. Potter? Something like croquet, perhaps? Is it not enough you have a bed dedicated to you, must you have the entire wing as well?" she chastised as she went about evaluating his condition.

"You’ve taken a rather nasty bump to the head, Mr. Potter. Though I don’t see any permanent damage, this time, I will want you to stay here tomorrow so I can keep an eye on you. I’ll inform your professors in regard to your absence from their classes." She turned to face Ron, who was lurking nervously behind the privacy curtain, "No more, Mr. Weasley. I want him to get his rest." She raised her hand to cut off the impending question, "And regarding his participation in Quidditch, we will see what his condition is tomorrow evening."

"May I have a word with him, Poppy?" came Dumbledore’s voice from the doorway.

"Certainly, Headmaster. But please, nothing too stressful, he does need to rest."

Taking the chair next to Harry, the seat normally occupied by Hermione in these circumstances, Dumbledore smiled and offered Harry a Lemon Drop that he had drawn from his robe. "Harry, I must ask. Was this simply an unfortunate accident or is there something I should know about?"

Leaning up on his left elbow, Harry attempted to explain to the Headmaster the events as he remembered them. "It was my scar. I was diving for the snitch and the last thing I remember was my scar hurting like I had a nail being pounded into my skull. Other than a Crucio spell, I’ve never felt such pain. My whole body was on fire. Then, I woke up in here," he finished as he lay back down to stare blankly at the ceiling. "Something happened, Professor. Something Voldemort is terribly upset about, with complete and utter fury." He hesitated before asking quietly, "Was there another attack?"

"No, Harry, at least none that we have been able to discover. How does your scar feel now?"

"A dull throbbing ache, but that describes my whole body at the moment," Harry quipped, smiling dryly. "It’s better, though it seems he’s still pretty upset about whatever it was that happened."

"Alright then. I’ll let you rest so that you may complete your recovery." A small smile appeared as he added, "Though I fear our Mr. Weasley may end up in the bed next to you due to deep concern regarding a certain Quidditch match."

*---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

Hermione awoke from a nightmare, screaming for the Death Eater pulling on her sweater to release her. She grabbed at the hand that had her sweater, jerking and twisting to break free from the rough misshapen appendage. She fought desperately until realization slowly crept through the haze of her nightmare bewildered mind that the hand was merely the root of a tree protruding from the cold ground on which she had slept.

Looking through the stark limbs of the trees above her, she could see enough through the clouded sky that it was mid morning. By what was now unconscious habit, she rose and started walking west along the valley floor. Tired, parched, and ravenous, she had little choice. To stay was to be found and die at the hands of the death eaters, to move provided some hope.

Hours passed as she careened blindly towards an uncertain destination. Time was measured in steps, one after the other, until feet turned to miles, and she lost all sense of direction. On an on she dragged herself, until she finally collapsed onto the hard forest floor, unable to move another inch. Lack of water and food created a massive headache and the world around her spun, further inhibiting her already delusional mind.

"Hermione?" a distant voice called. "Hermione?"

Slowly, the fact that someone was talking to her broke through the haze in her mind. Her eyes opened, and her disoriented gaze latched on to the figure standing a few feet before her.

"Ginny?" she slurred in stunned disbelief. She grasped onto a tree branch and pulled herself up. With a dizzy sway, she stumbled over to the redheaded girl. It was over, she was saved, she could go home. "Ginny!"

She reached out to hug Ginny, and lost her balance when her arms met nothing but air.

"Huh?" Confused, Hermione turned around, frantically looking everywhere around her. No one was there. It had all been an illusion, a mirage created by her exhausted and disoriented mind. Never before had her mind betrayed her so much.

Despondent, she collapsed again. She was alone still, with no knowledge of where she was, where she was going, or if anyone was even looking for her. She could have been a hundred yards from Hogwarts, or a hundred miles. Hunger, thirst, and the desperate wish for safety pushed her on, as she stumbled towards the sunlight that filtered through the pine near the end of the forest.

Trudging on, the hours soon passed and she grew weary. Lowering herself to sit on the forest floor, "I wonder if leaves are good to eat," she mused.

"I ate grass once when I was little," a familiar voice said, "and it didn’t harm me at all."

Her gaze widened at the familiar figure in front of her. Despite the warnings in her mind that said he wasn’t really there, her ecstasy at being found prevailed, and she ran towards her friend. "Harry!" He was finally here; she could go home, away from the dark forest. "I can’t believe you’re really here!"

She leapt towards her friend, her arms opened to embrace him and collided with the ground below, moaning in pain. "Ouch."

After a few stunned moments, reality set in. ‘No one’s here. Harry wasn’t here, Ginny wasn’t here, no one is here. I’m alone. I’m never going to get out of here.’ Despair tore at the fortress of her mind, at her very will. All she wanted was to go back to Hogwarts, to her home. She wanted to see her friends and teachers again, sleep on a comfortable bed, drink something from a cup rather than lick it from a leaf. ‘I’m going to die here,’ her mind howled. Her fingers clawed at the ground and tears of frustration fell as she came to realize her fate. She pictured again her home for the last six years, and longed for the warmth of Hogwarts. In her mind’s eye she could see the comfort of Hagrid’s cozy hut, the sun reflecting off the lake, the towering stacks of books in the library, and crowds cheering as players zoomed around at the Quidditch field. The sharp images these longings conjured caused her soul to weep and her mind to cry out in torment. As her world darkened around her, her thoughts reached once more to that place of refuge and the keeper of her heart as the world went black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry sat atop his broom, shivering slightly as another gust of wind blew, and rubbed absently at his head. He still had a pounding headache that resulted from his earlier crash, and found himself struggling to focus on the game. Forcing himself to glance around for the elusive golden snitch, he moved slowly through the air in a languid figure eight.

A bell clanged. "Another ten points to Gryffindor!" Harry smiled slightly. Overcoming their previous depression and apathy from Hermione’s absence and the defeat at the hands of Ravenclaw, the team had pulled through and was winning decisively over the Hufflepuff team.

"A spectacular block by Gryffindor’s keeper, Ron Weasley! He’s certainly at the top of his game today!" Even as he cheered for his friend, he winced and rubbed his head. He had declined all offers of potions for fear that they would interfere with his ability to play in the game. Plus, he had though that by admitting he needed a potion, Pomfrey would immediately think him not well enough to play and send him back to the Hospital Wing, a place he fervently hoped to avoid the rest of the year. So, he politely declined all offers before running as fast as he could away from the Hospital Wing.

His mind drifted to all the time he had spent in the care of Madame Pomfrey. Having been under her watchful eye numerous times, either as a result of Quidditch accidents, Voldemort, or his minions, Harry smiled as he remembered the nameplate they had placed at the foot of the bed, his bed. Then, there was the time when Hermione been hospitalized for weeks after being petrified. He had thought that had been unbearable. Now, he knew that having her missing was much worse.

He shook his head to rid himself of thoughts he knew would only lead to misery. He turned his attention back to the game, glancing quickly about for the snitch. When he didn’t spot it, he returned to watching the rest of the team make up for lost time.

"Creevy passes to Weasley, Weasley passes to- oh! Nice dodge by Ginny there! She passes to Bell; now back to Weasley. Weasley shoots and… score! Another 10 points to Gryffindor! They just cannot be stopped this game!"

The green side of the crown hissed, while the maroon cheered wildly. Harry grinned madly. Unlike their last game, this match was looking to be a sure win for Gryffindor.

He flew slowly towards the center of the field, still looking for the ever-elusive snitch. Suddenly, a lone figure appeared in the middle of the Quidditch field, swaying slightly before collapsing onto the ground. Slowly, the crowd went silent. Harry stopped and stared, not believing his own eyes. He hovered, not moving or blinking, just staring in disbelief at the sight before him. Without warning, the snitch made its appearance as it hurled itself at Harry’s scar, the sharp impact drawing Harry out of his daze.

"Hermione!" Harry’s joyful shout rang through the silent field as he flattened himself out against his broom and sped down towards her. Once he reached the bottom, he didn’t bother stopping. He lept off his still-moving broom and ran towards Hermione.

She turned to face him, but instead of the joy and relief he expected, all he saw was sadness and despair. He heard her muttering softly as he approached. "Oh no, not again. Please, I can’t take it anymore. Please. No more illusions, no more ghosts, just leave me alone!" as she buried her head into the grass. Confused, he knelt before her and carefully turning her towards him, said in a soft and gentle voice, "Hermione? It’s me, Harry. I’m not a ghost, I’m real." Her eyes slowly started to clear, hope flooding her brown eyes.

"Harry?" she breathed in disbelief. She hurled herself towards Harry and into his arms, laughing and sobbing in relief. It was over. She was free. She was home.

Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, never wanting to let go of her again.

20. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters. With the proceeds of HBP alone, may I recommend simply purchasing Scotland outright?

Chapter 18 Summary: Through the aid of an elf named Zibby, Hermione escapes the clutches of the Death Eaters and attempts to find her way to safety. Weary, nearly starved, and delirious after a week of wandering through the forest, she collapses. Deep despair consumes her mind with the realization that the faces she sees of her friends are only the products of her dire situation and her longing for Hogwarts. But, as she succumbs to the darkness, it is this hunger, this burning need to return which will save her as she inadvertently apparates into the center of the Quidditch Pitch and the arms of those she so dearly missed.

Chapter 19: The Aftermath

After a few minutes of holding her, Harry realized just how thin Hermione had become. He could feel her shoulder blades and ribs through her tattered clothes, and tremors were wracking her thin frame. Concern for her broke through the relief of her return. "Hermione, we need to get you to the Hospital Wing," he said urgently. Hermione vaguely nodded, turned towards Harry, and promptly fainted. Cursing, Harry caught her and scooped her into his arms, noticing with a grimace just how light she was. Wasting no time, he turned and started walking as quickly as possible towards the castle.

Professor Dumbledore came up beside him, his face full of joy and sorrow at the same time. "Harry, she needs to go to the-"

"Hospital Wing, sir, I know. That’s where I’m taking her now. She’s fainted," Harry said quickly, worry lacing his voice. The sooner he got Hermione out of the cold air and into the warmth of the castle, the better.

As he opened the doors to the Entrance Hall, the warm air slapped him in the face. Hermione stirred slightly in his arms and moaned, some of the color returning to her ashen face. He glanced down at her, distressed by her shallow breathing and colorless features.

It seemed as if the stairs somehow sensed the peril in the air and cooperated, taking Harry towards the fastest route to the Hospital. In minutes flat, they were walking down the hall towards the Hospital.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Harry shouted, desperation ringing in his voice. "Madame Pomfrey!"

The medi-witch opened the door. "Now what’s happened to you, Pot-". She gasped as she saw the figure in Harry’s arms. "Oh my goodness! She’s back!" Pomfrey said, astonished. The medi-witch in her was quick to take over, however, and she ushered them inside. "Put her on that bed over there," she commanded Harry. She grabbed several potion vials and hurried over to the bed. "Out of my way, Potter! I need to be able to examine her!" Harry obediently stepped back, never taking his eyes off of Hermione. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly as Madame Pomfrey took Hermione’s temperature, administered various potions, and ran several diagnostic spells. Several times during her examination, the medi-witch frowned and shook her head in concern. After what seemed like hours, she turned to Harry, whose heart was pounding madly somewhere in his throat.

"She’s malnourished, hypothermic, and suffering from severe exhaustion," the medi-witch said. "Furthermore, she’s suffering minor damage as a result of," Pomfrey’s frown deepened, "the Cruciatus curse." Harry’s heart dropped, and despair crept into his heart. The Cruciatus? "Though these injuries are serious, especially the last one, in time, with the proper potions and a few hot meals," she smiled at Harry, "she should make a full recovery."

Relief coursed through him. At the word ‘Cruciatus’, he had been terrified that his best friend would have suffered permanent physical damage at the hands of those monsters. Pomfrey’s words had dispelled his fears and replaced them with an overwhelming sense of joy.

Abruptly, he noticed Pomfrey speaking again, and focused his attention on her. "Now, I’ve given her a dreamless sleeping potion that should keep her asleep until tomorrow. She needs as much rest as possible." She fixed her firm gaze on Harry. ‘Therefore, Mr. Potter, it would probably be best if you returned to your dormitory for the night."

"No," Harry said without hesitation. "I’m not leaving her."

"Mr. Potter, she will be fine here. She does not need you to wear yourself out so that when she does wake up, you are the one that needs to be hospitalized. Now, return to your dormitory. I’m sure Mr. Weasley is wondering how Miss Granger is faring."

"Well, then he can tell me while we wait," a familiar voice said. "Because neither of us are leaving, Madame Pomfrey." Ron sat down next to Harry and met Pomfrey’s gaze steadily. "And with all due respect ma’am, there’s nothing you can say that will change out minds." Harry nodded in agreement. Not even the wrath of Madame Pomfrey or the rest of the year spent in detention would make him leave, and he knew Ron felt the same way.

Pomfrey threw up her hands in exasperation. "Oh, all right, you can stay. But," she added sternly, eyeing the two boys, " you must be quiet. No one else can come in. Miss Granger needs quiet and rest if she is to recover." Harry and Ron nodded solemnly. "We wouldn’t do anything to endanger Hermione, Madame Pomfrey," Ron said, the most serious that Harry had ever heard him. The medi-witch’s face softened as she said, "I know, Mr. Weasley." She gave a small smile. "I dare say some of Miss Granger’s stubbornness regarding visiting hours has rubbed off on you two." With a wink at the two boys, she turned and went into her office. Harry and Ron glanced at each other before bursting into laughter, releasing all their built up worry and tension.

"Can you believe it?" Ron asked as he clutched his sides.

Harry wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I didn’t think Madame Pomfrey knew how to wink!"

After a few more comical moments, they sobered up, the grins fading from their faces and the laughter from their eyes. Ron turned to Harry and asked in an anxious voice, worry once again etched on his face, "Do you really think Hermione’ll be okay?"

Harry nodded, his voice confident as he said, "If Madame Pomfrey says she will be, then she will be. If she didn’t know what she was doing, I don’t know where I’d be right now." A grin flitted around the corners of Ron’s mouth. "That’s true," he admitted. "You’ve been here more times than anybody!"

"So I know what I’m saying," Harry said assuredly. "Hermione will be just fine. Couple days of rest and some of Hogwart’s food, she’ll be back to normal in no time, passing around S.P.E.W. badges to unsuspecting first years and running to the library to research an essay that's not due for a month," Harry said, fond amusement in his tone. Ron’s grin widened. "Yep, that’s our Hermione," he said, reaching for Hermione’s motionless hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry walked over to the other side of the bed and took her other hand. The two sat there silently, watching over their friend. "We won’t leave you, Hermione," Harry said softly. Silently, he added, ‘I won’t leave you.’

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Let me up!" a shrill voice exclaimed. "I’m not an invalid, I’m perfectly capable of walking around this bloody wing without any help!"

"But, Hermione-" another voice pleaded.

"No! I’m perfectly fine, Ron! I’ve been in here for three days now, and I’m tired of doing nothing!"

They glanced at each other before nodding, knowing they wouldn’t be able to win against the determined witch. "Okay," Harry said reluctantly. "You can get up, but don’t overdo it, Hermione."

Hermione sniffed indignantly before smiling at them. She threw back the covers and stood. Harry watched closely for any signs of dizziness of unsteadiness, but they were either nonexistent or well concealed.

After standing for a few seconds, Hermione promptly headed towards the door to the castle hallways. Just as she placed a hand to turn the knob, Harry and Ron jumped into action.

"Hermione!" Ron scolded. "What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?"

"Leaving, of course," Hermione said, her voice calm but firm. "

"You can’t leave!" Harry cried. "You still need to rest-"

"Rest?" Hermione responded furiously, her voice outraged. "All I’ve been doing is resting! You haven’t let me out of bed, other than to use the loo, for the entire time I’ve been in here! I need to get up, I need to move, I need to do something!" By the last words, her voice had grown louder and she was shooting a feral look at the boys.

Ron and Harry exchanged apprehensive glances before speaking, carefully choosing the words they hoped wouldn’t upset the seething witch before them. "Hermione," Harry said in an attempt to placate her. "We’re not trying to keep you from doing anything, but you’ve been through a lot, and we don’t want you to-"

"Oh, please." Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "What about all the times that you’ve been in this same wing! We could never manage to keep you in here more than a few days!"

"I’ve never been tortured, harassed, and kept against my will by Voldemort and his minions!"

"What about the TriWizard Tournament?" Hermione countered. Harry opened his mouth, then closed it when he could think of nothing to say. Hermione smiled triumphantly. "You see? Now let me leave!"

Recovering from his momentary speechlessness, Harry grinned, a wicked look appearing in his green eyes. "Let’s see what Madame Pomfrey has to say about this, shall we?"

Hermione’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she glared at Harry. Straightening her shoulders, she said airily, "Fine, then. Go get her. I’m sure she will agree with me, as she’s not as pigheaded as you two gits."

It soon became clear that the medi-witch was even more pigheaded than the two boys, much to Hermione’s dismay. Even her death glares didn’t seem to face the older witch, who steadfastly refused to let Hermione leave.

"Absolutely not, Miss Granger." Madame Pomfrey said adamantly.

"Why?" Hermione cried in frustration. "I’ve been here for days, Dobby has fed me enough so I feel as though I’ll burst, and I feel fine!" The medi-witch opened her mouth to respond, but Hermione interrupted. "And don’t say I need more rest, because all I’ve been doing this entire time is sleeping and lying in bed, and its driving me insane! If I have to stay in bed one more second, I’ll go nutters!" she appealed in frustration. With her hair tangled and bushy, her eyes wild, and her face red, the Gryffindor witch made a comical picture.

Madame Pomfrey was silent for several moments, staring intently at Hermione, who looked back hopefully.

"No."

Hermione eyes widened, and she was about to shout something when a voice prevented the tirade.

"Ah, Miss Granger. I take it by your… exuberance that you are feeling much better today?" Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he surveyed the disgruntled witch before him.

Hermione nodded, and a gleam appeared in her eye. "I feel much better, Professor," she said innocently, "but I think I’d feel much better if I could finish my recovery in Gryffindor Tower, with the rest of my friends. I think the familiar surroundings would be," she searched for the right word, "beneficial to my recovery and ultimately speed up my healing process."

The wizened headmaster appeared to ponder Hermione’s words. "Well, Miss Granger," he said slowly, the seriousness of his voice belied by the twinkling in his eyes, "that certainly sounds reasonable to me, but I take it that Madame Pomfrey here does not agree with you?"

"Headmaster, the girl is still recovering." Pomfrey said in an aggravated voice. "She needs rest and quiet, two things she surely will not find while amongst her friends in Gryffindor Tower."

"Madame Pomfrey," Harry unexpectedly chimed in, "we’ll watch her and make sure she doesn’t do anything to strenuous."

"There, you see, Poppy?" Dumbledore said happily. "Problem solved. I do believe Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley can be trusted with Miss Granger’s safety and wellbeing. Now, what do you say to releasing Miss Granger?"

Harry could see Madame Pomfrey search for a reason to keep Hermione in her care. Finding none, she reluctantly relented. "Very well, very well!" Pomfrey sighed, irked. "You may go, Miss Granger, but," she added as Hermione’s face lit up, "you absolutely must rest and keep quiet. No strenuous activity, or staying in the library until all hours of the night, or any mischief of any kind. And I expect you two-" she turned to Harry and Ron, who smiled innocently, "to keep an eye on her and make sure she does what I have said. Otherwise, she will find herself back here before she can say ‘freedom’. Do I make myself clear?" she queried, accompanied by a stern look. Harry and Ron nodded silently. Slightly pacified, Pomfrey turned back to Hermione. "Your clothes are located in the trunk at the foot of your bed. Once you change, you can go with your friends back to your dormitory."

Hermione’s face broke into an ecstatic grin. "Oh, thank you, Madame Pomfrey!" She rushed, as fast as she could without falling over, to gather her clothes. Within minutes, she was changed and ready to go.

"Okay, let’s go!" Hermione said eagerly to Harry and Ron. They nodded, and with a final barrage of thanks to Pomfrey and Dumbledore, who were both stifling grins, the trio headed to the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot," the headmaster called after them. "The Quidditch Game that Miss Granger… interrupted," Hermione blushed as Harry rubbed the spot where the snitch had beaned him and the Ron grinned, "was called, so there was no winner. However, it is widely accepted among the school, except by the losing team, that Gryffindor won, as you were ahead by a rather large margin of points." Harry and Ron’s grins widened and they gave each other high fives.

After a moment, Hermione asked, a note of impatience in her voice, "Headmaster, is that all?"

He nodded. "Yes, Miss Granger, for the moment. I merely wanted to inform your friends here of their unofficial triumph in Quidditch. Go ahead to your dormitory. I’m sure you have lots to talk about."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you Headmaster," she said quickly as she surreptitiously pulled Harry and Ron towards the door. "Thank you again Madame Pomfrey, for your wonderful treatment!" The medi-witch tried to appear stern, but failed as a smile spread across her face. "Oh, get on with you," Madame Pomfrey shooed, waving them outside. Hermione needed no further encouragement, and she practically burst through the door into the hallway.

Once outside, Hermione launched herself towards Harry and hugged him tightly.

"Oh Harry, thank you for helping convince Madame Pomfrey let me go! I’m glad you finally realized that I was perfectly well enough to leave!"

‘Well, don’t thank me so soon," Harry said, grinning mischievously. "I meant what I told Dumbledore and Pomfrey. Ron and I are going to make sure you don’t do anything rash and end up back here." He indicated the door behind him.

‘Oh." Hermione’s voice lacked a little of its previous enthusiasm, but she quickly recovered and walked determinedly towards the staircase, leaving Ron and Harry to scramble after her.

Once they were safe in the Gryffindor common room, they curled into the maroon armchairs beside the fireplace.

Hermione closed her eyes, taking in the familiar scents and atmosphere of the common room, listening to the chatter of students around her and the crackle of the fire. "It’s good to be home," she whispered happily.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day at breakfast, Hermione’s stomach was again rejoicing at the delicious feast the Hogwarts elves had prepared. After living on moldy bread and water for weeks on end, the juicy sausage, toast and jam, and other foods were a welcome delight.

"So, who’s staying here over winter holiday?" Harry asked curiously.

"I’m going home," Hermione said. "My parents want me home after… after what happened." Her voice grew quiet towards the end of her sentence. Her face grew sad, her eyes full of memories, but she snapped out of it and glared at Ron. "Ronald! Chew with your mouth closed! You’re sixteen, not six!"

Ron smiled sheepishly and quickly swallowed with an audible ‘gulp’. He shook his head in response to Harry’s question. "Not me," he said as he ate an entire slice toast in one bite, causing Hermione to roll her eyes. "We’re going up to Romania to visit Charlie."

"Oh." Harry’s spirits fell slightly. Although he had been sure Hermione’s parents would want her home, he had been hoping Ron would be staying in the castle.

"My mum says you’re welcome to come with us, Harry," Ron added quickly, seeing the look on his friend’s face.

Harry mentally shook himself. Ron deserved time with his family. He had stayed with Harry in the castle many times before; Harry could get through one Christmas alone. "That’s okay, Ron. You deserve some time with them."

‘Are you sure?" Ron asked doubtfully. "Charlie wouldn’t mind." Harry nodded. "It’s fine. But," he added, a small grin appearing on his face, "you’d better owl me, both of you, or I’ll get you come start of next term." Ron and Hermione both nodded, smiles on their faces.

They continued breakfast in a comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of silverware clanging on plates and the chatter around them. Eventually, even Ron was satiated. As they prepared to leave, they were interrupted by the Headmaster.

"Hello Harry, Ronald, Hermione," he said, nodding to each of them in turn. "I wonder if I may steal a few moments of your time? This won’t take long, but it is rather important." The trio glanced confusedly at each other, but nodded.

"Good," the headmaster said. "The Ministry has seen it fit to bring charges against you, Miss Granger—"

"For what?" Ron cried, outraged. "For escaping a bunch of murderous Death Eaters?"

"Easy, Mr. Weasley," the Headmaster cautioned. "The charges against Ms. Granger are for what the Ministry deems ‘underage apparation’. Since she escaped her captors through an excellent demonstration of appartion, but does not yet have her license, it is considered illegal by the Ministry."

"It’s illegal to escape someone starving you, cursing you, and threatening to kill you?" Harry said in disbelief. "What is Fudge thinking?"

"Minister Fudge believes that he has no choice but to uphold this law, even in Ms. Grangers… unusual circumstances. I tried to argue that those same circumstances are what forced you to apparate in the first place, but he did not share my views, to explain it simply."

"I can’t believe Fudge would sink this low," Ron muttered.

‘I can," Hermione said, speaking for the first time. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. I suppose it was underage apparition, but I would have thought the Minister would allow it, seeing as I was kidnapped by Death Eaters," Hermione said, sarcasm tingeing her voice.

"As did I, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore said gently. "However, all we can do now is explain your side of the story and hope that the Ministry eventually sees common sense."

"Yeah right," Harry snorted.

Dumbledore continued, disregarding Harry’s remark. "The trial date is set for the last week of Christmas holiday. Would it be satisfactory if I defended you during your trial, Ms. Granger?" Hermione nodded. "Very good. Now, I believe you have Care of Magical Creatures next? You wouldn’t want to be late. I know Hagrid is anxious to see you, Hermione." Taking that as their dismissal, the trio said goodbye and walked to Hagrid’s hut.

As soon as they were out of sight, they started discussing the latest developments. Hermione released the anger she had kept hidden in front of Dumbledore.

"I can’t believe those idiots!" she fumed. "Would they have rather I stayed with the Death Eaters? Are they upset that they didn’t rescue me and prove their heroism?" This was the most sarcastic Harry and Ron had seen from Hermione.

"Probably," Harry said simply. "You know the Ministry, ‘Mione. Most of them are a bunch of morons who don’t want to know that anything bad is happening, especially Fudge," he soothed, attempting to calm the furious witch.

"Yeah," Ron added, "with Dumbledore defending you, those charges’ll be dropped in no time at all. You’ll see," he said confidently.

"I’m not worried about the charges so much as I am angry that they were brought up in the first place!"

"I know, but just forget about them," Harry said. Changing the subject, he said quickly, "Look, there’s Hagrid!" The half-giant was waving frantically at them, a huge grin on his face.

The anger left Hermione’s eyes and was replaced by excitement. "I can’t wait to see him again!" she cried happily.

They ran the last few yards to Hagrid and found themselves in a bone-crushing hug.

"I was wonderin’ if ya were gonna make it to class, ‘Mione!" Hagrid said, still hugging them. After a moment, he abruptly dropped them, anxiously looking over Hermione. "Yer alright, Hermione? I did’n hurt ya or nothing?"

She shook her head. "I’m fine Hagrid," she said fondly, with a brilliant smile. "Good as new."

"Good," Hagrid said happily. "You’ll like what I got in store for today’s lesson." He pulled them towards where the other students were gathered. They obediently followed, identical grins on their faces, as they prepared to be entertained during their favorite class.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the week went quickly by, and Ron and Hermione soon found themselves packing for Christmas break. The Hogwarts Express would depart to Platform 9 ¾ the next evening.

"Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Harry?" Ron inquired once more.

"Yes, Ron," Harry said in exasperation. "I’m sure. I don’t mind staying in the castle. I pretty much get the castle to myself. All the other students are going home because their parents are scared of Death Eater attacks and stuff." I’ll get a chance to explore now that there aren’t as many people around." At the look on Hermione’s face he quickly added, "But I’ll make sure to stay out of trouble." Satisfied, Hermione nodded and continued packing. "

The next day came quickly, and all too soon, Harry found himself standing on the steps to Hogwarts, hugging his friends goodbye.

"You’d better stay out of trouble, Harry Potter," Hermione said sternly as she hugged Harry. "I don’t want to come back only to find you’ve been given detention for the rest of the year."

"And you’d better write me," Harry countered.

"Of course I will, Harry!" "Me too, mate!" Ron chimed.

Harry gave them each one last hug before they boarded the carriages and down the path, waving frantically all the while. Harry waited until they were out of sight before going back inside.

He slowly walked through the castle, hearing his footsteps echo in the quiet. The castle felt empty without the hordes of children running through its halls. On a whim, he headed to the Owlery to see Hedwig. The snowy owl hooted happily and nibbled Harry’s fingers in greeting.

"Hey, girl." He sighed. "Looks like it’s just you and me," he said softly. He stroked Hedwig’s feathers idly for a few minutes before leaving, promising to return later. He went up to the common room and it too seemed empty without the groups of Gryffindor students sprawled out on the couches and armchairs, playing Gobstones or Wizard’s Chess and gossiping. He went up to his dormitory, put his pajamas on, and slid under his covers. Closing his eyes, he tried to fall asleep, but failing miserably.

"I never realized how loud Ron snores until now," he said into the darkness. Sighing, he rolled over, searching for a comfortable position. After a few long minutes, he succumbed to sleep.

21. Trial by Fire

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters

Chapter 19 Summary: Hermione recovers from her ordeal with the Death Eaters and Madam Pomfrey while the rest of Hogwarts prepares for the holidays. With her energy, and temper, returning, Dumbledore is forced to reveal to Hermione that she must return during her break to defend charges brought by Fudge and the Ministry of Magic for underage apparation.

Chapter 20: Trial by Fire

Harry couldn’t foster any sense of excitement as Christmas came and went. There was no one to celebrate with, other than the teachers, who he really only saw during meals. He had given Dobby his present, a pair of socks with gold and maroon stripes and another with polka dots, Christmas morning and had enlisted Hedwig to owl Ron and Hermione theirs. Ron received a book on great Keepers in Quidditch History and Hermione a giant compendium on Defense, full of Potions, offensive and defensive hexes, charms, and even defensive transfiguration. He had taken Hagrid his present in person on Christmas day: a cookbook for 101 Ways to Make a Delicious Fruitcake. He hoped that maybe the recipes would lead Hagrid away from his preferred rock cakes and towards something more edible, though barely. In return, Ron given him a book on Wizard’s Chess strategies, to go along with the chess set he had received for his birthday, and a book from Hermione that was oddly like the one he had given her. ‘I guess great minds think alike,’ he thought in amusement. Hagrid’s gift had been his usual – what else – rock cake. Harry had unabashedly stuffed it in his truck, next to Uncle Vernon’s old socks. He valued his teeth too much to try and risk eating one.

Though Harry was the sole student, the castle had been decorated magnificently. Dozens of green pine trees could be found scattered around the castle, as well as mistletoe, ornaments, icicles hanging in the Great Hall, and even a snowman in the Gryffindor common room that was charmed not to melt.

But now, the holiday had come and gone. Although the decorations were still up, the solemn emptiness of the castle echoed in Harry’s mind. He found himself growing lonelier each day, since there was no one his age to talk to. Hedwig had flown repeatedly through the snow to deliver letters and parcels to Harry’s friends, always returning with several replies clutched in her talons. His friends, true to their promise, had written him faithfully during the holiday.

With what little excitement he had mustered for the holiday gone, the days dragged by increasingly slowly. During yet another dull, tedious day, a lone figure sat at the table in the center of the Great Hall, idly shuffling a pair of cards. Boredom was clear on his face as he resigned himself to dealing the cards for yet another game of solitaire.

"Red nine goes here," Harry mused idly, placing the card in its position, "and black queen goes here." Within ten minutes, he had won the game, and was desperately searching for another way to occupy his time.

"There aren’t any other students here, I don’t have homework, and I’m not desperate enough to go to the library just for fun." He grimaced. "Not yet anyway." Leaning back in his chair, he considered the rest of his options, and discovered he had very few. "I’ve already had way too much practice at solitaire, so that’s out. So are Exploding Snap and Wizard’s Chess, since its hard to play those alone." He though for a few moments. "That leaves either staring into space or finding someone to talk too. Since the only people in the castle are teachers, it would have to be one of them. But the only teacher I want to talk to though is Hagrid, and he’s not here." He should know. He had gone down to the half-giant’s hut at least four times already. Hagrid was no where to be seen.

"Ah, but he is here, Harry." Harry jumped as the voice broke through the silence. Spinning around, he saw Dumbledore standing in front of him, looking over his half-moon glasses at Harry, blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

"He is?" asked Harry, somewhat befuddled. "I was just there, not fifteen minutes ago, and I didn’t see him."

"He has only just returned from an errand I sent him on in Hogsmeade. I’m sure he will be thrilled to learn that you were looking for his company and will entertain you with some tea and his… delicious rock cakes."

Harry stifled a chuckle. Hagrid’s rock cakes were hard enough to crack several teeth on. He offered them to Harry and his friends nearly every time they visited, and though he meant well, didn’t seem to realize that his rock cakes were inedible to anyone but himself.

"They are an… unusual concoction, sir," Harry grinned. "I think I’ll head on down there, then. Seeing Hagrid is much better than sitting here doing nothing."

"Hagrid is an excellent cure for boredom," Dumbledore concurred.

Harry stood. "Thank you, sir." Dumbledore dismissed his thanks with a wave of his hand and gestured towards the door. Harry grinned at the Headmaster before talking off, quickly making his way through the halls of the castle and outside. Shoving his hands in his pockets as he met the frigid outside air, he hurriedly made his way to Hagrid’s hut, eager to see his friend as well as escape the cold.

When he reached the hut of his dear friend, The Groundskeeper and Keeper of Keys, he knocked loudly on the door. "Hagrid?" he called.

In seconds flat, the door swung open. "Harry!" Hagrid swept him into a bone-breaking hug. "I was hopin’ ye’d come down ter see me! Come on inside!" He ushered Harry inside, leading him to a chair before going off to pour him a mug of tea. "Right cold weather we’re havin’, even fer this time o’ year! This’ll help ya ward off the chill a bit, Harry." He handed the steaming mug to Harry, who wrapped his cold hands around it and took a grateful sip, wincing slightly as the hot liquid scalded his mouth. He blew some of the steam from it and took another sip.

Once he had thawed somewhat, he asked Hagrid, "Dumbledore told me he had sent you on an errand in Hogsmeade. So what did he have you doing, Hagrid? I came down here a couple times before, but you weren’t here."

"You came down here before?" Hagrid beamed. "He sent me ta get some special sorta fertilizer fer the school plants so they don’ freeze up in this cold."

"Oh." Harry took another sip of his tea. After a moment, he queried, "Anything else new, Hagrid?"

Hagrid shook his shaggy head. "Na, not much for me ta be doing, wha’ with tha students be’n gone and all. Dumbledore still sends me on coupla errands now an’ then, but no’ much. But tha’s ‘nough ‘bout me. What have you been up too? Prob’ly not much for ye to be doing either, seeing as yeh’re the only one in the castle."

"I must admit, it’s been pretty boring," Harry agreed. "I’ve been playing solitaire, that’s a Muggle game," he clarified quickly, seeing the confused look on Hagrid’s face. "The only thing I’ve really been doing is writing Ron and Hermione. We’ve written quiet a bit over break," he laughed. "I think we’ve pretty much worn Hedwig out. Things should pick up in a few days, since Hermione’s coming back in a week, though, for her hearing with the Ministry."

"Wha’ hearing with the Ministry?" Hagrid cried in outrage. "Our Hermione’s never done nothing wrong in her life! Wha’ ‘ave those dolts accused ‘er of, Harry?"

Harry, equally as enraged at the ‘Ministry of Morons’ said scornfully, "They—well, Fudge at least – says that, when she escaped, she apparated illegally because she’s underage. So, she’s being called back in week for her hearing. Dumbledore’s going to defend her."

Hagrid relaxed slightly. "Oh, she’ll be all right then. Dumbledore’ll get her off, don’ worry. Great man, Dumbledore, great man."

Harry nodded. "I’m just angry she’s been called there in the first place," he said bitterly. "Isn’t it bad enough that she had to go through being kidnapped and tortured for weeks? Now that she’s finally back home, they have to punish her for getting away from all of that! There’s no logic to it!" He reflected for a moment. "Of course, there’s never any logic to anything the Ministry does. Fudge has seen to that."

"I’m no’ usually one ta speak bad o’ the Ministry, but that Fudge…" Hagrid shook his head. "He’s bad news, what wi’ all he’s said ‘bout you, and now this business wi’ Hermione…" He shook his head again. "Somethin’s no’ right wi’ the man, tha’s all I can say."

Harry nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. He stayed and chatted for a few minutes until he saw the shadows descending on the castle outside. Standing, he yawned and stretched. "I should probably head back now, Hagrid. It’s getting dark."

Hagrid glanced out the window. "Blimey! I hadn’t realized it was getting’ tha’ late! I’ll walk ya back, Harry." The half-giant stood and pulled his enormous coat on. Harry pulled the wooden door open, and the pair slugged through the snow towards the castle. As they reached the steps to the castle, Harry was thankful he had Hagrid acting as a snowplow.

"Come down an’ see me again soon, Harry. Be grateful for the comp’ny."

"Of course I will, Hagrid. I’ve got to give you your Christmas present, after all," Harry said mischievously.

Hagrid grinned. "Off with ya now! Get inside before ya freeze yeh’re rear end off!"

Harry laughed. He waved to Hagrid in goodbye, swung the heavy door open, and entered. Shivering slightly in the cold, he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Jingle bells," he said when he approached the Fat Lady. She obligingly swung open, revealing the Gryffindor Common room. It seemed just as empty and quiet as it had the day before, if not more so. Sliding under his warm sheets, he drifted to sleep, thinking eagerly of Hermione’s coming back to Hogwarts in a mere few days.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days passed by painfully slowly. Harry would sit in the common room or the Great Hall, idly reading a book or playing yet another game of solitaire, thinking that a half-hour had gone by only to find that it had been in fact ten minutes. He visited Hagrid countless more times and even went up to Dumbledore’s office. They played a round of Wizard’s Chess in which Harry was thoroughly thrashed by the headmaster.

Eventually, the day of Hermione’s return came. Harry stared eagerly out the window of the Great Hall, watching for any signs of her arrival. After what seemed like hours, a carriage pulled up, and Hermione stepped out. Grinning madly, he dashed through to the Entrance Hall, where Dumbledore and Hermione were already waiting.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, rushing towards her friend. She enveloped him in a hug before holding him at arm’s length. "How have you been? Was it dreadfully boring here all alone? Did you like your Christmas present? I wasn’t sure what to get you!"

Harry laughed. "Slow down, Hermione! I’ve been fine here, even though it was incredibly boring, but that should change now that you’re here. I loved my present, thank you very much. How’d you like yours?"

She beamed excitedly. "Oh, Harry, it was wonderful! All the information in it seems so useful, and there’s so much of it! I started reading it, but I’ve barely made a dent!"

Harry grinned. He felt the cloud of loneliness begin to disappear as he listened to Hermione’s excited chatter. Dumbledore watched the pair, his eyes twinkling madly. Harry finally turned to the headmaster. "Hello, sir," he said with a happy grin. "Hello, Harry," the headmaster replied. Tilting his head towards Hermione, he said, "I believe I will leave Miss Granger in your capable hands, as I’m sure you two have lots to talk about. I do ask that you be ready for the hearing tomorrow, Miss Granger."

"Can I come with you, sir? To support Hermione?" Harry asked hopefully.

Regretfully, Dumbledore shook his head. "I’m afraid I would rather you stay here, Harry. The hearing will most likely be uneventful, but even so, I would rather you stayed here to ensure nothing goes amiss."

Harry nodded, unhappy, but resigned to his fate. Dumbledore watched him intently for a moment before saying, "Hermione will, of course, be staying with you in the Gryffindor dormitories." He turned to Hermione. "You’re trunks will be brought up by the house elves later, Hermione, so you can unpack and get settled again." Hermione frowned slightly at the mention of house elves, but nodded. "I leave her in your hands, Harry." With a smile and a nod of farewell, the headmaster departed, leaving the two standing alone.

"Shall we head on up?" Harry suggested. Hermione nodded, and the pair made their way up the flights of stairs before making their way to the familiar portrait. Harry said the password and they quickly found themselves standing in the middle of the common room.

"Even though I was only gone for a few days, I missed the castle so much. It’s wonderful to be back," Hermione said as she curled into an armchair near the fire, content. Harry collapsed on a sofa across from her.

"So, how was your Christmas?" Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, it was wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed. "It was great to get to see my parents again! It almost seemed like… another world, completely different than this one. No wars, no Voldemort, no death, just… life as it should be, I guess." She shrugged slightly.

Harry smiled sadly. "But life is never as it should be, right? I mean, the Ministry’s current antics prove that well enough," he said with contempt.

Hermione nodded, a mix of irritation, annoyance, and anger replaced the melancholic look in her eyes. "Even though I can see why the Ministry is holding this hearing, I still think it’s idiotic," she said heatedly.

Harry smiled ruefully. "I swore before you came here that I wouldn’t talk about your trial," he said. "But there goes that idea, eh?"

Hermione grinned, her attitude becoming more upbeat. ‘I’m not worried," she said confidently. "I think Dumbledore will be able to convince the Wizengamot that what I had to do was necessary."

"Even though Fudge is an idiot, the rest of the Wizengamot seems intelligent enough to see through Fudge’s asinine accusations. Madame Bones seemed sensible enough when I saw her at my hearing last year." Despite his reassuring tones, Harry still had a niggling feeling that Fudge would cause something to go wrong, despite Dumbledore’s predictions of an uneventful day. Slightly annoyed at himself for letting those doubts cloud his excitement at being reunited with his friend, he pushed his fears to the back of his mind.

"It’ll be over soon enough. By tomorrow, it will all be over." Hermione paused a moment. "I do wish you could come, though," she said softly. Harry leaned over and squeezed her hand lightly.

"Me too, ‘Mione. Me too."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry watched dejectedly as Dumbledore and Hermione made their way across the grounds and outside the school gate. Once they were outside the school grounds, they disapparated. Harry stared for a few moments at the spot they had previously occupied before turning and going back inside the castle, apprehension, worry, and fear clouding his mind. Good luck, Hermione, he said silently. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione followed Dumbledore into the Ministry with a mixture of awe, dread, and painful memories. The last time we were here was when Voldemort ambushed us. When Sirius died, she thought sadly. Maybe this time will go better than last time. She could only hope.

They made their way through the halls of the Ministry, the object of several curious glances. The headmaster of Hogwarts was not an unusual occurrence in the Ministry, but a student was.

All too soon, Hermione found herself standing in front of the room where her hearing would be held. It was guarded by an innocuous wooden door, yet Hermione found herself filled with sudden anxiety over what lay behind it. As she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, Dumbledore gave her a reassuring smile. "All will be well, Miss Granger," he intoned calmly. "Remember, you have done nothing wrong." Hermione nodded, her resolve and confidence strengthening once more. With one final deep breath, she turned the handle and pulled the door open. She walked in, head held high, followed by Dumbledore.

The room was darker than she had expected. Its stone walls were cast with shadows from nearby flickering torches. At the front of the room what seemed like dozens of people clothed in deep purple robes were seated in high benches. Hermione only recognized Madame Bones, who was sitting next to the Minister. Fudge was seated in the center, watching smugly as they made their way to the front.

"Dumbledore," Fudge nodded curtly, "Miss Granger. Take your seats. Now that the accused is present, along with her defense, Albus Dumbledore, let us begin."

"This hearing of the twenty-eighth of December," Fudge began, somewhat superciliously, "is to decide what disciplinary action will be taken against one Hermione Jane Granger, for infractions concerning the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Apparation. The charges are that the accused knowingly and deliberately apparated into Hogwarts grounds, which constitutes an offense under Paragraph A of the Decree."

Fudge turned and stared imperiously down at Hermione. "You are Hermione Jane Granger, correct?"

"Yes," Hermione said, her voice steady.

"And you knowingly apparated from an undetermined location into Hogwarts grounds several weeks ago, correct?"

Hermione paused. "No," she said finally.

The members of the Wizengamot began muttering. Fudge’s eyes narrowed in surprise and disconcertment. "What do you mean, no? May I remind you that you are obligated to tell the truth, Miss Granger," Fudge remonstrated, his voice hard and unsympathetic.

"I am telling the truth, Minster," Hermione said calmly. "I apparated without being aware of it, accidentally, if you will. In my desperation to return to Hogwarts and escape from the Death Eaters holding me captive," she emphasized, "I apparated unintentionally into the middle of the Quidditch field at Hogwarts."

"Even so, you admit to breaking the law regarding Underage Apparition, do you not?" All traces of discomfiture were gone from Fudge’s voice, replaced by a superior smirk.

"Yes," Hermione said readily. Several members of the Wizengamot raised their eyebrows at her forthright response. "However," she continued, unruffled, "had I been aware of what I was doing, the fact that I was escaping from being held captive, starved, and tortured for weeks would have been slightly more prominent in my mind than the fact that I was breaking a law by doing so."

‘If I may?" Dumbledore stood and waited for the acquiescence of the court before continuing. "Minister, members of the Wizengamot, although Miss Granger did indeed break the law regarding Underage Apparation, her reasons for doing so were hardly criminal. In fact, they were quite the opposite. The sole motive for her apparation was to escape her captors and return to Hogwarts. She has suffered through weeks of torture at the hands of these Death Eaters. I must respectfully ask the court, who are we to prolong such suffering by bringing her to trial for escaping? Why are we punishing her for fleeing those who we seek to defeat?" With those words, Dumbledore sat, his face calm and serene even as the Wizengamot broke into whispers once more. Fudge fidgeted slightly in his chair, clearly uncomfortable, his face slowly turning red.

"Well—I…" Flustered, Fudge fell silent.

"I must say, Minister," Madame Bones broke in, "that I agree with Dumbledore here. Although the girl did break the law, her reasons for doing so hardly constitute punishment! In my opinion, there is no reason to keep her here. All those in favor of clearing the defendant of all charges?" Bones’s voice rang. After a minute of urgent whispering, the majority of the hands in the room rose into the air. Satisfied, Bones nodded. "Very well. All charges are dropped. Miss Granger," the witch turned a kind eye towards Hermione, "you are free to go."

Hermione smiled and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Madame Bones, Minister," she said as she stood. Pausing, she added hesitantly, "I was wondering, could I say something?"

After a moment, Madame Bones shrugged, then nodded. "I see no harm in it. What do you have to say, Miss Granger?" Fudge simply scowled.

Hermione plunged in. "Since I’m here, I wanted to bring up another aspect of my escape." Madame Bones raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Bolstered, Hermione continued. "The only reason I was able to get away from the Death Eaters in the first place was because of the kind help of a house elf. She helped me remove the shackles that chained me to the wall and distracted her master while I escaped, all at great risk to herself. House elves are remarkable creatures, Madame Bones, but no one ever pays any attention to them because they are considered inferior. To aid them in their plight, I have created an association called Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, or S.P.E.W.. I believe that house elves should be treated as members of society instead of as servants as they are now. House elves do so much for us with little or no acknowledgement, often getting punished if they do something wrong!" Hermione’s voice rose slightly in enthusiasm. "They are not slaves! They should be treated with respect, like creatures with feeling and thoughts. It’s unfair, unjust, and simply wrong."

The end of her speech was greeted with silence. Madame Bones finally spoke. "Well, Miss Granger, your views will certainly be taken into consideration. You made several good points, and I commend you for your… social awareness and outspokenness."

Hermione blushed slightly. "Thank you, Madame Bones, for taking the time to listen."

Bones smiled slightly as she queried, "Is there anything else you feel the need to discuss, Miss Granger?" Hermione shook her head somewhat sheepishly. "Then that will be all." She turned away in dismissal.

As Hermione and Dumbledore walked through the chamber to leave, Hermione stopped and turned to Dumbledore. "Sir, I had one more question, actually."

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. "And what would that be?"

"Just how did I get into Hogwarts? I mean, you can’t apparate into Hogwarts grounds. Everyone knows that. There are all these wards in place and—"

"I am well aware of what wards are in place protecting Hogwarts, Miss Granger, as I created many of them my self," Dumbledore interrupted amusedly. Hermione colored slightly. "In answer to your question, Miss Granger, I simply keyed the wards to allow you, or someone bringing you, to apparate in. Although I believed it was highly unlikely you would do so, I wanted to be sure I had covered all possible avenues. And, as it turned out, your propensity for being far ahead of your peers demonstrated that it was very lucky I did."

"Oh," Hermione smiled in embarrassment, as she absorbed the new information. "I didn’t know that could be done."

"We learn something new everyday, don’t we?" Dumbledore said cheerfully.

Hermione’s response was interrupted by a scream as a door near the front of the hall exploded and swarms of black robed figures ran in, firing curses randomly as they tried to make their way towards Dumbledore and Hermione.

Hermione gasped. Dumbledore pushed her away from the fighting, towards the far corner of the hall. "Stay there, out of sight. Do not fight unless directly challenged," he warned, before running to fight the Death Eaters.

Hermione hid, terrified, behind a wooden bench. The Death Eaters all seemed to be congregating in a circle around Dumbledore, who was standing in front of the Wizengamot bench. Fudge stood openmouthed, staring at the commotion before him. Shouts of incantations rang through the hall, and streams of light shot everywhere, most of them aimed at Dumbledore.

"Protego!!" Dumbledore shouted. A shield sprang up, causing the curses to bounce back, forcing some Death Eaters to dive out of the way. Infuriated, they increased their spell volley. In their anger, some of the spells were increasingly off target, hitting the walls, desks, and ceiling.

Though she was terrified, Hermione felt the urge to join the fray and fight, but heeded Dumbledore’s warning and stayed put, watching anxiously.

Fudge, now raised from his shell-shocked state, was shouting furiously. What he was yelling, Hermione was unable to hear over the din of the battle. Suddenly from somewhere near the door, a flash of green light arced towards Dumbledore. Leaping to the side, the bolt missed the headmaster by the narrowest of margins and passed by only to strike the distracted Fudge square in the chest. His shouts of anger suddenly silenced and his face drawn blank he slowly fell backwards onto a chair, his head tilting backwards, and his eyes vacant.

Almost as suddenly as they had come, the Death Eaters fled, leaving a scene of confusion and chaos behind. The majority of the Wizengamot were staring at Fudge, stunned into silence. Dumbledore immediately hurried to Hermione. "We must leave. Now," he instructed, pulling her out the door. Still somewhat dazed, Hermione followed Dumbledore out of the Ministry, and in no time at all found herself walking back towards the Hogwarts gates.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had been sitting in the common room, anxiously awaiting Hermione’s return from her hearing. She’s been gone for hours, he though agitatedly. She has to be—

Suddenly, a searing pain in his scar cut off his thoughts. Doubled over and gasping for breath, he felt anger raging through him, anger that was not his own.

Harry groaned. "He must be really mad at someone," he managed through gritted teeth. After a few moments, the stabbing pain dulled somewhat and his eyes were able to refocus. Regaining his wits, Harry realized he had to tell Dumbledore.

‘But how?’ he thought desperately. ‘Dumbledore’s gone!’ Running through his options, he quickly decided on McGonagall and staggered out of the common room towards the Transfiguration teacher’s office, praying she was inside.

He yanked the door open with a clatter. McGonagall looked up, startled. "Mr. Potter, what in Merlin’s name is going on!"

"My scar… really bad. Voldemort’s angry…don’t know what," he managed, breathing heavily from his run. The professor paled, and she hastily stood and walked towards the door. "We need to tell Dumbledore about this immediately."

"But he’s not—"

"He just returned a moment ago," McGonagall said shortly.

Harry followed her up the staircases and through the winding corridors until they reached the familiar gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office.

"Canary creams," she said clearly, and the gargoyle slid open to reveal a winding staircase. McGonagall briskly walked up, followed by Harry.

Not bothering to knock, McGonagall opened the door and ushered Harry inside.

Harry brightened slightly when he saw Hermione sitting across from Dumbledore, but his spirits fell once more when he noted the shock and disbelief on her face.

Rushing to the headmaster’s desk, Harry burst out, "Voldemort’s really angry about something, Professor, but I don’t know what."

"I’m afraid I do, Harry," Dumbledore said in a heavy, somber tone. "Minister Fudge is dead."