Unofficial Portkey Archive

With Malice Aforethought

S. P. Smith

It was cold the morning of February the fourteenth.

Harry sat at his house table, surrounded by friends, with Ginny at his side. He fidgeted, uncomfortable. He still hadn't talked to Ginny about much of anything. Every time he tried to say something, the words either swelled up and lodged in his throat or dried up and brought him to coughing. Instead, he was sitting there trying to make conversation and avoid Ginny's inquisitive gaze. He looked around. At least the hall wasn't decked with roses and lace hearts, thanks to Gilderoy Lockheart's continuing convalescence. Harry drummed his fingers on the table, dreading whatever surprise Ginny had in store.

Ron was the first to say anything. He used his chin to gesture at Harry, since his hands were solidly involved in loading crisped ham and egg onto his plate. "You look uptight."

Harry shrugged.

"You're not the only one," Hermione said, pointing at the staff table.

As one they looked up to the head of the room. The usually ramrod straight Professor Snape was slouched in his chair, not even attempting to eat. Professor McGonagall looked up in alarm whenever a a student clattered their silverware too loudly. Tiny Professor Flitwick kept folding and refolding his napkin, and next to him, Hagrid kept picking at the trim on the pink umbrella he had at his side.

"I wonder," Ron thought aloud, "what do they know that we don't."

"Rather a lot, I should imagine," Hermione answered tersely.

Harry nodded. "None of it good, probably."

Ron snorted. "Right little rays of sunshine you two are. C'mon, things will have to get better soon. What's the worst that could happen?"

The doors to the Great Hall were flung open with a grinding boom, startling the firsties down at the foot of the table off their benches for a moment. With crisp precision, a squadron of Aurors in robes of the deepest blue marched into the hall and formed two ranks at the door. Through their lines Auror Dawlish slipped, robes thrown open to reveal simple cotton work trousers, steel-toed boots, and a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

Harry and Hermione turned to glare at Ron, who blanched. "Why did I say that? Nothing good ever comes of saying that. I take it back; nothing worse can happen."

At the head of the room, Albus Dumbledore took his feet and held his arms wide. "Mister Dawlish, this comes largely as a surprise. What can I and my staff do for you?"

"Nothing," Dawlish said simply and quietly. He looked around the hall appraisingly.

Dawlish turned away from the Headmaster, and addressed the slumped Potions Master in a soft voice that was near to a growl. Nonetheless, his voice carried throughout the silenced Great Hall. "Severus Julius Snape, I present you this day with Writ of Arrest, signed by Minister of Magic His Honorable Percival Weasley. You shall present your wand to the Master of the Guard, and be escorted from this place to your confinement at Azkaban prison. My men will be securing your quarters, and any other areas of the castle we might find evidence. Do you understand these orders?"

Dumbledore held out a hand. "I assure you, Professor Snape will be as safe and secure here at Hogwarts while awaiting his trial. Now, perhaps we should discuss this in private..."

"No need," Dawlish said brusquely. "There isn't going to be a trial."

"And can you please inform me," Dumbledore no longer twinkled as he stared at the Auror from over his half moon glasses. "How do you think sweeping innocent men into Azkaban will make the whole of Britain safer?"

"He's not innocent," Dawlish answered patronizingly. "There's plenty of evidence to suspect your ex-teacher there of treason."

"Current Potions Master, actually," Dumbledore corrected him benignly. "And if you do indeed have the evidence you claim is in your possession, why ever would you not bring our good Professor Snape to trial?"

Dawlish sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose like a man weary to his bones. "We don't have time for the niceties, we are at war. And I don't have time to debate Ministry security with a school teacher."

Dawlish snapped his fingers, and gestured to the left and to the right. The first four Aurors jumped forward and advanced on the Head Table. Hagrid bolted to his feet, throwing the staff table over as he pointed his pink umbrella at the advancing contingent. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Vector, and Hooch drew their wands as they stood. To one side of the table, Remus grabbed Snape by the scruff of his robe and pulled the sallow man to cover behind him.

Dawlish went absolutely still. "You are outnumbered, and defending a traitor. You do not want to do this."

"No, I do not." Professor Dumbledore shook his head gravely. "But you leave me little alternative if you cannot find it within yourself to talk long enough to observe the rules of society."

"Society changed." Dawlish sounded a little sad as he said this. "It changed while you were cooped up in this castle with your books and your classrooms. Now, if you do not step out of the way, my men will cut you all down. As I said, you're outnumbered."

Harry looked across the table, and saw Ron and Hermione both turn to catch his eye. Harry shrugged, and Ron nodded in response. Hermione's eyes widened, and she gave a short half-nod. Together the three of them stood up, drawing wands.

The four Aurors turned, finding wands at their left. Across the room, Luna drew a wand and stood. There was a long silence. Harry looked up at the staff table for confirmation, and noticed the Headmaster's small, tight nod.

"Sit down, all of you!" Dawlish barked in a rusty voice. "My mission is to bring in a Death Eater, and that's what I'm going to do. A couple of kids-"

"DA!" Neville called out, his voice breaking on the vowel. "Stand up"

In fits and starts, students stood. From the fifth and sixth year Gryffindors to the seventh year Hufflepuffs, students at every table stood up nervously. At the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle stood. Neither drew wands, but Crabbe had his sock off and was busy stuffing handfuls of silverware into it.

Harry's focus was entirely on Auror Dawlish, but with his contacts, he was getting better at seeing out of the corner of his eyes. For a moment, Harry could have almost believed he saw Snape up at the staff table crying silently. Harry blinked, and the image was gone.

"Dumbledore's Army?" Dawlish laughed. "This is pitiful. Play time's over kids. Sit down before you get hurt."

Seamus called out loudly. "We got 'em in the box everyone, so aim low."

Dawlish looked at Seamus with genuine malice for a brief second before focusing on Harry. "I know you're behind this, kid. I saw you last year. I can't believe you want to start this.

Harry's jaw worked, and a flush built up in his cheeks. He truly didn't want to start a fight with a squad of Ministry Aurors, but he couldn't let anyone be locked in Azkaban without trial, even if he couldn't stand Snape personally. Besides, Dawlish was the one who wanted to Obliviate Mr. Granger, so Harry didn't have all that much empathy for the man. "Oh yeah," he said with false bravado. "Try me."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I assure you all, it is not too late to prevent this from spiraling out of control."

"That's true," Dawlish said quietly. Then he roared, "Stun them!"

The Auror's lashed out with tightly coordinated blasts of red light, focusing on the teacher's table. Two spells danced off an invisible wall in front of Professor McGonagall, but Vector and Flitwick collapsed. Hagrid took three stunners to the chest, but just roared something unintelligible and hurled red spell blasts back at the nearest Auror. At least a dozen Aurors took aim at the Headmaster, who looked quite busy holding them off.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables had them in a crossfire. Most of the student curses were mild ones, but a couple of Aurors were stuck ten or twelve times and fell twitching to the floor. Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Seamus hopped onto the table, the better to fire over the heads of their classmates on the other side.

Suddenly the Aurors dropped to the floor and turned their spells on the students! Harry found himself throwing down simple shield spells as fast as he could to protect his section of the room from a vicious volley of stunners. Two dozen students collapsed unconscious, slumped over tables and benches with their wands still clasped in outstretched hands. But here and there a pocket had held out, usually with some of the more skilled DA members shielding their mates from fire. Over the swarming throng, Harry caught sight of Crabbe and Goyle bouncing an Auror off a wall repeatedly with their fists.

Dawlish conjured an urn to hide behind, and saw the Potter boy holding off fire from seven of his men as his little friends slowly whittled the trapped Aurors down. Worst amongst them, Dawlish noted, was the thin bushy haired girl who seemed to be throwing a lot of effort into some fairly powerful spells. A couple of ugly blasting spells flew from her wand over his head, and Dawlish turned to see his Master of the Guard blown back to the ground, singed and smoking. He shook his head; this was getting out of hand. He had to stop this, and quickly.

With a quick slashing motion, Dawlish sketched an abbreviated arc in the air. Where his wand had passed, a thin trace of purple fire was etched in space. It leaped from him and whirled toward the girl who'd knocked his man out.

Harry saw the flame leap from Dawlish, saw the purple colour he'd seen in nightmares for months. "Hermione Leviosa," he shouted hoarsely. Hermione screamed as she shot into the air. The purple fire whistled below her, and splinted the bench she'd stood in front of. For a second, Harry could only see the burning half plate of bacon where Hermione had been sitting minutes earlier.

Hermione's suddenly exposed position must have been too easy a target, for at least four Aurors fired upon her as she hung helplessly midair. With his left hand, Harry shuttled her away toward Hagrid, who plucked her from the air deftly. Hagrid spun about, shielding her with his considerable bulk as three more stunners thudded into his wide back. He wavered, but didn't fall. Hermione fought free of his grip, now hurling curses from the far end of the room.

Harry didn't see her. He looked down at Dawlish, and absolute rage burnt in his eyes. Beside him, he head Ron screaming something both Latin and vulgate. Harry had no intention of being left out, and started throwing Incendio curses at the scrabbling Auror. To his right, Ron was blowing chunks of the floor mosaic up all around Dawlish as the older man moved to get out of the way.

"Supefy!" Dawlish yelled desperately, throwing Ron back against the table.

Harry stepped down off the table, onto the smoking bench Hermione had occupied, advancing on Dawlish as he kept up a steady stream of hexes. Dawlish kept throwing curses back at them, but Harry only had to counter them for a second before pressing his assault.

He was four paces from Dawlish, when the Auror looked up with panic in his eyes. "Avada Kedavra," Dawlish cried out desperately, pointing his wand at Harry.

Harry was so surprised, he didn't move. Just as the green light began to fill his vision, a heavy weight caught him in the back of the knees and drove him to the ground. The Killing Curse arced over his head, and sizzled impotently on the wooden beams supporting the roof.

The whole of the Great Hall fell silent. Aurors and Defense members who a second ago were locked in a close range battle stopped speaking, eyes locked on the wizards in the center of the floor. Harry pushed himself upright, and the wizard who'd collided with him sat up. Neville got to his feet first, and pulled Harry up with him.

"Mister Dawlish," Dubledore spoke coldly. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Dawlish scrambled to his feet. "That maniac was trying to kill me!"

Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height, and for a moment it seemed the air in the hall crackled with more than discharged spells. "I assure you Mister Dawlish, that if either Mister Potter or myself had actually wished you harm, you would not have survived so long."

Hermione stepped out from behind Dumbledore's cloak. Pale with anger, Hermione pointed her wand at Dawlish, calling out, "Expelliarmus!"

The Auror was pushed backwards by the angry force of the spell, his wand flung into her hand. Dawlish rubbed his sore hand and snarled at everyone surrounding him. "Oh, so you all think you can flout the law, then look shocked when the Aurors are authorized to use force against you?"

"That wasn't 'force'," Hermione cried, rushing over and reviving Ron. "That was an attempted murder, you miserable little toad!"

Ron groaned as he sat up from the wreckage of the Gryffindor table. "Who'd the toad try to murder?"

"Harry," Hermione muttered in an undertone to her boyfriend. "Avada Kedavra."

"What?" Ron stared at the Auror in shock.

"Rules of engagement," Dawlish said simply. "This is why I told your students to stay out of this. This thing here, this isn't a game. And if I have to burn my way through twenty of your students to get to a Death Eater, I will."

"And when you get there, how are the rest of us to tell you and your quarry apart?" Dubledore stepped in close to Dawlish staring deeply into his eyes. He advanced on him, walked right up to him, and calmly brushed past him as though the Auror had disappeared. "We have all permitted the madness of the Ministry for too long. Thank you all for your earnest desire to help, but we really cannot allow you to try to protect us all by destroying us. Please, go home, and try not to attack any more innocent people along the way."

Dumbledore made a shooing gesture to the Aurors, then turned away. Picking up the hem of his robes to avoid the crushed and burning debris on the floor, he made his way over to the staff table to help his fallen teachers.

Dawlish spun about, yelling for his men amidst the shattered hall. "Form up on me. We're still Aurors, and we've a job to do!"

"Yeah!" Ron shouted. He pushed himself all the way to his feet on anger alone. "What are you waiting for! Time to kill some schoolkids! Chop chop, get on with it! If you hurry, you might make it back to my prat brother Percy fast enough to get medals!"

At the back of the room, several Aurors quietly slipped out the doors.

"I know, maybe you don't know what to do!" Ron stormed over to Dawlish, and Harry was surprised to see Ron was actually tall enough to go nose to nose with the man. "See, when Death Eaters go 'round killing people, they usually play with them first. Why don't you start with that?"

Hermione fell in on herself in tears. Ron pointed at her. "Pardon her, she was just attacked by Death Eaters a few months ago. Give her a sec to get herself together, I'm sure she can tell you what you're doing wrong!"

Some more Aurors left quietly, and Dawlish rounded on them. "You men! You stay at your posts, or face charges of treason!"

"Then what?" Harry was pale and shaking, somewhere beyond furious. These people had tried to kill him, had tried to kill Hermione. "Are you going to try to kill them too? Or just throw them in Azkaban without any justice?"

Dawlish pushed Ron aside, and pointed a warning finger at the two teens. "I am justice!"

Snap! With a quick jerk, Hermione brought the Auror's wand down over her knee, shattering it. With her left hand she flung it at Dawlish's chest, and the pieces clattered to the floor at his feet. She was crying, and splotchy, and shaking with fear and anger. "I don't care about your precious justice! If I ever see you near my friends again..."

"You'll what?" Dawlish laughed. "You won't do anything."

Harry caught up to her as she had the tip of her wand tight against Dawlish's throat. "Please," she whispered. "Please try something."

"Hermione," Ron called out softly. "He's pond slime, he's not worth it."

Harry reached out for her wand, but she jerked her wrist away from him.

Dawlish yelled out, clearly speaking to the men behind him. "When she drops me, burn every single witch and wizard still standing to the ground!"

A score of students sat down. Two score remained standing, bristling and shifting from foot to foot. A handful of Aurors slipped away.

A cold, arrogant voice slid from behind the staff table down to the tableau in the middle of the floor. "Oh for the love of Merlin! I had forgotten the current crop of idiot students is no worse than the prior crops of idiot students." Snape shook Lupin off and stepped out from around the overturned table.

"Unless you all savor the mindless noise and brightly coloured lights that attend your destruction of this castle," Snape said, "lower your wands. All of you. I will go with the Aurors."

"You what?" Dawlish blinked.

Dumbledore turned from where he was steadying Professor Flitwick. "You'll what?"

Snape ignored the Aurors, but turned to sketch a bow toward the Headmaster. "With your permission, of course, I shall go with these... officers of the peace." The last was delivered with a healthy dose of sarcasm. Even Hermione lowered her wand from Dawlish's throat at this.

He continued. "I see that our 'guests' are too astonishingly dense to realize that although the Ministry pays their salaries, thy are doing the Dark Lord's work here. They seem to have forgotten their pledges to do no harm. As for our students... I have know idea what on earth they have forgotten, but clearly they will end up missing classes if they get themselves injured foolishly. I cannot abide the excuses I should otherwise be forced to endure if I were to remain. Ergo, I should go, Headmaster."

Dumbledore's whole beard twitched. "I'm sorry to impose on you, Severus, but I'm afraid that this is out of the question. You'll just have to handle any... malingering... on your own."

"Listen to Snape," Dawlish barked. "Dumbledore, this can't end well!"

"These things never do," Dumbledore sighed. He looked pointedly at Harry for the barest moment before continuing. "But I am quite certain that my Professor must remain at the castle, and so he shall."

"Fine." Dawlish pushed his robe aside, and drew a spare wand from behind his back. He advanced quickly on Dumbledore, looking grim.

Harry jumped in front of his Headmaster unthinkingly. "If you want him, you'll have to go through me."

Dawlish ground his teeth together, and looked quite willing to take Harry up on his offer. But one of his officers dropped a gauntleted hand on Dawlish's shoulder, and slowly tugged him back from the confrontation. "Auror Dawlish," the officer said sadly. "It's over. Come away."

Dawlish jerked away from his man. "No, it's not!"

"You destroyed a school, and I helped you do it." The Auror sounded tired, flat. Very quietly, he raised his wand until he had it pointing between Dawlish's shoulder blades. "It's over. One way or another."

Dawlish stiffened, then turned to glare at his subordinate. He looked down at the wand trained on him, then up at the other Auror. "You'll be sorry you did this."

"I'm only sorry I didn't do it soon enough." The Auror yelled over his shoulder. "Men, we're leaving. Anyone have a problem with that?"

No one answered.

Without a word, Dawish pushed past his subordinate, through his men, and left. The Auror at the forefront stomped a boot on the flagstones, and his men staggered into a rough formation. He turned to Dumbledore. "I don't know how long 'til we get sent back here."

"Every problem in its time," Dumbledore responded cryptically, before turning back to his Professors.

The Aurors marched out of the Great Hall, and several of the older Gryffindors trailed them out warily. Confident his staff was unharmed, Dumbledore straightened up slowly, and projected his voice across the Hall. "Those students who need her assistance, please go to Madam Pomfrey now. If you are not in need of the hospital wing, kindly return to your house common rooms at once. Classes will resume promptly tomorrow, so I trust you all to be prepared with your assignments."

There was a general murmur throughout the scarred and ruined hall. Students looked at one another for confirmation of what they'd heard, or whispered to each other behind their hands. Harry flushed when he realized that the whole of Gryffindor was looking at him, not the headmaster. However, not one student in the hall made as if to move. Dumbledore looked around at the faces of his students, and clapped sharply twice. "Come, come. The hall must be cleared if it is to be repaired in time for lunch, and I understand we have an excellent turkey brioche today. Now, go on!"

At this the confused students began their docile exodus from the Great Hall, headed off toward their respective dormitories. The Gryffindors didn't move however. Gritting his teeth, Harry reluctantly nodded in the direction of the doors. His house mates rose, patted him or their Prefects on the shoulder, and headed for the door. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were amongst the last of the students to leave, and they looked around the scene of destruction in the Hall. Some few of the house pennants were burning merrily in the rafters, and parts of the tables and benches were still smoldering.

Ron blinked and looked at the other two. "And we're to have classes tomorrow?"

Hermione wiped at her still streaming eyes, looking desperately embarrassed. "Of course Ron. Can't be deterred by the little things."

Ron laughed hysterically, and Harry bent over with his hands on his knees to keep the sudden jolt of vertigo from overwhelming him. Hermione sagged against a burnt table edge. Neville, Ginny, and Luna approached them nervously, tentatively. Ginny ran a hand along Harry's back. "Common room?"

"Sure," answered Harry as he straightened up and took deep breaths. "Dumbledore said to go to the common room, and I always listen to authority figures."

Hermione joined Ron and Harry in nervous, high laughter at this. Neville and Luna looked at the trio worriedly. Harry looked over at the last students filing out, and was relieved to see that they looked just as wobbly and shaken as he felt.

Luna sighed, and said, "I've got you Ronald. Just this once, I think your portrait should let me in." With that, she slipped an arm under Ron's and the other over Hermione's shoulders, and steered them off towards the staircase.

Neville moved to help Harry away, but was waved off. Instead Harry fell into step beside the awkward boy, his off hand unwillingly entwined with Ginny. "Thanks for... you know, knocking me down."

"What are friends for?" Neville shrugged, then brightened momentarily. "Hey Harry, I think your classes this year were a good choice."

"Why?" Harry shook his head, trying to pay attention to his roommate while following Luna, Ron, and Hermione's progress up the stairs ahead of them. "I didn't use anything I learned in my classes just now."

Neville looked over at him. "No, I was just thinking it was good you weren't taking a lot of classes to prepare for Auror training."

Harry blinked, suddenly realizing just exactly who his defense association had rained curses upon. Even if he hadn't already decided not to become an Auror, he couldn't imagine they'd want him now. Then he remembered Dawlish lashing out at Hermione with that purple fire, and some measure of his unease was dispelled. "I guess you're right, Neville. Thanks."

Harry and Neville laughed a little, though Ginny looked over at the two of them with worry in her eyes.

Harry looked at him sideways. "You're taking this awfully well."

"Don't worry," Neville laughed nervously. "I'm sure I'll throw up later."

Harry nodded. "Oh, good. I thought it was just me."

"Not really."

The Gryffindors stopped at the staircase landing that housed the Fat Lady's portrait and the concealed entrance to their common room. The Fat Lady and the portrait of her friend Violet were seated, sipping hot cocoa and looking worried. "There you lot are!" The Fat Lady pressed a bejeweled hand to her ample bosom and exhaled deeply. "We were worried where you'd gotten up to. All the others are in already, and Violet was about to go looking for you."

Ron sighed. "Azhi Dahaka," he said simply, giving her the new password.

The Fat Lady looked offended. "Well, you're welcome! Of course we we worried, thank you for asking Now isn't someone going to tell us what happened.?"

"No," Ron answered mulishly. "Azhi Dahaka!"

"All right, all right!" The portrait swung inwards. "No need to be testy!"

Luna helped Ron and Hermione into the Gryffindor common room, and Harry, Neville, and Ginny followed along behind them. The six students pulled up short as they ran headlong into the commotion of a packed common room. It seemed, quite correctly, that a quarter of the castle was stuffed into this one room, arguing and crying, gossiping and comforting.

Seamus turned from his boisterous conversation with Lavender and Dean when the portrait hole opened. He turned his back on Harry's little group long enough to wave his hands for attention. "Quiet all o' you!"

As the roar subsided, Seamus spun back around. "Harry! What's going on?"

For his part, Harry could only rock back on his heels. "I don't know anything more than you do."

"Right!" Seamus laughed, and behind him Lavender and Parvati nodded. "You three are involved in everything around here. So, is Snape a Death Eater, or was it those Aurors?"

Hermione stepped in at this point. "Death Eaters? Don't you realize you're accepting the Ministry's flawed hypothesis without question?"

Seamus' open face wrinkled up in a frown, and he leaned sideways to shrug at Harry over Hermione's shoulder. Clearly, he didn't get what she was driving at. Harry did, and he decided to find a seat against he wall while she got good and wound up.

Hermione looked around the common room, and up at the students packing the staircases. "The Ministry is acting like the whole of Britain is neatly segregated into two groups; Death Eaters and law abiding citizens. They're acting like they're entitled to do whatever they please as long as they stop the Death Eaters. They're acting as if the merest shred of dissent makes you a Death Eater, and that their assumption of guilt is as good as rule of law and trial by Wizengamot! That horrible cow from last year, Umbridge, and now Dawlish! Look at them! They're vile, foul, loathsome little people, and the Ministry acts like they're proper wizards just because they're not in Voldemort's pocket! You wanted to know if the Aurors were Death Eaters? I assure you, they are absolutely not.

"That does not excuse the fact that they behaved like common criminals. They were here to wrongfully imprison a man without benefit of trial, because they think that if you are not a nice, quiet, law abiding citizen you must be a Death Eater. They were willing to assault and even kill innocent people, because that is infinitely easier than adhering to the laws and doing the right thing. I can assure you all, their actions were very much the same as the Death Eaters they want to stop. They demanded what they wanted be given to them under threat of force, and they were willing to hurt and kill when thwarted.

"Dumbledore stood up to them because, and honestly I hope that anyone who stood up to them agrees... Dumbledore stood up to them because they were wrong. Not evil, not Dark. Just... terribly wrong!"

Seamus looked stunned. "You mean, you don't think they were Death Eaters?"

"It doesn't matter!" Harry nearly yelled, then thudded his head against the wall of the common room and rubbed his eyes. "You all know Snape's an arse, right? You've seen how he treats Neville?"

Neville flushed at this, but it was Lavender who spoke up. "He did the same to you, Harry."

Harry ignored this and continued. "If I told you right now that he was a Death Eater, would that explain why he's an arse? If I told you he was one of the good guys, would that excuse him being one? No and no. Seamus, right is right and wrong is wrong. It doesn't matter what colour cloak you wear. It just doesn't matter."

"Damn." Seamus rubbed his face. "This is naused right up, man!"

Seamus stalked away, returning to talk to the other Gryffindor sixth years.

Hermione slid down the wall at Harry's side, and Ron dropped down next to her. She looked over at Harry, eyes red. She didn't say anything. Harry nearly laughed, knowing what she was thinking. "I know. You give a beautiful, passionate speech, no one gets it. I babble, and Seamus hits his head and goes 'oh!'"

Hermione nodded. Harry patted her leg. "If you'd said all that to the Wizengamot, they'd've applauded you. Around here, I'm just stupid enough to talk to sixteen year old boys."

Hermione pressed her head into the wall. "That doesn't inspire confidence in my abilities to talk to sixteen year old boys."

As Luna settled in next to Ron, the red head gestured at the room in front of them. "How long 'til they stop trying to figure out how this is the fault of Death Eaters?"

Luna leaned up against him. "Days, most likely. Perhaps weeks."

Harry put his head back, and listened to his friends and dorm mates argue and speculate. He just didn't have the energy to fight, or even really listen. Pretty soon, the other Gryffindors had stopped talking, and started buzzing. They hummed and droned, and the cold castle grew warmed and darker...

Harry opened his eyes and stood up, feeling as if he was stuck in molasses. He found himself in a darkened Gryffindor common room, empty and quiet. Without meaning to, Harry found himself whirling, floating out the portrait hole. His feet not touching the slate and limestone beneath him, Harry was pulled down the staircase, and along the first floor corridor. He hurled along faster now, arrowing down corridors and whipping though turns, drawn inexorably toward the dungeons. It occurred to Harry he was dreaming, and dreaming about returning to the Slytherin common room.

He was right. The guttering torches of the lower levels flew past, leaving jagged trails upon Harry's retinas. He flew down a corridor, then another, then a short flight of steps until he halted before a blank stone wall. He paused there for a moment, wondering what would happen next. Without warning, he careened into the wall. Harry barely had time to draw a breath before he found himself in the Slytherin common room. Apparently, he had flown straight through the wall.

Harry found himself sliding toward one of the doors off to the far right, past the black leather sofas and oddly large ottomans . He slipped past several snake statues, and a huge tapestry, and then through the heavy door before him.

Draco Malfoy stood facing away from Harry, showing no sign he's noticed his arch-rival walk through a door. Draco's robe was thrown over his desk chair, and Harry noticed he had a letter stuck haphazardly in his back pocket. The writing was in a brilliant green ink, but what caught his attention was the device pressed into the sealing wax on the envelope. It was a small, pewter cast of a skull with a snake uncoiling from its mouth. It was the Dark Mark.

Harry leaned closer to see what the writing on the envelope said. That was when he felt it. A sharp tug at his flesh, and he was hurtling backward out of Draco's room, out of the Slytherin common room, out of the dungeons. Harry just about snarled with the frustration of being unable to see that damned letter.

"Harry!"

He jerked upright, momentarily blinded by the bright light pouring through the Gryffindor tower windows. Harry pushed himself upright, from where he'd been sleeping up against Hermione's shoulder. The look of worry in her dark eyes suggested it was she who'd woken him.

She frowned worriedly. "You were having a dream."

Harry rubbed at his mouth, which tasted like his shoe. "That happens when I fall asleep. Sorry for leaning on you."

"It wasn't one of, well, those dreams was it?"

"No," he lied. "No Voldemort."

The worry eased a bit. "I'm glad to hear that. You were looking... it looked like it was a nightmare, really."

"I'm fine, really." Harry smiled. He felt absolutely horribly lying to Hermione of all people. Harry was absolutely certain that the dream had come from Voldemort. He simply couldn't tell her about it. Harry was sure she'd lost too much, been pushed too hard, for him to drop yet another weight upon her slim shoulders. No, he decided, he would have to figure out what this dream meant on his own.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Harry," she said, a note of danger in her voice. "You aren't just lying to me, to keep me from worrying, are you?"

"No." Harry kept his eyes wide and locked on hers. Blast, he thought. How does she do that!

The portrait hole swung open, and Professor McGonagall stepped primly through. She hardly needed to clear her throat to get the attention of her students; the sight of the first teacher since morning brought all eyes to her. "I'm sure you'll all be happy to know, the mess from this morning has been cleared away, and the Great Hall is available for lunch."

Professor McGonagall nodded at her students, and began to step out through it. Neville interrupted her with a halting, "M-Ma'am?"

McGonagall turned back, the high peak on her tartan hat wavering slightly as she did so. "Yes, Mister Longbottom?"

"That's it?" Neville squeaked. "No news, just 'sorry about the war zone, here's your pudding?'"

The Head of their House pursed her lips. "Turkey brioche, Mister Longbottom. And no, no news."

With that, Neville sagged ever so slightly and Professor McGonagall swept from the room.

Parvati sat down on the edge of a divan, looking around. "After this morning... they really aren't going to keep us in the dark, are they? What are we going to do?"

Ron stood up, stretching. "Go get us some turkey before the Hufflepuffs hog it all."

Parvati frowned at him. "How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?"

"First order of business," Ron said with a grin. "Survival."

He turned around, and pulled Luna and Hermione to their feet at the same time. Hermione dusted herself off, leaving Ron to catch the Ravenclaw when she tripped standing up. Ron looked around the room. "I'm serious. We either start cannibalizing the Firsties like a pack of Mai Mai's, or we go get lunch. Standing here yapping at each other won't change much."

Ron would have been the first one out the door, but he held the portrait open for Hermione and Luna. Seamus and Dean stared after him.

"I can' tell if he thinks with his stomach," Seamus grumbled, "or if he's just got used to all the commotion."

"Both," Parvati opined. With that, Gryffindor tower slowly emptied itself onto the stairs.

Harry moved to stand, but an unseen weight settled itself on his shoulder. He reached for his wand, but a voice whispering in his ear stopped him. "Harry! It's me, Ginny."

Harry looked around, but didn't see anyone. "Ginny?"

"I borrowed your cloak." She giggled from somewhere to his left. "Do you like the way I look in it?"

Harry wasn't sure what was more irksome; that she had taken his father's cloak out of his dormitory without asking, or that apparently girls could enter the boys' dorm rooms freely, but not vice versa. Damned sexist, thought the part of Harry's brain that spoke in Hermione's voice. He shook his head. "What are you doing?"

"Rescheduling our date a little." Her voice seemed to be moving away from him, and Harry stood up to follow her. Ginny sounded like she was smiling as she continued. "I needed to be a little invisible for some of the preparations. Now, wait here for fifteen minutes, then meet me in the Room of Requirements."

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