Harry Potter and the Year of Discord by Piccolo999

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 15/11/2006
Last Updated: 10/02/2010
Status: Completed

Sequel to Harry Potter and the Alternate Universe: Year Six. This is my Slytherin Harry's
seventh year at Hogwarts. Now that Voldemort is out in the open, the wizarding world is in for one
chaotic year of distrust, sneak attacks, and death. Pairings: HP/HG, DM/GW/NL, RW/LL.




1. Chapter One
--------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** First chapter of the sequel - Yay! Thanks for the support on my last story
and all your awesome reviews. I hope you enjoy this one as well. In case any of you didn’t figure
it out by now, this is the sequel to my story Harry Potter and the Alternate Universe: Year Six. So
make sure you’ve read that one before you read this.

Also, I want to make it perfectly clear that while this is a Harry/Hermione fic, the other
characters will not be ignored. Meaning, they will have just as much paper time devoted to them. So
if you only want to read Harry/Hermione, this fic is probably not for you.

Another warning, this fic will have lots of death. Probably not main characters, but people will
die. At the moment, the current plan is for two main characters to die. One for sure, but the other
is on the table at the moment. Meaning, I haven’t decided yet. It could be either of two
characters. Maybe I’ll decide not to kill either of them, I don’t know yet, but I’m just warning
you that if you don’t like major character deaths, you might not want to read this.

Hopefully I didn’t put any of you off, I certainly don’t want that. Anyway, now that that’s
done, enjoy!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter One
When one looked at the world, it was almost impossible to imagine that hidden from today’s
society was a completely different world, one full of magic and wonder. A world where wizards lived
and died, loved and lost, and learnt and forgot. A magical world one would normally find in a
children’s fairy tale book. However, such a world did exist, and its existence was becoming more
and more evident to those who lived in the other world, the ones referred to as Muggles.

Why was this world that managed to remain hidden for so long finally being noticed? The answer
was simple. It could be found almost everywhere you looked, the balance that kept the world from
tipping and falling apart. Put simply, it was good and evil. As with everything good, it was no use
without the evil to justify it. Good could not be good without evil, and evil could not be evil
without good. Without the other, they would just be.

In other words, for everything magical, there was something terrible in this other world, the
hidden world. Trolls, capable of causing mass amounts of destruction with a single swing of their
club. Even more terrifying, Giants capable of causing avalanches with a single step. Cloaked beings
known as Dementors, with the horrifying ability to drain the happiness from the world, and even to
suck a person soul from his body with a solitary kiss.

It was this evil that was causing the concealed world of wizards and witches to become more and
more visible to their Muggle neighbours. Specifically, it was one source of evil, a wizard so
seeped in malevolence that his visage was that of a human and snake hybrid – a man so hungry for
power and immortality that he had torn his own soul into seven pieces. The world of magic and
wonder was being overrun with evil, tipping the balance in favour of darkness.

It was that world that Harry Potter lived in, the one wizard capable of righting that balance,
by decree of a prophecy created before he was even born. His entire life had been shaped by a few
words, heard out of context. Nevertheless, it was the world he lived in, and the life he lived, and
he loved it, despite its downsides.

But for now, Harry was stuck in the world he had grown up in, the world he hated. It was not the
Muggle world in general that he disliked, but the family that had raised him, the prison he was
forced to return to every summer by order of his mentor and Headmaster.

The Dursleys had never troubled to hide their loathing of him and everything he stood for from
him. They had tried to beat the magic out of him when he was younger and had neglected him for the
most part of his young life. It was only when he learnt who he really was and returned to their
household after his first year at Hogwarts – the best wizarding school in the world, as far as he
was concerned – that he had taken charge of things. He refused to let the Dursleys bully him and
had done everything in his power to make sure they couldn’t harm him anymore. He wasn’t a member of
Slytherin house for nothing, you know.

Even though the Dursleys no longer troubled him, he still hated returning to their care, even
for the short amount of time that was required. They might not lock him in a closet and throw
insults at him anymore, but they never stopped sneering at him. It was pretty annoying.

So Harry spent most of his time locked up in his room, ticking away the days until he could
leave and never return. After all, this was the last time he would have to spend a summer here.
After he turned seventeen, he would be gone, and gone forever.

The days passed slowly for Harry, but finally the day arrived. He was awake as the twelfth hour
came and then passed. He smiled to himself, looking out the window of Privet Drive and staring at
the star speckled night sky. He was officially no longer a minor in the wizarding society. He was
of age. An adult. In other words, he could use magic whenever he wanted now.

He held his wand aloft, staring at it in the darkness; it’s smooth surface shinning from the
small amount of light flittering in through the window. He twirled it around once, before pointing
it at his bed. Immediately, the bed grew in size, the sheets became tidier and cleaner, turning a
dark green colour. He smirked at his handy work, just enjoying the freedom of being able to do
magic whenever he wanted.

“What do you think Hedwig?” Harry asked, looking over at his snowy owl. “Good?”

Hedwig hooted an affirmative, hopping on her perch, restless.

“You want to go out girl?” Harry asked, and got another affirmative. “Okay, give me a second
then. I’ve got a job for you anyway.”

Harry crossed the room and pulled out his chair with a hooked foot, before sitting down and
grabbing a piece of parchment. He inked up his quill and then started writing:

*Dear Hermione,*

*How are things going for you? I know I said I’d write more, but the more I write to you, the
more I miss you and wizard world. But, on the bright side, this is the last time I have to be here.
Anyway, I’ll get to the point. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay out in the open like
you are. I’m sure you know what I mean. I can’t say much, in case this owl is intercepted, but I’m
going to try and sort it out, okay? So don’t be surprised if I show up out of the blue or
something. In the meantime, keep an eye out and be careful. I really miss you and can’t wait to see
you again.*

*Lots of love, Harry.*

Finishing up, Harry folded up the parchment and sealed it in an envelope, before handing it to
Hedwig and opening the window. He gave his owl a few gentle strokes on the head.

“I’m going to be at Grimmauld Place from tomorrow onwards, so don’t forget, okay girl?”

Hedwig softly and flew out of the window, her version of a friendly goodbye.

Finally, Harry climbed into his immaculate and very comfy bed, intent on getting a good night
sleep for the last time under the roof of the Dursleys. He snuggled into his blankets and let out a
soft sigh, before closing his eyes and rolling over. It normally took him a long time to fall
asleep while staying with the Dursleys, some part of his mind not trusting them to fully relax, but
this time, he was sleep before his head hit the pillow, figuratively speaking.

(----)

The next day dawned early for Harry and he found himself creeping down the stairs (which was
basically walking normally for him – why do you think he was so good at not making a sound?) of the
Dursley household and into their kitchen. He quickly made himself breakfast, only realising half
way through that it would be a whole lot easier to use magic. After that, he was done in seconds.
Being of age really was great, Harry decided.

Sitting at the dinning table, he enjoyed a nice quiet traditional English breakfast of bacon and
eggs (his eggs well done, just the way he liked them) with a side order of toast and a glass of
orange juice. He was halfway through his breakfast when his aunt Petunia arrived, clad in a highly
offensive (at least to Harry) pink robe, tied at the waist.

“Oh,” she said, surprised, “you’re up.”

“How observant of you,” Harry returned.

His aunt frowned at him, but didn’t make any comeback at his sarcasm, just going about her
business. His uncle arrived next, also glad in a horrible bathrobe, but his was a dark blue colour.
Vernon glared at him on sight, taking a seat across the table and unfurling a newspaper he must
have picked up at the door.

“I’m leaving today,” Harry said, just in case they had forgot. He didn’t think they would
have.

“Good riddance,” his uncle grunted from behind the paper.

“You really should be nice to me you know,” Harry said, bringing his wand out and twirling it
around his fingers.

“And why - ” Vernon stopped when he spotted the wand in Harry’s hand, his bulging eyes turning
to glare once again at Harry. “Put that away! I’m not stupid, I know you can’t use…it…outside of
that freak school of yours.”

“What?” Harry said, leaning forward with a smirk. “Magic?”

“I told you not to say that word!” Vernon raged, going purple in the face.

“You know what Vernon,” Harry said, “I really don’t think I care what you say anymore. I’m
leaving this place for good and I’m never coming back. But just so you know, today’s my birthday,
and I’m officially allowed to use magic. So I’d be nice to me, or something…bad…might happen,
understand?”

Vernon’s eyes looked like they were about to burst, a vein bulging out of his neck and his face
so purple Harry was sure it would light the room even in the darkest of places. His aunt Petunia
had stopped whatever she was doing and was staring at him.

“My godfather will be here soon,” Harry said, standing up, “so I’m going to go pack. Petunia, be
a dear and clean up my mess will you. I could use magic, but I’m just so tired.” Harry mocked
yawned, grinned at them, and then left the room. He could practically hear the vein on Vernon neck
pulsing.

Harry took his time packing, just letting the moment wash over him. He was finally free of the
Dursleys. He was certainly going to enjoy the moment. He finished of by shrinking his trunk,
Hedwig’s cage, and his Firebolt, stuffing them all into his pockets. He’d already transfigured the
bed back into it’s original musty, worn down state. He wasn’t going to leave them with an expensive
bed, after all. Actually, the only thing he would leave the Dursleys was something he was sure they
wouldn’t appreciate.

Harry left the room behind and was about to go downstairs when an idea hit him, and he turned to
face the door leading to Dudley’s bedroom. He figured Sirius must have been rubbing off on him,
because he’d never been much of a prankster before. He was way too serious for that. However, today
seemed to be his day.

Grinning, he entered the boy’s room. Dudley was still asleep, snoring like a bulldozer, nestled
in his blankets like an over grown whale. Harry took a look around at all of the junk that filled
the bully’s room. It was over flowing with video games, dirty clothes and empty take out boxes. On
top of that, it smelt worse than a garbage can, a mixture of half eaten food and sweaty
testosterone.

Wrinkling his nose at the smell, Harry raised his wand and gave it a wave, tracing a green arc
in the air. Smirking, he left the room. Harry only wishing he could be here when Dudley finally
woke up, only to find all his underwear had somehow gone through a miraculous transformation during
the night, turning into pink frilly knickers, and that all of his clothes had decided to join in
and turn themselves into equally pink, frilly dresses.

He descended the stairs and found his aunt and uncle sitting at the dinning room table, drinking
coffee and sitting upright in their seats, almost as if afraid to move and offend him somehow. He
chuckled, which earned him a momentary glare from Vernon, who quickly turned back to staring into
his coffee cup when he noticed Harry’s wand poking out of his pocket.

“Well,” Harry said, looking around the room for the last time, “my Godfather will be here any
minute now. I just have to say, it was a real pleasure staying here and being a pain in your
gigantic ass uncle Vernon. And I can’t forget my mother’s jealous sister can I? Aunt Petunia, I can
honestly say you are the stupidest, most petty person I have ever met, and boy have I met some
stupid ones.”

Vernon looked like he had finally taken enough, and was about to go into a rage, when the
doorbell rang and Sirius’s jovial tone echoed throughout the house:

“Honey, I’m home!”

“In here Sirius,” Harry shouted back, and was joined a moment later by his handsome
godfather.

“You ready Harry?” Sirius asked, looking at Vernon and Petunia with obvious distaste.

This just served to confuse his aunt and uncle, as they were under the impression they should be
the ones disgusted. Harry gave them one last smirk and nodded.

“Sure am,” he said.

“Everything packet?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I got everything in my pocket. It’s really great being of age, isn’t
it?”

Sirius grinned. “It sure is,” he said, “I remember the first thing I did when I became of age.
But I’d best not tell it in front of the little muggles, it might frighten them.” Sirius grinned at
them, enjoying Vernon’s purple face.

“Come on Sirius,” Harry said, “it really stinks in this house.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, turning and walking out of the room, following Harry. “It really
does.”

Leaving a stupefied Vernon and Petunia Dursley behind, they left the house and started down the
lawn. Harry stopped Sirius half way, turning to look back at the house.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

“I feel like I’ve got some unfinished business…” Harry said, pausing for effect at the end. “Oh
yeah, that’s it.”

He pulled out his wand and waved it at the house, before pocketing it. Sirius laughed out loud,
looking at the Dursley household through barely contained tears of mirth.

“Harry,” Sirius wheezed, finally getting control of himself. “You really are your fathers
son.”

“Glad to hear,” Harry said. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

Still chuckling, Sirius grabbed Harry’s arm and Apparated away, leaving Privet Drive behind.
When Vernon Dursley left for work, he almost had a heart attack at what was written all over his
house in gigantic sparkling green paint:

*“Vernon Dursley for Minister for Magic!”*

*“We love magic!”*

*“Petunia Dursley wants to be a witch!”*

And Harry’s favourite:

*“Dudley Dursley wears girls underwear!”*

(----)

**Piccolo999**



2. Chapter Two
--------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Sorry for the long wait! This chapter was going to be longer, but I felt
I’d kept you guys waiting enough. That being said, it’s not a long chapter, sorry for those of you
who like them. Anyway, hope you like this tiny chapter. Should have another up tomorrow if
something doesn’t sidetrack me. Enjoy and thanks for the reviews!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Two
Harry and Sirius popped back into existence outside of number twelve Grimmauld Place, the
Headquarters for the anti-Voldemort resistance known as the Order of the Phoenix. It was also the
home of the Black Family, or at least it was. The only remaining true member of that family was
Sirius Black, the son the family had seen as a disgrace. In reality, that actually made him a
pretty decent person, seeing as the Black family was almost as dark as you could get in the
wizarding world.

Harry and Sirius took in the dark old house in front of them for a moment before walking up the
lawn and knocking on the door. It opened an instant later, letting out only a small amount of
light. Harry and Sirius stepped in and the door closed behind them.

“Harry,” said a voice Harry recognised as that of his former Defence Against the Dark Arts
teacher, Professor Remus Lupin. Harry couldn’t see his face in the near darkness of the hallway,
but he just knew Remus was smiling at him.

“Hey Remus,” Harry returned.

“It’s good to see you,” Remus said. “Well, hear you, I guess I should say.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, “let’s get into some light.”

“Right,” Remus said, leading Harry down the hallway with a hand on his shoulder. Harry would
have normally minded being treated like a child, but for now, he could let it slide. He was just
happy to see his old Professor again.

“Why’s it so dark?” Harry asked.

“We’ve had a lot of suspicious people lurking about,” Remus said. “We don’t want to give it away
that we’re staying here, so we’re keeping the place as quiet as we can.”

“Death Eaters?” Harry enquired.

“Of course,” Sirius said.

“Now that Snape has revealed his true allegiance,” Remus began, “it’s pretty obvious he told
Voldemort were we’ve been hiding out. Of course, Voldemort can’t harm us here, as long as we stay
inside, but we want to at least make it look like we know he’s figured us out and that we’ve moved
to a new location.”

“I see,” Harry said.

“The problem is,” Remus went on, “we can’t move to a new location. One just doesn’t exist.”

“So we have no choice but to stay here,” Sirius finished.

“And what about Voldemort?” Harry asked, stepping into the kitchen when Remus held the door open
for him. It was a little lighter, but not by much. It gave the house a rather creepy feeling.

“What about him?” Remus asked.

“What’s he been doing?” Harry elaborated, sitting down at the dinning table. “I’ve been getting
the daily prophet, but it hasn’t had anything interesting in it. Only that Fudge has stepped down
as Minister and Rufus Scrimgeour has taken over, but that’s not really a surprise, is it?”

“Well,” Sirius said, taking a seat and propping his feet on the table. “We dealt Voldemort a big
blow when he attacked Hogwarts. He wasn’t expecting us to find out so quickly and he certainly
wasn’t expecting Dumbledore to be active. Thank god for Horace Slughorn…” Sirius paused, shaking
his head slightly. “I can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, its true, the old guy came through
for us.”

“What Sirius is trying to say is that Voldemort lost a lot of his supporters in that attack,”
Remus expanded, before listing them on his fingers, “Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Snape and even that kid
in your year Zabini.”

“And that’s the short list,” Sirius said. “There was a lot more.”

“Still,” Harry said, “I was expecting some sort of attack or something by now. It was over a
month ago.”

“I think he’s biding his time,” Remus said, “but for what, I have no idea.”

“I’m sure it’ll be big,” Sirius said, “after all, he really made a fool of himself. Or we made a
fool of him, and that’s not something he’ll take lightly. He was expecting to come out of hiding
with a bang, by killing Albus and taking Hogwarts as his headquarters. Instead, we forced him back
and dealt a big blow.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I suppose.”

“So how was your summer?” Remus asked. “Have fun with the Dursleys?”

“Ha!” Harry said, grinning. “Actually, it was pretty fun. Not having to stay there, but I
definitely left with a feeling of…satisfaction.”

Sirius laughed. “He sure did.”

“What did you do?” Remus asked, taking on a stern tone, but he was grinning all the same.

“I’ll let Sirius explain it to you,” Harry said, standing up from his own seat. “I’m going to
see how Draco is.”

“Okay,” Remus said.

“How’s he been?” Harry asked.

“Pretty quiet,” Remus said, “but that’s to be expected I guess, given his situation.”

“Okay,” Harry said, opening the door and looking back. “It was great to see you again
Remus.”

“You too Harry,” Remus returned.

Harry nodded and left, making his way quietly down the dark corridor and finding the stairs
leading up to the upper levels of the ancient house. He could feel the dust that had clung to the
railing under his fingers, a testament to how on edge everyone must be if Molly Weasley didn’t have
enough time to clean up.

Speaking of the elder Weasley, when Harry reached the second floor he heard a door to his left
open and a slither of light appeared, before being blocked by the silhouette of a women.

“Who is it?” The silhouette of Mrs. Weasley asked.

“It’s Harry,” he said, taking the last step and standing by the railing. “I just got here.”

“Oh,” Molly said, “it’s nice to see you Harry. Having a nice summer so far?”

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “I was just on my way to see Draco.”

“I see,” Molly replied. “He’s in the second room on the right.”

“Thanks Mrs. Weasley,” Harry replied, continuing on down the corridor, finding the second door
on the right and knocking lightly before entering.

Draco’s room was lighter than the corridor, lit by a series of low flames along the wall. Draco
was lying on his bed and he didn’t even stir when Harry stepped into the room.

Harry looked around, taking in the sparsely furnished room. It was to be expected, given that it
was a guest room, but Harry wasn’t surprised to find that Draco hadn’t even attempted to modify it
to his needs. Draco’s trunk was perched oddly by the door, flung open. That and the carelessly
flung cast off garments were the only sign that this was anybodies room.

“Hey Draco,” Harry finally said, done perusing the room. “Nice room.”

“Hey,” Draco muttered.

“How’s things?” Harry asked.

“Fine,” Draco returned, his voice lacking its usual drawl.

“Oh come on,” Harry said, taking a seat on a hard backed chair set by the room’s only desk.
“Anybody can see you’re not fine. Still moping around?”

“It’s none of your business,” Draco said blandly, for once not being quick to anger.

“See,” Harry said. “The Draco I know would have snapped at me for that. This lame excuse for a
Draco Malfoy can’t even muster the spirit to do that. What’s wrong with you?”

“I just don’t feel like it, okay?”

“Why?” Harry asked, pushing. “Because your fathers an asshole who watched you get tortured by
Voldemort and did nothing to stop it? Hell, he even condoned it. Is that why? Or is it because
Ginny won’t even look at you, let alone to talk to you? Or maybe it’s because your friend Blaise
turned out to be a psychotic jackass?”

“Pick one,” Draco mumbled.

“I thought you were a Slytherin Draco,” Harry said. “What’s with this Hufflepuff attitude? So
your father thinks you’re a disgrace to the Malfoy name? Screw him! He’s the disgrace, not you. Why
should you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t,” Draco said.

“Well it sure as hell isn’t Blaise,” Harry said. “It can’t be something that stupid. Zabini was
never your friend Draco. Did it really shock you that he turned out to be a psycho? I suppose I
didn’t see it coming either, but I certainly didn’t think he was the sanest guy in the school.”

“You know it’s not him,” Draco said, “so why don’t you just get to the point.”

“So you’re just going to mope around because some girl won’t look at you,” Harry said. “That’s
just lame Draco. If you want my opinion, Ginny is as confused as you are. She thought you were a
jackass, and I can’t really blame her, so don’t be surprised if she doesn’t exactly know how to act
around you now that you turned around and saved her life like that.”

“So what?” Draco asked, finally turning to face Harry. “I just go about my business like nothing
is wrong? In case you didn’t notice, I’m not really good with my feelings.”

“Join the club,” Harry said, smirking slightly.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

“Well,” Harry said, “believe it or not I couldn’t actually tell Hermione I loved her for a very
long time, even though I knew I did.”

“Really?” Draco said. “I mean - you love her?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I do. And I told her so, eventually. One of the reasons we get along so
well is because we’re a lot alike, Draco. I know you don’t like talking about it, but let’s face
it; you grew up with an abusive father. And the Dursleys weren’t exactly a picnic either. We both
grew up isolated and unloved, for the most part. Then we join Slytherin house, which doesn’t
exactly promote lovey dovey fun time, if you know what I mean. We’re just not used to feeling
things like normal people, so we’re pretty screwed up. But Hermione loves me and she understands
and can be patient. You just need to give Ginny some time, and then maybe, if things are looking
good, talk to her and see where you stand.”

“You know,” Draco said. “You’re a pretty smart guy Harry.”

“I know,” Harry said, grinning. “Funny story, when I was getting sorted, the Sorting Hat
actually had no idea where to put me. He said it was unprecedented for a student to actually have
all of the values that each house stood for. In the end, he gave me a choice. I chose Slytherin,
because it seemed like the best house to help me further my goals. Of course, at that point I had
no idea Slytherin had turned out more dark wizards than any other house, but irony is funny like
that.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Draco said, speaking rhetorically.

“Anyway,” Harry went on, “how about you get up and stop moping around. Lying here on your skinny
ass isn’t going to help anything.”

“Hey!” Draco shot back, sitting up. “My ass is not skinny!”

“That’s more like it,” Harry said, reaching forward and ruffling Draco’s hair, which was an easy
tactic to piss off the other Slytherin.

“That’s it!” Draco roared, before diving at Harry.

(----)

After catching up with Draco a little more, Harry left the Slytherin’s room and went back
downstairs. He still had to talk to Sirius about Hermione, after all. When he entered the kitchen,
he found that Remus had at some point left, leaving Sirius and Molly alone at the kitchen
table.

“Where’d Remus go?” Harry asked, taking a seat.

“He had to go speak with Dumbledore about something,” Sirius replied.

“Right,” Harry said, before getting to the point. “Listen, I’m really worried about Hermione.
Voldemort saw us together during the fight last term and I’m sure she’ll be on his list of
targets.”

“Hermione?” Mrs. Weasley said, looking puzzled.

“Harry’s girlfriend,” Sirius said, filling her in, without ever turning away from Harry. “So
what do you want me to do?”

“Talk with Dumbledore,” Harry said. “Tell him I want her brought here and for some protection to
be assigned for her parents.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sirius said.

“This needs to be done Sirius,” Harry said, making sure his godfather knew how important this
was to him. “If he says no, tell him that I want to talk to him.”

“I’m sure he won’t object,” Sirius said.

“Do you really think you-know-who will target her?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, “but I want to make sure he can’t.”

“I think that’s fair,” Sirius said. “Like I said, I’m sure Dumbledore won’t object. Besides, I’d
like to meet this girlfriend of yours.”

“I’m sure you do,” Harry said, giving his godfather a look that told him he’d better behave.
Sirius just laughed his bark like laugh.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



3. Chapter Three
----------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** A bit longer, sorry for the wait, but as I expected, life got in the way
again. On another note, I’m not sure whether the rest of the Order know about the prophecy, but for
the purpose of this fic they do. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for the reviews.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Three
As the morning went on, Sirius left to go see Dumbledore, and Harry was left alone with Molly
Weasley. They sat around the kitchen table, the dim light of the room creating a rather morbid
atmosphere. It was eventually broken when Molly stood up and started bustling around the kitchen
area, evidently deciding to get a start on breakfast.

“Would you like something Harry?” Mrs Weasley asked, turning from her task and facing him. She
looked rather haggard in the dim light, her hair drawn up into a messy bun with frayed bits
sticking out here and there. Harry couldn’t tell if it was just the lighting or not, but it was
painfully clear that the ambience of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters was grim.

“I’m okay thanks,” Harry replied, his mind wandering.

It was obvious that although Sirius and Remus claimed they had achieved a victory over
Voldemort, it was definitely not a true victory. It was probably because Voldemort was being so
quiet. Everybody was just waiting for the other shoe to drop – waiting for Voldemort’s retaliation
– and the longer it went on, the more nervous and on edge people became.

“Harry dear?”

Harry came back to himself, realising that he had not even been listening to whatever Molly
Weasley had been saying. He shook his head to clear it of thought and looked up at his elder,
smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Harry said, “I got lost in thought.”

“Oh,” Molly said, “I see. I was just asking if - ”

But then the door to the kitchen opened and two red headed teenagers appeared, clad in pyjamas
and with their hair tousled from sleep. The elder of the two red heads, Ron Weasley, frowned
momentarily, surprised, before he took a seat with a curt nod to his mum. He completely ignored
Harry. The other Weasley blushed faintly at being seen in her pyjamas, but took a seat at the table
as well, hiding behind her hair.

“Morning,” Molly said, greeting her children.

“Good morning,” Ginny said faintly from behind her hair.

“Ronald?” Molly prompted.

“Morning mum,” he grunted, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Thank you,” Molly said, before turning her attention back to Harry, who was smirking slightly
at Ron. Ron glared back at him. “As I was saying, I was asking if you were sure you didn’t want
something. It’s no trouble.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said, turning his head away from Ron and giving Mrs Weasley a polite
smile.

“Well,” Molly said, “if you change your mind, let me know. Ronald? Ginny?”

“Toast please,” Ron said, still glaring at Harry.

“Ginny?” Molly said, after the younger Weasley didn’t reply.

Ginny jumped slightly, her face flushing even further, before nodding. Seeming to realise this
didn’t really answer anything, she blurted out; “Toast,” and then went back hiding behind her long
red hair.

As Molly went to work on breakfast, Harry regarded Ron with blank eyes, his stare seemingly
making the other boy nervous, because he soon looked away, idly examining his fingernails.

“Oh,” Molly said suddenly, turning around again, “before I forget, the Ministry will be holding
Apparition tests this Friday, so don’t forget to practice Ronald. You don’t want to fail again do
you?”

Ron blushed, his ears turning red, and muttered: “No mum, thanks mum.”

“You’ll be taking them as well Harry?” Molly asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, “I couldn’t take them last time, I wasn’t of age then. I’m not worried
though, it’s easy.”

Ron glared at him and Harry smirked.

“That’s wonderful then,” Molly said, completely ignorant of the tension in the room, “you two
can go together. Maybe you could give Ron some tips.”

“I don’t need his help!” Ron abruptly burst out, standing up sharply, his ears a flaming red
now, almost glowing. He glared at Harry for a moment before storming from the room, slamming the
door behind him.

“Well,” Molly said, flabbergasted, “what was all that about? And what am I going to do with this
toast?” Molly sighed.

“I don’t think your son likes me much Mrs Weasley,” Harry said, giving Ginny a wink. The
youngest Weasley covered her smile with a hand, her eyes meeting Harry’s and shining with
amusement.

“I see,” Molly said, as the toast popped up in the background. “Still, I was only suggesting you
could give him some pointers. It’s no excuse for an outburst like that, not to mention we’re
supposed to be keeping it down. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with that boy. I better go give
him his toast.”

With that, Molly grabbed the toast, plopped it on a plate and left the kitchen in search for her
hotheaded son. Harry gave Ginny another wink, making her smile again. He was glad to see she could
still smile; after all she had gone through last term.

Harry got up and went to the kitchen area, sticking in two more slices of bread. Then he leant
against the kitchen counter and regarded Ginny, who was staring at the dinning table and idly
playing with the frayed hem of her pyjama bottoms. They remained silent, the only noise in the
entire three minutes being the toast popping up, ending the silence temporarily. Harry turned and
buttered it up, before sticking it on a plate and shoving it under Ginny’s nose. She turned
startled eyes to him and he gave her the warmest smile he could, before making to leave the room.
Her vice stopped him.

“Is Draco okay?” Ginny uttered.

Harry stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“He’s fine now,” Harry said, “but he was a bit of mess. It’s strange seeing him that way.”

“Because…” Ginny stalled. “Because of me?”

“I think so,” Harry said. “Look, I know things between you are complicated, especially with what
he did to you. But let me tell you this, Draco’s a very proud person. I’m not saying it’s a good
thing, but it’s just the way he is. He was acting very odd the few weeks before he….well…before he
broke up with you. My bet is he was fighting his own nature. I know he has feelings for you and I’m
pretty sure you figured that out after what happened last term. But the question isn’t about
Draco’s feelings anymore. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, barely audible, but Harry heard her. “I thought I loved him, but
then he broke my heart like that. Then he goes and saves my life doing something so idiotically
stupid, but so unbelievable brave at the same time - all for me. How am I supposed to feel?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “That’s for you to figure out. I can’t tell you that, but I can tell
you that Draco wants you back. I know what people think about him, but when it comes down to it,
Draco is a good guy. Ask yourself this – can you put up with someone so proud he’ll do damage to
himself just to feel like he isn’t a weakling? Can you put up with an emotionally screwed up idiot?
You have to know he’s going to make mistakes and they might hurt you, but if you can understand
this and work though it, then I think you know what to do.”

“Thank you Harry,” Ginny said.

“Your welcome,” Harry said, before turning the doorknob.

“Harry?” Ginny called, before he could leave the room. He looked back at her over his shoulder.
“I never thought you were evil, you know. You’ve always been my hero.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks.”

(----)

Sirius returned later in the day, bringing with him a surprise guest. Albus Dumbledore emerged
from the fireplace, following Sirius, his pointed hat crooked. His eyes twinkled at Harry as he
straightened his hat, before he strode over and clapped a hand to Harry’s shoulder.

“Always happens,” he said, pointing a wrinkled finger at the offending hat. “It’s the fireplace,
you see. It’s too low.”

“Right,” Harry said, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“I bet you’re wondering why I’m here,” Dumbledore said.

“A little,” Harry replied, looking at Sirius, who had since sat down and was now propping his
feet up in his usual laid back manner. Sirius offered no reply, he just grinned at him. Harry
looked back at Dumbledore.

“I shall not keep you waiting then,” Dumbledore said.

Harry had to stop himself from replying with a sarcastic, ‘that’s a first’, and only just
managed to do so. Instead, he sat down across from Sirius. Dumbledore claimed the seat next to
Sirius.

“First things first,” Dumbledore began, “Sirius has informed me of your wish that Miss Hermione
Granger be brought here and for her family to receive some protection. It might surprise you to
know that I have already assigned two members of the Order to guard the Granger family, at least on
a temporary basis. Understand that our numbers are thin, so this is not something I can keep up for
long.”

“So what do you intend to do then?” Harry said. “I mean if you already assigned them protection
I’m assuming you figured out that Voldemort probably sensed a connection between me and
Hermione.”

“I have been informed of your connection,” Dumbledore replied, “and I am sure Voldemort picked
up on it as well. He is, after all, a very observant person, and with his connection to you, I
think it would be no stretch to assume that he has discovered your relationship.”

“I’ve been keeping my shields up,” Harry said.

“As you should always do,” Dumbledore said, “but I’m afraid Voldemort is a lot more skilled than
you are. I do not think it would be too much trouble for him to break into your mind whilst you
sleep. What is worse, you would not even know it.”

“Well that’s no good,” Harry said, “I mean, that’s my only protection from him and your saying
it’s no good. I thought you said if I mastered Occlumency he wouldn’t be able to get in.”

“I did,” Dumbledore confirmed, “but unfortunately, you have not mastered it. You are talented in
the obscure art, but you are by no means a master of it.”

“So what?” Harry pressed.

“I think the time has come for me to teach you Harry,” Dumbledore said, raising a hand when
Harry opened his mouth to question him. “No worries, this time I am speaking plainly. I will teach
you what you need to know to successfully combat Voldemort. At least, when we have the time. I’m
sure you have not forgot about the Horcruxes.”

“How could I?” Harry asked dryly, speaking rhetorically.

Dumbledore smiled, before going on: “Back to business, I think it would be for the best for us
to move the Granger family to a safe location. I will have to speak to them first, but rest assured
Harry, we will find a solution. As for Miss Granger coming here for the rest of the summer: that is
perfectly acceptable, given she is willing and that she has her parents consent. I have arranged a
Portkey,” here he removed an old muggle hat from his robes and placed it on the table, “that will
take you and Sirius to the Granger household whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks Professor,” Harry said.

“One more thing,” Dumbledore said, searching inside his robe again. “I thought that it would be
a nice surprise for the two of you, ah, here we are.” Dumbledore removed his hand from his robes
and placed two shiny badges onto the table. Harry recognised them as the Head Boy and Head Girl
badges. “It seemed pointless to send them in the usual fashion, given that I would be seeing you
anyway.”

“You mean,” Harry said, picking up the Head Boy badge, “me and Hermione?”

“Correct,” Dumbledore said, smiling.

“I’m sure Hermione will be thrilled,” Harry said, before he held out his hand towards his
headmaster, the badge shining in the dim candlelight, “but I can’t accept this. I have no interest
in being Head Boy. I think you’ll agree I have more important things to attend too.”

Dumbledore smiled wider, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I rather thought you’d say that,” he
said, taking the badge back, “it’s a good job I have a replacement already. I can’t tempt you to
reconsider?”

“No thanks sir,” Harry said, “I’m honoured and everything, but just like the Prefect badge and
the Quidditch Captain badge, I’m not interested.”

Dumbledore pocketed the badge and nodded. “Then will you at least pass on my congratulations to
Miss Granger.”

“Sure,” Harry said, picking up the Head Girl badge and putting it in his pocket. “Like I said,
she’ll be thrilled.”

“Well then,” Dumbledore stood up, brushing off his robes, “I have business to attend to
elsewhere. It was good to see you again Harry.”

“You too sir,” Harry returned.

Dumbledore nodded his goodbye to both Harry and then Sirius, before he turned and exited the
kitchen. Harry stood up and stretched his muscles for relief, before turning to face the unusually
silent Sirius.

“Ready to go now?” Harry asked, nodding at the Portkey.

“Don’t waste time do you,” Sirius said, grinning.

“Not if I don’t have too,” Harry replied.

“On three then?” Sirius asked.

“One,” Harry said, putting his hand over the old muggle hat.

“Two,” Sirius said, doing the same.

“Three,” they said together, both of them touching the Portkey at the same time.

Together, they found themselves being transported through the air, everything rushing by so fast
it was nothing but one big blur, before they finally hit ground. Harry’s feet hit the ground with a
thud and his knees almost gave out, but he managed to stay on his feet. Looking around at his
surroundings, he found himself in a shadowed alley by a muggle trashcan. Sirius was next to him,
wand out.

“It’s just around this corner Harry,” Sirius said, pointing with his wand hand, “first house.
Get your wand out, but keep it hidden.”

Sirius shimmied his own wand up his sleeve. Harry took his own wand out and did the same,
keeping a good grip on it so that if he needed it, it would be in his hand in less than a
second.

They left the alleyway and turned onto the bright straight, the morning air and breeze greeting
him with a gust. Harry took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air after the staleness of Grimmauld
Place. Sirius pointed out the house as they neared it.

It was larger than Harry expected, red brick and with three windows facing them from the front.
The lawn spread out around them as they made their way up the gravel path by the driveway to the
single white door, the grass freshly cut and wet with dew. Sirius reached the door first, reaching
up with his other hand to ring the bell.

“Be nice Sirius,” Harry reminded his godfather sternly. The older wizard just gave him his
trademark mischievous grin.

“I’m always nice,” Sirius said.

Before Harry could reply, the door opened and a man who was just as tall as Sirius, but with a
lot more weight to him, greeted them. He had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, his face neatly
shaved and smooth.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Hi,” Harry said, speaking before Sirius had a chance too. “My name is Harry Potter. I’m sure
Hermione has mentioned me.”

“Ah,” the man sounded, before turning around and bellowing, “Hermione! Door!”

It took less than ten seconds for Hermione to reach them. She was wearing a yellow bathrobe,
neatly tied up, and was towelling her hair with one hand, her chocolate locks wet and frizzy. She
beamed when she saw him, her face still red from her obviously recent shower.

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “Honestly dad, you could have let them in. Come on, come in.”

And she ushered them inside, looking around, from her father, to Harry, and then to Sirius. She
smiled at them all, obviously trying to think of what to say next. Harry took pity on her and spoke
up.

“Hermione,” he said, “this is my godfather Sirius Black.”

“Oh,” Hermione gasped, and Harry could tell that she was blushing, even under her still flushed
face. He was probably the only one who noticed though. He liked to think of himself as an expect
when it came to Hermione blushing, after all, she had done it so much when they first met. “It’s
nice to finally meet you. Harry told me loads about you.”

“And you as well,” Sirius said, giving her a grin, “Harry just never stops talking about
you.”

“Oh?” Hermione turned a pleased smile to Harry.

Before Harry could say anything, the person who was obviously Hermiones father cleared his
throat rather loudly. Hermione turned to him and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry dad,” she said, “this is Harry, my boyfriend. Harry, my dad.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Harry said, offering his hand.

Mr Granger seemed a little taken aback, but took Harry’s hand and gave it a rough shake and a
squeeze, meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry just smiled, even though he knew what the man was doing.

“Pleasure to meet you as well,” Mr Granger replied.

Sirius offered his hand next, and Mr Granger took it as well, but this time it was Sirius who
gave the rough shake and squeeze. They both smiled pleasantly at each other as they squeezed, as if
they weren’t having a game of macho hand shake right in front of their respective charges.

Harry smiled at Hermione over the locked hands and she smiled back, giving him a look he knew
all too well. He returned it, winking, which just made her blush again.

“Dad,” Hermione said, turning her attention back to her father, “lets go into the living room.
I’m sure mum will want to meet our guests.”

“Right,” Mr Granger said, blinking and turning to look at his daughter, before he cleared his
throat and said louder, “right. Yes, come on then.”

Mr Granger led the way, with Sirius right behind him. Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and leant up
to give him a quick kiss.

“I missed you,” she whispered into his ear.

“Missed you too,” Harry said, returning her kiss.

They smiled at each other and then followed after the adults, meeting Sirius at the doorway to
the living room, where he gave them a cheeky look that they knew meant he’d seem them playing
tonsil hockey. Grinning at Hermiones abashed look, Harry entered the Grangers living room to meet
Mrs Granger.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



4. Chapter Four
---------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Here’s chapter four, hope you all like. Sorry for those who like longer
chapters, but I prefer smaller ones, so you’ll just have to suffer through it. Actually, I just
write until it feels right to stop and then whatever the length is, that’s what you get. Anyway,
thanks for the reviews and enjoy!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Four
Draco was sitting cross-legged on his bed when the knock came at his bedroom door. Wondering who
could possibly be knocking on his door (after all, Harry would have just walked in) he climbed to
his feet and opened the door slightly to peek thought he gap. A large white beard met his eyes,
which he raised to meet the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“Mr Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, “I was wondering if I could have a word?”

“Only if you don’t call me that,” Draco said, stepping back and opening the door
nonetheless.

Dumbledore walked in, taking in the room with a quick glance around, before turning to face
Draco once more.

“You do not wish me to call you by the name Malfoy?” Dumbledore enquired.

“I don’t want anyone to call me by that name,” Draco said.

“Interesting,” Dumbledore said, “may I ask why?”

“That name holds no respect or honour,” Draco answered. “At least, not anymore. I don’t want
anyone to call me by that name, not until I can bring that respect back.”

“I see,” Dumbledore said, nodding and smiling. “Then, Draco, may I have a seat?”

“Whatever,” Draco replied, waving an arm at a chair.

Dumbledore smiled again and took the chair, propping his elbows on his knees and observing Draco
over steeple hands. Draco coughed, slightly uncomfortable with the Headmaster looking at him so
intently, before he sat down on the end of the bed.

“How are you, Draco?” Dumbledore asked.

“Fine,” Draco said.

“It must be hard,” Dumbledore went on, “not being able to see your mother again, nor return to
your home. What you did was a very brave and noble thing, standing up to your father and Voldemort
like that.”

“Brave?” Draco sneered. “More like stupid. I’m not brave Professor. I’m not noble. I only did
what I had to do.”

“But what you did was brave and noble,” Dumbledore explained, “whatever your reasons.”

“What do you want?” Draco asked, bluntly.

“I want to give you a chance Draco,” Dumbledore said. “I make it a point to always give people a
chance, even a second chance, if I feel they deserve it. Sometimes I am right, and sometimes I am
wrong. However, I am human, and like many people before me I am capable of bias. I try my best to
overcome it and to give everyone a chance, but from time to time I have already made up my mind
about certain people. Your father was one of these people, and I am ashamed to admit, you were as
well. I always thought that you would follow in his footsteps, through no fault of your own. An
upbringing like yours rarely produces a decent child. Often, the child is…how can I put this…almost
brainwashed into following the parent’s ideals. But every now and then an anomaly does occur. I was
pleased when a young Sirius Black was sorted into Gryffindor, when I was almost certain he would
end up in Slytherin. My point is Draco, should I admit I was wrong about you, and give you a
rightful chance?”

“I think that’s your decision,” Draco replied.

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed, “it is, but I was asking for your opinion on the matter. Harry has
always told me that he trusted you with his life. He told me that you were a good person. I wasn’t
sure what to believe, but I am glad he was right. You see - I am going to give you that chance
Draco. I think Harry was right when he told me you could be counted on.”

“Sir,” Draco said, “as long as Harry is in this fight, then so am I, whether you trust me or
not. It doesn’t really matter. I swore to Harry that I’d be by his side and that’s what I’m going
to do. I’ll fight for his side and bring back the respect the Malfoy name used to have.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said. “I’m pleased to have you on our side. As a token of the trust I am
offering you,” Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out the Head Boy badge Harry had turned
down, presenting it to Draco wordlessly.

Draco smirked and reached out, taking the offered badge. “So,” he said, “Harry turned it down
did he?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Draco muttered, running his thumb over the engraved badge.

“Yes well,” Dumbledore said, “I was not expecting him to really accept it. I hope your not going
to follow his lead in this matter.”

“Nah,” Draco said, pocketing the badge, “I think being Head Boy sounds brilliant. I get my own
digs right?”

Dumbledore laughed. “Yes,” he said, “you do. The Head Boy and Girl each get their own rooms,
joint by a shared common room.”

“Thank Merlin,” Draco said, “I really didn’t fancy sleeping with the rest of those Slytherins.
I’m not condemning them all, but I suspect a few in our year are very loyal to Voldemort. And after
outwardly defying him like that, I’m pretty sure they’d have something nasty to slip down my throat
while I was sleeping, you know? Anyway, who’s Head Girl?”

“That would be Miss Hermione Granger,” Dumbledore answered.

“Right,” Draco said, thoughtful. “Well, I think that’ll work out fine. Thanks.”

Dumbledore gave him a searching look, but obviously could not figure out what Draco was
thinking, because he nodded and then excused himself. Draco muttered a goodbye and shut the door
behind the Headmaster. Of course, Draco was thinking of the great opportunities that lay ahead for
him in the coming year. That was, if Ginny came around anytime soon. Suddenly deflated, Draco
cursed softly and slumped back onto his bed, head filling with fantasies that seemed far off to
him, at least at this moment in time.

(----)

Harry and Sirius sat in the Granger household living room, with Hermione sitting next to Harry,
separated from the rest of the Grangers by a small coffee table. The Granger living room was
pleasant, with the furniture nestled nicely into the room. They sat on two long three-seater sofas
nestled around the fireplace, with a bookshelf at the back, by a door that obviously led to the
kitchen.

Mrs Jane Granger was pretty in her own right, with almost the exact same hair that Hermione had,
big and tightly curled. She dressed conservatively, which wasn’t a big surprise to Harry. The
Grangers seemed very straight laced and proper.

Hermiones mother seemed very excited to see him, treating him as if he was royalty; almost the
exact opposite of the cool way Mr Granger treated him. She offered him and Sirius tea and biscuits,
which Sirius quickly and gladly accepted before Harry could decline.

“So,” Mrs Granger began, pouring two cups of tea for them, “I’d like to say I’ve heard a lot
about you, but our Hermione has been rather tight lipped about you, Harry. However, it’s very nice
to meet you and your father.”

“Oh,” Hermione gasped, her cheeks tinged pink, “actually, erm…”

“Sirius is my Godfather,” Harry said, giving Hermione a reassuring smile, after all, it was
clear she was unsure how to broach the subject that her boyfriend was an orphan and the wizarding
world’s savoir. “My parents died when I was one.”

“I see,” Mrs Granger replied, flushing slightly at her mistaken assumption. “I’m very sorry to
hear that.”

“Harry,” Hermione all but moaned, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to bring this up now,
do you?”

“Actually,” Harry said, giving her another reassuring smile, “I think it needs to be said. I’m
surprised you haven’t already told them.”

“Told us what, exactly?” Hermiones father asked coolly.

“Well,” Harry said, giving Sirius a look that told him he’d handle it, “I’m not sure how much
you really know…?”

“Hermione doesn’t tell us much,” Mrs Granger answered, giving her daughter a wounded look.

“I don’t tell you because I know you’ll over react.” Hermione defended herself.

“Well,” Harry said, breaking into the tension before it could escalate. “I think I understand
why Hermione didn’t tell you now, but I think it’s far past the time you need to know. You see,
before I was born there was a wizard who turned bad, very bad. He caused a lot of trouble in the
wizarding world. A prophecy was made that a child would be born who had the power to defeat this
wizard, and that nobody else would be able to do so. This wizard, who goes by the name Voldemort,
found out about the prophecy. I was one of the children who could potentially fulfil the prophecy,
so he targeted my parents and killed them when I was only one. He tried to kill me as well, but his
spell backfired for some reason and he ended up stuck between life and death, a spirit without a
body.”

“Wait a minute,” Mr Granger interrupted, holding up one hand and rubbing the bridge of his nose
with the other, “you can’t be serious.”

“He is,” Sirius said. “Very serious - as he should be. Voldemort is no joke Mr Granger,
especially now that he’s back.”

“He’s back?” Mrs Granger squeaked, eyes wide. She stared at her daughter in disbelief. “How
could you not tell us this? I knew we should have took you out of that…dangerous school when you
got attacked by that…Troll thing!”

“Mum!” Hermione protested. “This is why I didn’t tell you! I knew you’d act like this.”

“Well,” Mr Granger said seriously, “I’m certainly not letting you go back now young lady.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius spoke before him, knowing Harry enough to know
that the world about to escape his mouth would be less than pleasant.

“That would be futile,” Sirius said. “Actually, taking Hermione out of Hogwarts is probably the
worst course of action at this point.”

“And why is that?” Mr Granger asked snidely, obviously thinking Sirius was talking nonsense.

“Because Hermione is a Muggleborn,” Sirius said. “One of Voldemorts main goals is to kill all
Muggleborn witches and wizards. He believes that all non-pureblood magical people should be
eradicated. So like I said, taking Hermione out of Hogwarts would not help one bit. In fact, she’d
be safer at Hogwarts, under Dumbledores protection.”

“And mine,” Harry said emphatically.

“What are you going to do?” Mr Granger asked mockingly. “You’re just a boy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Mr Granger, but again, before he could speak, he was interrupted.

“Stop it!” Hermione shouted, her face flushed.

“Hermione dear,” Mrs Granger gasped.

“I don’t care mum,” Hermione said, standing up. “Dad, you’re being a jerk. Harry, please calm
down.”

Harry nodded, but he kept his eyes locked on Mr Granger. Mr Granger looked at his daughter,
surprised.

“I don’t care what you say,” Hermione said. “I’m going back to Hogwarts and you can’t stop me.
This is my life now; I don’t belong in the Muggle world anymore. Please don’t make me have to
choose between you and the world I love. I don’t want that.”

“We won’t dear,” Mrs Granger replied, taking her daughters hand and giving it a squeeze. “Your
father and I are just worried. You didn’t expect us to take all this news with a smile did you? But
I understand how you feel and I won’t make you stay home. Besides, Mr…”

“Black,” Sirius said. “Sirius Black.”

“Mr Black here has convinced me it would be best if you returned to Hogwarts,” Mrs Granger went
on, “under your Headmaster’s protection.”

“I promise you,” Harry said, finally looking away from Mr Granger, locking eyes with Mrs
Granger, “I won’t let anything happen to Hermione. In fact, I’m here today to make sure she stays
safe. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be here this summer. Voldemort knows the connection
I have with her and I’m sure he won’t hesitate to take advantage of it.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Mrs Granger asked. Mr Granger seemed to be trying to curb his own
emotions by staying quiet and letting his wife handle things.

“We have a safe house,” Sirius said. “My house, actually. It’s the Headquarters for the Order of
the Phoenix, a resistance group dedicated to fighting Voldemort. Only those who know of it’s
existence and have been given the address by the Secret Keeper can enter it, so it’s completely
safe. If it’s okay with you, we’d like to take Hermione with us when we leave. I know it’s short
notice, but the sooner the better.”

“I’ll go,” Hermione said.

“Alan?” Mrs Granger said, turning to her husband.

“…Fine,” Alan Granger said, running a hand through his hair.

“On another matter,” Sirius said, “we don’t think it’s entirely safe for you either. Voldemort
might attack you, just to cause Hermione pain and to get at Harry. At the moment you’re house is
being watched by two members of the Order, but we’re very limited in numbers and its not really
ideal for us to keep an eye on you at all times. Dumbledore will be around someday soon to talk
about further protection for you.”

“Thank you,” Mrs Granger said.

“Thank Harry,” Sirius said, “He pretty much ordered Dumbledore to assign you protection.”

“I see,” Mrs Granger said, turning to offer Harry a smile and another ‘thank you’.

“It’s no problem,” Harry said. “Oh yeah, before I forget. Dumbledore wanted me to give you this
Hermione,” Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the Head Girl badge, handing it to Hermione
with a grin.

“Wow,” Hermione breathed, reaching out for the badge. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “congratulations.”

“Well done dear,” Mrs Granger said.

“Wow,” Hermione repeated, putting the badge in her pocket.

“Right,” Harry said, “so, ready to go now? Like Sirius said, the sooner the better.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed, standing up, “come help me pack?”

“Sure,” Harry said, standing as well.

“Excuse me,” Sirius said, getting Mrs Granger attention. He held up a half eaten biscuit.
“Anymore of these? They’re great.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs Granger said, smiling, “they are aren’t they? Come on, theirs some in the
kitchen.”

Mrs Granger led Sirius into the kitchen as Hermione left the room, Harry on her heels. Mr
Granger followed and stopped Harry at the bottom of the stairs with a hand on his elbow.

“You look after my girl,” he said, “promise me that.”

“Of course I will,” Harry said. “I promise.”

Mr Granger nodded and went to join his wife and Sirius in the kitchen. Harry watched him go,
before following Hermione, meeting her at the top of the stairs. She gave him a wide smile and a
quick kiss, before dragging him into her room.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



5. Chapter Five
---------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Another chapter, again, sorry for the wait. Life is hectic, yadda yadda
yadda. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for the reviews!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Five
Harry, Hermione and Sirius arrived via return Portkey just outside of Grimmauld Place, where the
sky was darkening as night descended. They had spent the most part of the afternoon with the
Grangers, giving Hermione enough time to say a proper goodbye, before they left the house. Hermione
shivered at the cold weather that seemed to surround Grimmauld Place, her flesh rising in tiny
goose bumps, before looking up at the house before her. Or at least, she thought a house should be
there. Turning puzzled eyes to Harry, he gave her a smile and handed her a piece of paper.

“Read it and remember it,” he said, whilst Sirius cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

Hermione quickly read the piece of paper, feeling the sense of urgency that was flowing from
Sirius in waves. Then she raised her eyes to where she thought the house should be, blinked, and
suddenly it was before her, looming like a dark evil shadow creature from one of those Stephen King
horror books her father always read.

“Come on,” Harry said, taking her by the arm and leading her up the steps. She scowled slightly,
not liking being treated like a child, but understanding it was just Harry’s instinctive nature to
protect her. Sirius knocked on the door and a few seconds later it opened and they shuffled
inside.

A motherly looking woman greeted them, clad in a night robe and carrying a lantern to light up
the surrounding darkness. Hermione could see she had red hair - pulled tightly up at the moment,
though a few strands had fallen loose – and a face that was lined with worry and melancholy. She
quickly put on a bright smile, but Hermione saw right through it.

“Hello dear,” the woman said, who Hermione assumed to be the mother of the Weasley family, “it’s
nice to meet you. I only wish it could have been during better times than these.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, “it’s nice to meet you too.”

“Ginny has told me a lot about you,” Molly said. “She said you’re the smartest witch in your
year.”

“She is,” Harry said, giving Hermione a proud look.

“Oh, well,” Hermione blushed, “I’m useless really. I mean, there’s a difference between
understanding how things work and actually doing them when it counts.”

“You sound like Ginny,” Molly said, shaking her head. “She’s really having a tough time with
everything that happened last term. I hoped you might be able to cheer her up a bit.”

“Well,” Hermione said, “I’ll certainty try.”

“Thank you dear,” Molly said, smiling at her with gratification.

“Its no problem,” Hermione assured, “she’ll be in her room, won’t she?”

“Yes,” Molly said, nodding.

“I’ll show you the way,” Harry said. He held out his hand to Sirius. “I’ll show her to her room
as well.”

Sirius nodded and handed over Hermione’s bag, which Harry slung over his shoulder, before taking
Hermiones hand and leading her up the stairs. Hermione watched Sirius and Molly disappear through a
door down the hall as they climbed the stairs, the pair talking in hushed tones. She turned her
attention back to Harry, who looked lost in thought. It wasn’t that unusual for Harry to fall into
silence and Hermione was more than used to it, so she let him think for a bit longer before finally
breaking the quiet.

“Harry?” she asked, pulling him to stop once they where almost halfway down the second floor
corridor.

“Huh?” Harry looked at her, smiling in a strangely bashful way. It was another thing that was
odd about Harry, the way he acted around her. He was so free with her, or at least, as free as
Harry could be. It was unusual to use the word bashful in describing Harry, when he was so normally
stoic and aloof, but Hermione was touched that he felt comfortable enough to let his walls down
with her. “Sorry Hermione, I got lost in my own head. Did you say something?”

“No,” Hermione said, “but you were supposed to be showing me my room, and then taking me to
Ginny, right?”

“Right,” Harry said, grinning at her. “Sorry, come on.”

Harry and Hermione passed a few more doors before Harry eventually stopped her, giving her
another little grin and opening the door they had stopped in front of. As Hermione went to enter,
he blocked her way with an arm, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

“My room is at the end of this corridor,” he said, huskily, before pulling back and waging his
eyebrows. Hermione giggled, unable to help the slight blush that crept into her cheeks. She swatted
at his arm good-naturedly.

“Pervert,” she accused, giving him a smile to take away the meaning.

“I can’t help it if you’re too beautiful for your own good,” Harry said, trapping her between
the doorway now, an arm on either side of her so she couldn’t escape. He leant close. “If you don’t
want me jumping you ever second you should really think about putting a bag over your head or
something, maybe wear some baggy clothing.”

Hermione made a shocked sound, opening her mouth and eyes wide for effect. “If you expect to get
any action after saying something like that then you’re sorely mistaken buster!”

“Tease!” Harry accused, running a hand over her rather tight cardigan, feeling the curve of her
breast.

Hermione closed her eyes and gasped slightly as he ran his thumb over her nipple, feeling the
action through two layers of cotton, tickling the sensitive area. Her flushed cheeks grew more
pronounced as Harry leant in and almost kissed her, his breath hot against her mouth.

“You can’t resist me,” Harry whispered, his breath mixing with her own, “so don’t try playing
games. You want me as much as I want you.”

“Of course I do,” Hermione mumbled, opening her eyes and looking into his emerald orbs, “so
let’s get it over with and just kiss already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Harry said, finally capturing her lips with his own. They kissed
passionately, tongues colliding and battling for dominance, Harry pressing Hermione tiny frame up
into the door way, his hand riding up her cardigan as he slipped it under to get better access to
her breasts. Hermione’s hand clutched at Harry’s back, eventually slipping down to cup his butt
lightly. Before they could go any further, a gagging sound interrupted them.

“Ugh, please, “ the distinct drawl of Draco Malfoy said, “if you’re going to shag, be
considerate of others and get in the bloody room. It’s just three steps to the left.”

Harry stopped, resting his head on Hermiones as she attempted to hide by burying herself in his
chest, cheeks no longer aflame with lust, but embarrassment. She heard Harry groan softly, before
he disentangled himself from her and turned to his friend. She hid her face by looking at the
floor, but she could hear them talking.

“Great timing Draco,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Don’t I always?” Draco asked, and though Hermione wasn’t looking, she knew he was smirking.

“I see Dumbledore gave you the Head Boy badge,” Harry said, making Hermione look up. Draco was
indeed wearing the Head Boy badge, pined to his robes. Draco caught her eye.

“Excited about your own room Granger?” Draco asked, giving her a teasing look. “I’m sure you’ll
have plenty of use for it. Just remember to close the door, will you?”

Hermione felt her cheeks flame up again, knowing exactly what Draco was alluding to. Harry gave
his best friend a punch on the arm.

“Don’t stupid Draco,” Harry said, giving Hermione a smile. “What do you think Slytherins
Chamber’s for?”

“Harry!” Hermione snapped, feeling like if she blushed anymore, it would become permanent.

“Sorry Hermione,” Harry said, giving her a playful smile, “it was too good to pass up. Come on,
you know I’m only kidding. Kinda.”

“Keep it up and you certainly won’t get any!” Hermione said crossly.

“Where’ve I heard that before?” Harry said, mocking thinking. He held up a finger. “Aha! That’s
it. What was it, five minutes ago?”

“Shut it you!” Hermione said, as Draco doubled up laughing.

Harry chuckled as well, but came forward and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a quick
kiss on the forehead. “Hey, come on,” he said, “I’m only joking.”

“I know,” Hermione mumbled, not wanting to forgive him so easily but being unable to when he
grinned at her. “It’s okay. Anyway, let’s put my bag in my room and then you can show me to
Ginny’s.”

“Right,” Harry said, putting her bag in said room and the closing the door behind him. He
pointed down the hall. “Ginny’s is just two doors down. Come on.”

Draco followed them now, suddenly silent. They stopped outside Ginny’s door and Harry gave her a
quick kiss.

“Me and Draco will be in the kitchen if you want to come down after, okay?” Harry said.

“Okay,” Hermione nodded, watching as Harry started to walk away backwards, waving. She smiled
and waved back.

“Later Granger,” Draco said, as he passed her.

“Bye,” Hermione said, watching the duo walk down the hall and eventually disappear down the
stairs. She took a breath, composed herself, and then knocked. “Ginny?” she called. “Its me,
Hermione. Can I come in?”

She heard what she assumed was an assent come through the door, but it sounded more like a grunt
than anything else. Hermione took another breath before opening the door and stepping in.

The room was dark, like the rest of the house, making it hard for Hermione to really see
anything distinctive. She could just about make out a lump of blankets, which on closer inspection
turned out to be Ginny, who was curled up in bed. Hermione approached and sat down on the end of
the bed.

“Hey Ginny,” she said, as her greeting.

“Hi Hermione,” Ginny’s voice came from beneath the blankets.

“Ginny,” Hermione began, “what are you doing? Don’t you think it’s a bit too early to be in
bed?”

“I’m just thinking,” Ginny said, the blankets shifting as she rolled over and emerged from under
the covers. Her hair was in disarray, tangled and sticking up all over the place. She shifted a bit
more so she was sitting up, resting against the headboard.

“Thinking about…Draco?” Hermione tried.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “partly, anyway. I’m thinking about last term. I can’t get it out my
mind…”

“Do you want to talk Ginny?” Hermione asked.

“Promise me what we talk about never leaves this room?” Ginny said. “I need you to promise. You
can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, not even Harry.”

“Okay,” Hermione agreed.

“I’ve had nightmares,” Ginny said, “ever since my first year in Hogwarts. When I was taken down
into the Chamber of Secrets, ever since then. I got better, and I didn’t have them as often, as
time went by, but the feeling never went away - that helpless feeling. I tried to act tough, like
it didn’t affect me. Look at me, I’m Ginny Weasley, I’m good at Quidditch and not bad looking and
I’m really outgoing and fun, right? Wrong, that was just a rouse. Inside I’m just a scared little
girl, the same scared little girl that was taken into the Chamber of Secrets. I tried to lie and
fool myself, but after last term, it was made perfectly obvious to me. I’m so weak Hermione; I
couldn’t even help Draco when he was putting his life on the line for me. All I did was lie there
and cry like the weakling I am.”

“Ginny,” Hermione said, looking at her friend in a totally new light. “You’re not a weakling.
Nobody expected you to stand up and fight. Nobody holds that against you. It was Voldemort, Ginny.
The darkest wizard the world has ever seen.”

“But I’m a Gryffindor,” Ginny said. “We’re supposed to be brave. You know what I feel like? I
feel like I don’t belong in Gryffindor, like I should be in Hufflepuff or something.”

“I know how you feel Ginny,” Hermione said. “I remember that helpless feeling from when that
Troll attacked me. But you don’t let it master you; you fight it, because you can. It’s inside you
Ginny. The Sorting Hat wouldn’t have put you in Gryffindor if you didn’t belong there.”

“But what if my bravery was scared right out of me?” Ginny asked, fidgeting with her
blankets.

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione chastised. “It’s inside you, Ginny. Your just scared, that’s all,
which is perfectly understandable and nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not weak Ginny, you’re
strong; you just have to find the strength inside you. I thought like you once, but then somebody
showed me how strong I was.”

“Who?”

“Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s hard, because I still feel like I’m useless sometimes, but with
Harry by my side I know that I can fight through it. I’m strong and I won’t let my fear rule
me.”

“Wow,” Ginny said, blinking and smiling. “That was beautiful. Will you help me fight my fear
Hermione?”

“I will,” Hermione said. “As will Harry, if you ask him. And I’m sure Draco would as well, if
you wanted to let him help.”

“I…”

“Do you?” Hermione pressed.

“I just don’t know,” Ginny said. “My feelings for Draco are so complicated. Sometimes I just
want to run straight into his arms and forgive him for everything he did. Then at other times I
want to beat the crap put of him and never speak to him again. Then I remember what he did for me
and I feel like *I* don’t deserve *him*! It’s crazy!”

Hermione smiled slightly. “You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so.”

(-----)

**Piccolo999**



6. Chapter Six
--------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Sorry! So sorry! Damn it’s been longer than I’d like between updates, but
what can I say? Stupid life getting in the way. Anyway, hope you all like this chapter. I think
some of you will get a better understanding of how my Ron works and his relationship with Harry. It
will be something else that develops over the story, and this is where it begins.

To those who mentioned how disappointed they were that Harry turned down the Head boy badge. I
really couldn’t have done it any other way. I would have been going against my Harry if I’d had him
accept. He also turned down the Prefect badge and the Quidditch Captain badge, so it was really no
surprise to everyone else. I thought I’d made it clear that Harry just really doesn’t care much for
trivial things like that. He’s got much larger ambitions and worries. Besides, Draco needed the
room anyway. You’ll see why. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Six
So far, Harry was having the best summer he’d ever had. It spoke considerably for how bad his
previous summers had been, seeing as this particular summer was full of nervous anticipation,
everyone just waiting for Voldemort’s next move. Nevertheless, Harry had Hermione and Draco with
him, and even Ginny occasionally, though she was often quiet and withdrawn. All in all, it had been
fun spending time with his best friend and girlfriend, without having to think about classes or
homework. Harry was beginning to get a true idea of what a real summer holiday was like.

They couldn’t do much, but it was still fun to just be with them. They’d lounge around in the
living room of Grimmauld Place, playing games and talking about whatever came to mind. Harry
sometimes found himself just sitting there, watching two of the most important people in his life.
To say he was surprised that Hermione and Draco had hit it off was no understatement.

Hermione had always expressed her doubts about Draco to him, many, many times over the last
year, and especially after what Draco had done to Ginny. Draco could often be stubborn about
certain things, and Gryffindors where one of those things. Though he didn’t agree with his father’s
beliefs, Draco still was a Slytherin, and Slytherins don’t socialise with Gryffindors. It just
doesn’t happen.

In retrospect, Harry shouldn’t have been that surprised. After all, Draco had also fallen for a
Gryffindor, and while he could be very stubborn, he would also surprise you from time to time and
be very reasonable. Harry was sure Draco had changed his views on Gryffindors slightly. Not all of
them, because Harry and Draco both had a lot of fun pushing Ron Weasleys buttons, but enough to
give them a chance.

Hermione, on the other hand, Harry wasn’t sure about. He’d asked her, and she had admitted to
being slightly wary of the Slytherin, but apparently his performance during the battle last term
had won him over with her significantly. Hermione said she was willing to give Draco a chance.

Watching the two of them tease each other as they played wizards chess, Harry felt himself
feeling content. This was what life should be like all the time, just enjoying the companionship of
your friends and family.

But when Harry woke up on this particular weekday, he knew it wasn’t going to be another day of
rest and relaxation. Today was the day he’d take his Apparition test. He had no worries, as he was
certain he’d ace it, so he got out of bed sedately and slowly got ready for the day. He left his
room clad only in his boxers and went to the bathroom down the corridor, washing his face and
shaving the little pin pricks of stubble that had started to develop on his chin and cheeks.
Returning to his room, he got dressed in some muggle jeans and a plain blue shirt, deciding to
leave his wizards robes aside for today.

When he arrived in the kitchen for breakfast, Ron Weasley was already up, dressed and yawning
widely at the table, groggily staring at some uneaten toast that was rapidly getting cold. Harry
sat down across from the other teen and smiled when Mrs. Weasley placed a plate of toast before
him. It never ceased to surprise him how the matriarch of the Weasley family seemed to always know
what he wanted for breakfast, how he wanted it, and when he wanted it. It was like she was psychic
or something.

“Thanks Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, picking up his toast and taking a bite.

“Ronald,” Mrs. Weasley said crossly. “Eat your toast. Its getting cold and you need to eat
something before you take your Apparition test. You don’t want to fail again do you?”

“No mum,” Ron said, picking up his toast as well and taking a bite. He glared at Harry the whole
time. Harry pretended to be interested in checking his nails for dirt, ignoring the young Weasleys
ire.

“Good boy,” Mrs. Weasley said, ruffling his red hair. Ron scowled and Harry bit back a smirk.
Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry. “Remus will be taking you for your tests, he should be here any
minute now.”

“Okay,” Harry said, after swallowing a bite.

Sure enough, Remus arrived only a few short minutes after that, emerging from the fireplace
amidst a vast amount of soot. He coughed, glaring in vain at the fireplace.

“That thing really needs to be cleaned,” Remus choked, turning to smile at Mrs. Weasley, then
Harry and Ron. “Good Morning, how is everyone?”

“As well as can be expected,” Mrs. Weasley answered, “any news?”

“Nope,” Remus said, tossing a thoroughly read Daily Prophet onto the table. “Not a peep.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily.

“Ready to go?” Remus asked, facing Harry and Ron again.

“Yeah,” Harry said, finishing off his toast. Ron grunted an affirmative, still glaring at Harry
as if his mere presence was offensive to the redhead.

“Good,” Remus said, cheerfully.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Harry asked, squinting at him thoughtfully.

“Nothing,” Remus replied a little too quickly, and Harry thought he saw a faint blush form on
the shabbily dressed man’s cheeks.

“Right,” Harry replied, drawing it out and making it perfectly clear he didn’t believe his
former Professor.

Remus cleared his throat loudly and was about to speak when the door to the kitchen opened and
Draco and Hermione appeared. Draco was still in his pyjamas, but Hermione was fully dressed. She
smiled a greeting at everyone. Draco ignored everybody and went right for the kitchen table.

“Good Morning,” Hermione said. She walked up to Harry and took his hand. “I’m glad I caught you
before you left.”

“That’s good then,” Remus said, giving her a smile. “Perfect timing. We were just about to
leave.”

Ron stood up, joining Harry, Hermione and Remus by the door. Draco picked up Ron’s uneaten toast
when the redheads back was turned and took a bite. He scrunched his face up in distaste and dropped
the piece of dried bread back onto Ron’s plate with a faint ‘ugh’.

“So we going or what?” Ron pressed.

“Right,” Remus said. “Come on then.”

“Good luck,” Hermione said, stepping up on tiptoes to give Harry a soft kiss.

Harry grinned. “I don’t need luck,” he boasted, “but thanks anyway.”

“Good luck Ronald!” Mrs. Weasley called.

“Yeah,” Draco echoed, smirking, “Good luck *Ronald*!”

Ron turned and glared at him, for once taking his eyes off Harry, as the trio left the room.
Hermione approached the table and whacked Draco on the head as she passed him, but she was smiling
softly. Draco just grinned, rubbing at his head.

(----)

As was becoming a more and more constant in his life, Ron was having a horrible day. First of
all, he was the most nervous he had ever been, having to take his Apparition test for the second
time. Yeah, that’s right, gloat all you want - Ron Weasleys a bloody idiot who can’t even Apparate
properly. You get the idea. And to add to his already bad mood, he had to take his Apparition test
along with Harry Potter, the most annoying person Ron had ever met.

Ron just didn’t know what to think of the Slytherin. Ever since he had first saw the renowned
Boy Who Lived, he’d always had a bad feeling about him. After all, nothing good ever came out of
Slytherin! At least, that’s what Ron always thought. His feeling only got worse and worse as he
grew up.

Harry Potter was the most isolated person he’d ever seen. He hardly ever talked to anyone, at
least as far as Ron could see. He’d occasionally be seen with Draco Malfoy, but that didn’t really
add anything in his favour. It only served to increase Ron’s worries. Ron just didn’t understand
why no one did anything about it. It was a big oversight in his opinion. They even let the guy
wander around the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, how bloody stupid was that?

Anyway, Ron found himself getting a face full of metaphorical water when Harry Potter saved him
and the rest of the Gryffindors during You Know Who’s attack on Hogwarts last year. Ron just didn’t
get it. Potter was a Slytherin, why was he helping them? Shouldn’t he be out there helping the
Death Eaters pick off students? Instead, he was saving Ron’s life and sucking face with Hermione
Granger, the second most isolated person he knew.

In the end, Ron just had to accept that Potter was actually on their side, at least for now.
However, that didn’t mean he had to like the guy, or that he had to really trust him. Ron made up
his mind to always keep an eye on Potter, just in case. Potter didn’t seem bothered to try and be
his friend either, and that was just fine, as far as he was concerned.

The only thing they had in common was a mutual dislike of the other.

So having to spend the day with the annoying prick was definitely not something Ron looked
forward too. That was why he was currently glaring at Potter’s back as they walked into the
Ministry of Magic. They made their way through numerous corridors and one seemingly endless
elevator ride until they eventually arrived at the Magical Evaluation office, where they would be
taking their Apparition tests.

When they arrived, it was packed full of teenagers around Ron’s age, and even a few older
wizards. It seemed it wasn’t such an uncommon thing for a wizard to fail the first time. As Ron was
looking around, he spotted a familiar face heading towards them with a grin.

“Harry!” Neville Longbottom called, clumsily dodging a wizard and avoiding a collision.

“Hey Neville,” Harry said, turning to spot his friend.

“Hi Ron,” Neville added, spotting Ron for the first time. Ron returned the greeting with a
slight smile. He had no idea how Neville could stand Potter, but that was beside the point. He
still liked the friendly boy.

“I’m excited,” Neville said, grinning, “aren’t you? I just know I’ll pass. How can I fail when I
have such an awesome teacher?”

“I’m sure you will,” Harry replied.

Ron tuned them out, not eager to listen to their confident gloating. He surveyed the roughly
round room they stood in. At the far end he could make out a little table with a register and a
sign telling them they needed to put their names down in order to take the test. Ron made to do so,
spotting their chaperone Remus Lupin already waiting in line. He stopped beside him.

“It’s okay Ron,” Remus said, noticing him. “I’ll put your name down for you. Go talk with Harry
and Neville.”

“I’d rather not,” Ron returned, glaring over his shoulder at the pair.

“Oh?” Remus murmured, edging for ward in the line. Ron followed. “How come?”

“They’re so confident, it’s sickening.” Ron replied brusquely.

“Sometimes confidence is important,” Remus replied. “It can make all the difference. If you
think you can’t do something, you’ll most likely fail. Harry knows this, which is why he always
seems to confident in himself.”

“Don’t you mean arrogant?” Ron asked.

Remus laughed. “I suppose,” he said, “but that’s just the way it is. Powerful people generally
end up arrogant whether they want to be or not. Even Dumbledore is arrogant - just ask him.”

“What’s your point?” Ron asked.

“The point is,” Remus said. “Nobody is perfect.”

Ron looked back at Harry, watching as the Slytherin chatted away with Neville. He frowned,
thinking about all that Professor Lupin had said. He was broken out of his thoughts when somebody’s
distorted voice echoed around the room, through the obvious enhancement of a Sonorus charm. Ron had
become so lost in his own head that he hadn’t even realised Remus had gone ahead and signed them
all up for the tests, or that almost twenty minutes had passed. Ron found Remus, Harry and Neville
standing nearby and approached them, all the while keeping an ear open for the Sonorus enchanted
voice.

“…will begin shortly,” the voice was saying, “and it will consist of two simple exercises,
focusing on your accuracy and projection. You will receive more information from your Apparition
instructor, who will be with you shortly. Thank you.”

“Good luck everyone,” Remus said, giving them each an encouraging smile.

“Thanks Professor Lupin,” Neville said, grinning.

Harry just gave their old Professor a knowing smile. Ron shook his head, his insides squirming.
He just knew he was going to fail again. He could already see Potter’s mocking smile and could hear
Malfoys sarcastic laughing echoing in his ears. Gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, Ron vowed
to himself that he’d pass, just to shove it in their faces. Arrogant pricks.

“Ron Weasley!” A voice bellowed.

Nodding to himself, Ron approached his instructor with his head held high, ready to prove to
himself and everyone else that he wasn’t a joke.

(----)

“So, how did it go?”

Ron was asked that question, in varying ways, often over the next few days. It was one of the
greatest moments in his life, being able to hold his head up and proclaim to all that he’d passed
with flying colours. In truth, he’d barely managed it, but they didn’t need to know that.

But the most baffling thing was Potter’s reaction. He’d been ready to see the look of
disappointment on Potter’s face when he told him he’d passed, the disappointment that he wouldn’t
be able to rub this one in Ron’s nose. He’d been ready for it, but it hadn’t happened. Potter had
just smirked and said ‘well done’. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

But that just confirmed it. Ron would never – *ever* – understand one Harry Potter.

“The arrogant prick,” Ron muttered, rolling over in bed.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



7. Chapter Seven
----------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Thanks for the Reviews - you guys rock. They finally get on their way to
Hogwarts in this chapter (Finally! I hear you cheer), but as you’ll soon see, it’s not going to be
as easy as usual. Hope you all enjoy!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Seven
The first of September arrived and it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione, Draco,
Ginny and Ron had everything packed and ready the night before, so the usual morning bustle was
avoided. In fact, the morning had a kind of strange air to it, like it was the calm before the
storm. To say everyone was on edge was an understatement. Harry remembered the feeling; because it
was the same feeling he had had before Voldemort attacked Hogwarts.

Despite this, life went on, and Harry and the rest of the group of Hogwarts bound teenagers left
Grimmauld Place with an honour escort of Aurors (on Dumbledore’s orders) and members of the Order
of the Phoenix, including Sirius, Remus, Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. The streets around Grimmauld Place
were empty, with not even a gallivanting cat in sight. This only served to increase Harry’s
suspicions.

“Relax,” Hermione murmured from his side, taking his hand in her own, “I doubt anything will
happen, what with our honour guard and everything.”

“Yeah,” Draco said, from his other side, “not even Voldemort is stupid enough to attack you in
broad daylight and with all these Aurors and Order members around.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Harry said, but didn’t bother to elaborate. Hermione and Draco
shared a look, perfectly timed, but didn’t press him either. They both knew it would do no good.
Once Harry was set on something, there was not much you could do to change his mind.

They reached Kings Cross with no note worthy incidents, crossing through the invisible doorway
onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As customary, the train was waiting for them, but the
platform was strangely lifeless, continuing the ongoing theme. It seemed it wasn’t just Grimmauld
Place that was on edge, but the entire wizarding world in general - whereas before the platform
would have been a mass of noise, the entire place was quiet, almost dead.

Families exchanged goodbyes quietly and sedately, before the children boarded the train and
found a compartment. There was no excitement, as was usual from most of the students, just a sort
of thinly veiled terror at having to leave their families and return to Hogwarts. It was clear that
most no longer saw Hogwarts as a place of refuge, after Voldemort waltzed in last term.

Harry said goodbye to Sirius, Remus and Mrs. Weasley, before leading Hermione and Draco onto the
train. Ron and Ginny followed shortly after, quickly saying goodbye to their mother. They found an
empty compartment and entered. Harry placed both his and Hermione’s trunks overhead, whilst Draco
saw to his own. Ginny and Ron arrived then. Draco extended his hand to Ginny, offering to put her
trunk up for her. Ginny smiled a little and handed her trunk over.

“We have to go to the Prefects compartment,” Draco said, motioning to Hermione.

“Oh yeah,” Hermione said, giving Harry a sad smile. “Sorry, but we’ll be as quick as we
can.”

“Yeah,” Draco echoed her.

“Okay,” Harry said.

“Bye,” Hermione said, giving him a quick kiss before following Draco out.

The compartment fell silent, as Harry sat down and propped his feet up on the seat across from
him. Ginny took a seat beside Harry’s feet and looked at Harry for a moment, before transferring
her eyes to Ron, who was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Ron sighed, looking
around the compartment aimlessly.

“Ron,” Ginny said, impatiently. “Sit down.”

Ron looked at Harry, who was looking out the window. He shook his head minutely and turned to
Ginny.

“Nah,” he said, “I’m going to go find Seamus and Dean. Later.”

Ron left the compartment with a faint wave, closing the door behind him. Ginny sighed and looked
at Harry, who was still looking out the window. She laid her head back on the seat, looking at the
roof of the compartment, idling tapping her fingers on the seat cushion.

“Why don’t you go find your friends?” Harry said, breaking the silence. Ginny looked at him
again, but found he was still staring out the window.

“I’m okay here,” Ginny said. “Besides, I don’t want to leave you on your own, that’s not
fair.”

Harry laughed lightly. “Really,” he said, “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t
want too.”

“Actually,” Ginny said, “I want to be here.”

“How come?” Harry asked her.

“I don’t know,” Ginny said, shrugging. “I just…I guess I feel like I don’t belong out there,
with them, you know? They’re not in the middle of it, like us. The war I mean.”

“I see,” Harry said.

“Not that it doesn’t…mean anything to them,” Ginny said, pausing to come up with the right way
to word things. “The War still impacts them, but it’s different for us. They don’t have to fight
it, but we do.”

“You think you have to fight?” Harry asked, finally turning away from the window to look at
Ginny.

“Well,” Ginny paused in thought again, “I…my family is part of the Order. You Know Who killed my
father. He tried to kill me…twice…and he…tortured Draco. I think I have a right to be in this
fight.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, “but is that really what you want?”

“I don’t think want is the word,” Ginny said. “I think I need to be in this fight.”

Harry regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments, before nodding and looking out the window
again. He could see the fire in her eyes, the same fire he’d seen in Hermione’s eyes when he first
met her. Ginny needed to prove something to herself and she thought that the only way to do that
was to help fight Voldemort. Harry had no idea if that was really true or not, but he wouldn’t
stand in her way.

The two fell silent again. It wasn’t long before the train jerked into motion, slowly speeding
up and leaving the platform behind. Harry looked out the window, watching the scenery flash by. He
was soon brought out of his trance when the compartment door opened again. His hand was instantly
on his wand, his head turning to face the doorway.

“Thank Merlin,” Neville Longbottom said, entering the compartment, “I’ve been looking for you
for ages. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten to get on the train.”

“Hey Neville,” Harry said, easing his hand of his wand and relaxing.

“Hey Harry,” Neville returned, taking a seat next to Harry. He looked across and gave Ginny a
grin. “Hey Ginny.”

“Hi Neville,” Ginny said, giving him a return smile.

“Where’s Hermione?” Neville asked.

“Hermione and Draco are Head Boy and Girl,” Ginny answered, “so they had to go to the Prefects
compartment. Ron’s gone to find Seamus and Dean.”

“Ah,” Neville said, nodding.

“Congratulations on passing your Apparition test.” Ginny said, still smiling at Neville.

“Oh, no prob… I mean…thanks,” Neville blundered, blushing madly, “I wouldn’t have been able to
do it if it weren’t for Harry. He’s a great teacher.”

Harry looked at Ginny, who was smiling sweetly. He shook his head a little and went back to
looking out of the window. *Figures*, he thought, ruefully.

(----)

Ron had looked up and down the train at least four times before he eventually gave up. It looked
like Dean and Seamus hadn’t gotten on the train. He didn’t know the reason, but he suspected it was
something to do with You Know Who. Dean was muggle-born, so maybe when he told his parents what was
going on they decided not to let him return? He had no idea what Seamus was up to though…

Sighing, Ron sat down in the corridor, leaning against the wall and hooking his hands around his
knees. He didn’t fancy returning to the compartment and spending the entire train ride in an
uncomfortable silence with Potter, so he figured he’d just sit here. Closing his eyes, he let his
head loll forward.

“Ronald?” A dreamy voice he was very familiar with called, breaking into his (Not!) sulking.

Ron looked up, meeting the slightly protruding eyes of Luna Lovegood. She was standing above
him, holding a book to her chest, with her wand stuck firmly behind her ear. She gave him a quirky
smile, wordlessly asking him what he was doing.

“I’ve nowhere to sit,” he grunted.

She just continued to look at him, as if his explanation wasn’t good enough for her. He
sighed.

“I’m moping, okay?” Ron said, vaguely annoyed.

“Okay,” Luna said brightly, as if this was a good thing, before she set off and left him alone,
hugging his knees.

Ron shook his head, laughing weakly. “Mental,” he muttered, closing his eyes again and
attempting to fall asleep.

(----)

The storm hit almost half way during the journey to Hogwarts. Harry, Ginny and Neville sat in
their compartment. Harry was still staring out the window, watching the greenery pass him by in a
blur, only vaguely aware that Ginny and Neville where sharing a conversation, but about what he had
no clue. His eyes scanned outside the window, as if he expected something to suddenly attack the
train. He had no idea how right he was.

It started with a loud, echoing bang, like a sonic boom. Neville screwed his face up and covered
his ears with his hands, whilst Ginny screamed in shock and followed suit. Harry was on his feet in
an instant, wand out. He crossed to the doorway and peered out, but couldn’t see anything out of
the ordinary.

“Harry!” Neville said, getting his attention. “The train’s stopping!”

Neville was right. The train was indeed coming to a halt. Harry crossed the compartment and
looked out the window again, feeling the train jerking to a stop under his feet.

Harry stared out the window, watching as the green and brown blur become more distinct, finally
forming tree trunks and leaves. The train appeared to be stopping in the middle of a forest.

“Harry?” Ginny asked, her voice a high squeak. “What’s going on?”

“It’s happening,” he said.

“It?” Neville asked, looking confused.

“This is what he was waiting for,” Harry said. “He’s going to strike at us and do it right this
time. He’s trying to make up for his failure.”

“You Know Who?” Ginny gasped.

“Who else?” Harry said, grinding his teeth together in anger. “Come on, they’ll be here soon, if
not already.”

“Death Eaters?” Neville asked, but it really wasn’t necessary. He was just stating the
obvious.

Harry was back at the door, peering out. It was now filled to the brim with panicking students.
He turned to look at Neville and Ginny.

“I need your help,” he said.

“Anything,” Neville said, standing up.

“…” Ginny was staring at her hands, open and resting on her lap.

“Ginny?” Harry pressed. “Will you help me?”

“I…” Ginny gulped, blinking away her tears of fear, before looking up at Harry. She fisted her
hands and nodded.

“Okay,” Harry said, “I’m going to Apparate to Hogwarts and get help. I need you guys to get the
rest of the students of the train and into the woods. Find someplace to hide, okay?”

“Got it,” Neville said, nodding. Ginny copied him.

“Right,” Harry said, opening the door to the compartment. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Harry heard Neville say, before he felt the pressing sensation of Apparition
surrounding him, and he was gone.

(----)

“What the hell is going on?” The newly instated fifth year Gryffindor Prefect bellowed. He was
standing in the corridor outside the Prefects compartment, watching helplessly as all hell broke
loose.

“Hey,” Draco shouted, getting the younger boys attention, “get a hold of yourself idiot. You’re
a Prefect; it’s not your job to freak out. It’s your job to take charge and help.”

“Right,” the young Prefect gulped.

“Draco’s right,” Hermione said, getting the rest of the Prefect’s attention, “it’s our job to
keep order. Everyone, go down the train and make sure nobody panics. Draco and myself will go find
out what’s going on. The rest of you just make sure nothing bad happens here, okay?”

“Got it,” another Prefect said.

Draco and Hermione watched the Prefect’s file out of the compartment, before turning to look at
each other.

“It’s gotta be Voldemort,” Draco said, speaking first. “Nothing like this has ever happened
before.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed, “this must be what Harry was feeling.”

“Probably,” Draco said, shaking his head. “So what the hell *do* we do?”

“Let’s see what happened to the driver first,” Hermione said.

“Okay,” Draco said, following Hermione out of the tiny cabin and into the chaotic corridor. Just
as they where about to open the door that led to the front of the train, Ron came barging through
the crowd, eyes wide.

“Thank Merlin,” he panted, resting his hands on his knees. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Voldemort,” Hermione said. “At least, we think. Keep it quiet though, we don’t want anyone to
panic more than they already are. Do us a favour?”

“What?” Ron asked.

“Help the Prefects keep order, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” Ron said, looking over his shoulder at the chaos going on behind him.

The corridor was filled with students bawling their eyes out, screaming at the top of their
lungs, shoving each other in a vain attempt to get top safety, running from an unknown. Hermione
might have wanted to keep it quiet that Voldemort was probably attacking, but it looked like people
had already figured that out for themselves.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, giving him a kind smile. He nodded and went back the way he’d come,
pushing his way into the crowd and futilely shouting to try and get everyone’s attention. It was
like watching a pacifist try and convince everyone he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but with his fists.

Hermione sighed, before nodding at Draco and leading the way to the front of the train - the
front of the train, which was just as bad as the rest of the train. Hermione and Draco had to fight
their way through the throng of chaos. Halfway there, they heard an explosion, which only increased
the panic around them. Somebody dashed right into Hermione, pushing her out of the way. She hit her
hip against the side of the train and gasped in pain. Draco glared at the retreating back of the
aggressor, wanting to go and beat the crap out of him, but more worried about Hermione and the
current situation.

“You okay?” he asked, putting his body in the way of the chaos.

“Yeah,” Hermione wheezed, “I’ll be fine. Come on, let’s find out what that explosion was.”

“Okay,” Draco said, but took her arm to help her along. Anyone who came near them was pushed
away by Draco, who was intent on not letting anything bad happen to Hermione.

A scream from up ahead only served to increase their speed, especially when they heard the
frantic cries of ‘Death Eaters!’ resonating down the train to reach their ears. They reached the
end of the corridor, breaking through the crowd. Hermione leant against the side of the train to
get her breath back. Draco watched her for a moment, letting her rest up, before he placed his hand
on the door that separated them from the front of the train.

“Ready?” he asked, pulling his wand out.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied, pulling her own out.

Together they pushed the door open and stepped into the front section of the train. When he had
time to look back on it, Draco would distinctly remember, the first thing he felt when he entered
the front of the train was the feel of fingers under his feet. He looked down, not taking in
anything at first, but his vision soon became clear. A student lay motionless at his feet. He
pulled back, removing his foot from the dead girls fingers. He heard Hermione gasp and looked up to
survey the corridor.

The corridor was lined with at least six dead students. Draco could imagine it, the mad dash to
the door, running and pushing. The first few would have been picked off easily, but fellow students
mostly likely shoved the few in middle down, leaving them behind to be killed. He could see the
look on the face of the girl he’d trod on clearly, as she reached the door, hope flashing in her
eyes as she made it to the door. However, for whatever reason, she hadn’t made it quick enough.

Draco’s eyes travelled down the corridor to the three Death Eaters who stood at the very front
of the train, wands drawn, grinning faces hidden behind hollow skull masks. His hand clenched
around his wand.

“Well look who we have here,” one of the Death Eaters hissed, “Mr. Malfoy. I remember you. Come
to beg for forgiveness from your Lord again? Going to kiss his feet like you did last time?”

“More like I’m going to send him a message.” Draco said, eyes narrowed. Hermione was completely
still beside him.

“Oh?” the apparent leader of this particular squad of Death Eaters chuckled. “And what would
that message be?”

“Your motionless fucking body, that’s what!” Draco shouted, aiming his wand.

The Death Eaters wand was already raised, and at the same time, the two bellowed:

“*Stupefy!*”

“*Crucio!*”

(----)

**Piccolo999**



8. Chapter Eight
----------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Ah, I’m so sorry! It’s been waaay longer than ever before, I’m so sorry. I
just couldn’t find the time to write. You must all hate me by now, with that cliffy and the long
wait. So this chapter is uber short, because I wanted to get something out for you, just to tie you
over. I’m going to try and get another, longer one, out tomorrow. On the upside, I think this
chapter has a really nice, interesting bit in for you to enjoy. Thanks for the reviews and
enjoy!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Eight
With a muffled *crack*, Harry Potter appeared on the high street of Hogsmeade, the village
nearest to Hogwarts. As soon as he appeared, he burst into a sprint towards the school, nestled on
the hills above. He would have preferred to have his Firebolt with him, as it would have made
getting to Hogwarts considerably quicker, not to mention easier. Unfortunately, his broom was
stowed away on the Hogwarts Express, and not even his summoning spell would have gotten it here on
time. Instead, he put all his effort into running as fast as he could. It was times like these he
wished he’d put some effort into physical training, but like most wizards, he relied too much on
his magic.

Harry shot past the Three Broomsticks pub, but at the last second came to a screeching halt. He
turned to stare at the shop, noticing it was open, but like the rest of Hogsmeade it was strangely
quiet. The town never did seem to be very busy on September the 1st. However, the shop
was indeed open, and Harry was struck with inspiration. He ran into the shop, startling Madam
Rosmerta, who was casually cleaning the bar with a washcloth.

“No time to explain,” Harry panted, interrupted her before she could speak, “I need a broom,
quickly. It’s very important!”

“I…well…what?” Madam Rosmerta spluttered.

“Broom!” Harry shouted. Madam Rosmerta jumped in shock when a glass behind her exploded, turning
wide startled eyes to Harry. “Now!”

“…R-right,” Madam Rosmerta gasped, turning in shock and hurrying to the back room to retrieve
her broom. When she returned, Harry grabbed it, and without even a simple thanks, he dashed from
the room and shot into the air.

The wind whipped against his cheeks, stinging his flesh, he was going that fast. Hogwarts rushed
towards him at a much more satisfying rate, and before he knew it, Harry was touching down outside
the Castle doors. He tried to open them, but found them securely locked against him. Cursing
Hogwarts protective wards, he kicked at the gates and shouted as loud as he could.

“Come on,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair angrily. “Open!”

Nothing. It was useless. No one would hear him from down here, locked out from help. His mind
whirled, trying to come up with a suitable solution, but it was strangely blank. He raised his wand
and pointed it at the gates of Hogwarts.

“Reducto!” he roared, but the spell just bounced off a yellow shield that seemed to surround the
gates, before coming back on him. Harry ducked, thanking his Seeker reflexes, and the spell hit the
ground behind him, turning up rock and grass.

He stormed in front of the gates for what felt like an eternity, trying to come up with another
solution. Then it hit him – Grimmauld Place. Feeling like an idiot, he concentrated his mind on the
formerly dilapidated house, but before he could Apparate, a voice interrupted him.

“’Arry?” the distinct voice of Hagrid asked.

“Hagrid!” Harry gasped, relief flooding him.

“What - ” Hagrid went to ask, but Harry interrupted him.

“The Hogwarts Express is under attack,” Harry said. “You have to tell Dumbledore. Tell him to
get as many Aurors and Order members as he can. He’ll be able to find us by our magical energy, I’m
sure the place is just glowing with it. I can’t stay, I’ve got to get back and help. Got it
Hagrid?”

“Are you…?” Hagrid began, but at Harry’s almost glare, he stopped and nodded. “Righ’, I’ll tell
‘em, don’t worry.”

“Quickly!” Harry shouted, before disappearing with a *crack*.

(----)

“*Stupefy!*”

“*Crucio!*”

The two spells collided in the middle, creating a bright flare of red energy, blinding everyone.
Hermione grabbed Draco and pulled him down to the ground, just as two bright flashes of green
energy (the tell tale sign of the Killing curse) came rushing over them, exploding the door behind
them in a shower of wood. As the light show ended, Hermione raised her wand into the air:

“*Reducto*!” she shouted, pointing at the roof of the train over the Death Eaters. With a
cry of pain and shock, the three Death Eaters found themselves under a pile of broken wood. Dust
clouded the area, hiding them from view.

“*Stupefy!*” Draco shouted, aiming into the cloud of dust. “*Stupefy! Stupefy!*” He
cast the spell again and again, having no idea if he was connecting or not, but the more he cast,
the more likely it became. Hermione’s hand on his arm stopped him, as did her pleading eyes.

“Draco,” she said. “Stop. I think we got them.”

“Let’s find out,” Draco muttered, standing up from his kneeling position and walking towards the
settling dust. Hermione followed him.

She could see an arm, marked with the Dark Mark, sticking out of the rubble, immobile, loosely
gripping a wand. The rest of the Death Eaters seemed buried by the avalanche of wood and even
metal, as Hermione could now see. Her Reducto spell had done more damage than even she had
expected.

Draco knelt by the pile of rubble and removed the wand from the unconscious Death Eater. He
snapped it, tossing it aside idly. Hermione smiled a little as his thorough behaviour. As she went
to help him clear away the rest of the rubble, she was shocked when the mountain of wood and metal
moved, and even more shocked when the lead Death Eater emerged and slammed an equally surprised
Draco into the wall. The platinum haired teenager fell to the floor with a groan. The Death Eater
turned his attention to Hermione.

Hermione started to back up, staring in shock at the scared face of the Death Eater. The
avalanche had snapped his mask clean in half, revealing one side of his face, which was cut down
the cheek nastily, dripping crimson blood. He ripped the mask clean off, revealing his hard face
and black moustache. He grinned, the sight sending shivers down Hermiones spine. The Death Eater
raised his right hand and trailed his gloved fingers over the open wound, his smile quickly turning
into a snarl.

“You filthy Mudblood,” he snarled, “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” And he raised his wand.

“*Avada Kedavra!*”

Hermione gasped, her heart almost jumping right out of her chest, as the green light surrounded
the Death Eater, who’s shocked face was almost comical. Or at least, it would have been, in any
other situation. The Death Eater fell to the floor, face first, dead.

“Hermione,” Draco gasped, getting to his feet slowly, clutching the back of his head with one
hand and holding his wand in the other. He slumped towards her. “Hermione?”

Hermione could only stare at the motionless Death Eater.

“Hermione?” Draco repeated, stopping in front of her.

“You killed him,” she said, raising her head to stare at Draco.

Draco looked down, as if ashamed, but then looked back up at her with a hard stare.

“He was going to kill you,” Draco said. “Would you have preferred me to just let him?”

“You could have stunned him,” Hermione argued.

“He was trying to kill us Hermione,” Draco argued back, “this is war, you know. It’s kill or be
killed, right? Look, I wasn’t even thinking okay, it was just the first spell that came to mind. I
just saw what he was going to do and panicked, okay?”

“You panicked…” Hermione murmured.

“Right,” Draco said with a nod, “panicked. I saw he was going to hurt you and panicked. You have
any idea what Harry would do to me if I let something happen to you?” Draco chuckled dryly. “It
wouldn’t be good, let’s put it that way.”

Hermione nodded, looking back down at the Death Eater. She watched as Draco’s foot hooked itself
under the dead weight, and then with a heave, Draco rolled the wizard over. The blood covered,
moustache bearing, lifeless face looked up at her with glassy eyes. She turned away, disgusted,
feeling the urge to throw up.

“Macnair,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Walden Macnair. I knew I recognised that voice.”

“You know him?” Hermione asked, walking away from the sight.

“Yeah,” Draco said, following her. “He used to work for the Committee for the Disposal of
Dangerous Creatures and was a friend of my fathers. Never did like him. Trust me Hermione, I did
the world a favour - Walden Macnair is one of the worst, trust me. Guy has a serious blood lust. Or
rather, he had.”

“Let’s just get back to work,” Hermione said, not wanting to hear anymore about Walden
Macnair.

“Right,” Draco said, “so what now?”

“Let’s head back up the train,” Hermione said, “we have to get everyone off and into the woods.
Find someplace safe.”

Draco nodded and followed Hermione, leaving the dead body of Macnair behind.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



9. Chapter Nine
---------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Another small chapter. Sorry guys, but this chapter and the previous
chapter should have been one chapter, but because I wanted to get something up yesterday I ended up
splitting it into two. So here’s the second part. Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Nine
The Death Eaters flooded onto the Hogwarts Express, wreaking havoc and chaos. In the first five
minutes they injured many and killed some. Neville and Ginny quickly saw what was happening and did
their best to follow Harry’s orders. They gathered together as many people as they could from their
section of train and rushed them into the woods. They could only hope the rest of the student body
would be smart enough to take refuge in the dense trees surrounding the train.

As Ginny led their fellow students into the trees, Neville took up the rear, making sure nobody
got left behind. It was quite a hassle to get everyone moving in the first place, as most of the
student seemed to be first years, so Neville wanted to make sure they didn’t loose anyone along the
way. It certainly didn’t help that they seemed to be Muggleborn first years, who unfortunately had
no idea what was going on. It wasn’t exactly encouraging that their first experience in the
wizarding world was one in which they would almost certainly die.

“Come on Harry,” Neville muttered, casting a glance over his shoulder to see if they where being
followed. Luckily, they seemed to have got away without being noticed.

Neville turned his attention to his surroundings. High above him, the trees loomed, their
branches reaching out in a wide circumference, almost completely blocking out light. It certainly
wasn’t a comfort as they fled into the darkness, but it was their only option. Hopefully the dark
would inhibit the Death Eaters as much as it would them.

Neville almost walked straight into the back of a tiny student, most likely one of the first
years. He managed to stop himself at the last second, raising his head to stare over the heads of
the other students to see why they had stopped. He could just about make out Ginny in the darkness,
waving him over. He made his way through the throng and stopped by her side, whispering:

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s too dark,” Ginny whispered back. “Should we cast Lumos or something?”

“No,” Neville said, after a moments thought. “It’d give away our position. Way too risky.”

“Then what?” Ginny whispered, her voice taken over completely by panic. “I can hardly see a
thing, and I’m sure it’s not very comforting to the first years either.”

“Well we can’t exactly go back.” Neville said. “Unless you want to face a bunch of angry Death
Eaters.”

“Neville,” Ginny moaned. “You know I don’t.”

“I know,” Neville said, turning to look at the frightened faces of the first years. He sighed
and turned back to Ginny. “We have to go forward. I know it’s bad, but this is what Harry told us
to do. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m scared,” Ginny whispered.

“I know,” Neville repeated, bravely taking her hand and squeezing it. “But I promise you I won’t
let anything to happen to you. You trust me, don’t you?”

Ginny took a breath, her hair falling in front of her face for a second, before she brushed it
away and nodded. “I do.”

“Harry’ll get help,” Neville said, “so we just have to hold on. It’ll be okay.”

“Right,” Ginny replied, nodding again.

“Okay.” Neville looked around, trying to find some ideal place to hide, but the only thing he
could see was a group of trees leading into darkness. Sighing, he picked a direction, heading north
and away from the train. “We’ll go that way,” he said, turning to face the first years. “I know you
must be scared, but you’ll be okay, I promise. Everyone make sure to stick together, okay? Follow
me.”

Lots of terrified faces nodding at him, Neville turned and led Ginny into the darkness, the
first years trailing behind him. He was still holding her hand.

(----)

Harry arrived back at the train, his wand tightly gripped in his hand, ready to fight. The
entire area was strangely quiet, something which was become much more frequent around Harry lately.
It was the sound of Death. Harry first looked up the train, the woods stretching out before him,
and the train at his back. He could see nothing up, only a thin streak of smoke rising in the
distance, most likely from the front cabin.

When he turned to look down, his eyes where inevitably drawn into the sky, were the symbol of
Death hung. The Dark Mark shone above him, the skull and the snake, sending out its message:
*Lord Voldemort has been here - nobody will survive*.

Harry clutched his wand tighter and looked down the train proper, trying to ignore the glowing
spectre above him. The back end of the train was also quiet, but Harry could just about make out
flames coming from the far end, and just in his line of vision, the crumpled form of a Hogwarts
student. Harry ran over, dropping to his knees beside the motionless body. He turned it over,
revealing the face of a dead boy; his eyes open in a comically surprised way and staring up into
the sky at the Dark Mark. Harry could even hear the boy in his head, exclaiming in surprise.

“Oh dear,” the boy said, “I think I’m dead. What a shame.”

Harry closed the kid’s eyes, his mouth twisting into a snarl. Death was cruel.

He stood and left the boy behind, running down the side of train. A scream up ahead gave him an
extra burst of speed. He came to a stop outside the open door of one of the train compartments,
where the scream had come from. He entered silently, looking around the corner.

Two Death Eaters stood over three Hogwarts students, wands aimed. Harry didn’t have to think
twice before he entered the compartment fully and aimed his own wand. His eyes narrowed.

*Stupefy!* His nonverbal Stunner collided with the back of the Death Eater on the left,
sending the surprised wizard flying forward, over the heads of the (very surprised) Hogwarts
students and crashing into the wall head first. Needless to say, he was unconscious, if not
dead.

The second Death Eater whirled around, wand now aimed at Harry, mouth opening to cast his spell.
The Death Eater stopped at the last second, eyes behind the skull mark widening in pleased
surprise.

“Harry Potter,” the Death Eater chuckled, the voice unquestionably feminine, but cold and
cruel.

“How observant of you,” Harry replied, not taking his eye of the Death Eater for a second.

“I’m going to enjoy bringing your head to my Lord,” the female Death Eater gloated.

“Just shut up and cast a damn spell,” Harry said, “you’re boring me.”

The Death Eater laughed. “Confident, aren’t we? Let’s see what you can do then!
*Serpensortia!*”

A large snake erupted from the Death Eaters wand, slithering through the air and landing on the
floor. The Hogwarts students screamed in surprise and shock, cowering away behind the Death Eater.
The snake reared its head and gazed at Harry, before shooting forward.

“*Stop!*” Harry commanded in Parsletongue.

The snake stopped, it’s raised head wavering back and forth rhythmically. Harry quickly banished
the snake, sending it back to ether from whence it came.

“Marvellous,” the Death Eater cackled, “how marvellous. When I heard you were a Parslemouth, I
always wondered if it was true, but you are. However, that won’t save you. Let’s see what else the
great Harry Potter can do. *Crucio!*”

“*Protego!*” With a slash of his wand, Harry blocked the spell, the air seemingly crackling
with electricity before him.

“*Crucio!*”

Another Cruciatus Curse came hurtling his way, but with no time to cast another Shield Charm,
Harry ducked and rolled backwards, creating more room for himself.

“*Frango!*”

This time, the Death Eater went for the Breaking Curse, which would turn anything in its path
into ashes. Harry raised his wand into the air as the Breaking Curse came his way, it’s yellow
light almost blinding.

“*Avertio!*”

Harry brought down his wand with a harsh slash, moments before the Curse hit. The compartment
was filled with bright yellow light. The air before Harry seemed to pop like a balloon and then the
Curse was sent flying back at its caster at close to light speed. The female Death Eater didn’t
even have time to blink before the yellow light drilled right into her right shoulder. She screamed
as her shoulder was reduced to nothing but fragments of bone and flesh and blood, her arm falling
to the ground, no longer attached to her body.

“*Stupefy!*” Harry mercifully put the Death Eater out of her misery with a quick stunner,
sending her body sprawling back to the floor.

The Hogwarts students behind her, splattered with blood and bits of bone and flesh, finally
seemed to come back to themselves. They screamed as well, scurrying away and frantically brushing
bits of the Death Eater from their persons.

Harry approached the downed Death Eater, looking at her with an unreadable expression. Did he
regret taking her arm from her? Did he regret turning her own destructive spell back on her? The
answer was a resounding no. He just wished he didn’t have too.

Harry looked up at the three terrified Hogwarts students, who stared at him like he was a ghost
come to collect their souls.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to sound as friendly as he could.

“Y-yes sir,” one of them stuttered, obviously scared out of his life and under the impression
Harry was going to do him next.

“Calm down,” Harry said, “you’re safe now, I won’t hurt you.”

“Safe?” one of the others asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “safe. You should get into the wood and find a place to hide.”

“Right,” the first boy to speak said, getting to his feet quickly. The other two followed his
example, and before Harry could offer them more reassurance, they practically fled the
compartment.

Harry sighed, resigned to the fact that a new story about Harry Potter mercilessly taking a
Death Eaters arm would be soon spread about Hogwarts.

“Just perfect,” Harry muttered, moving past the two defeated Death Eaters and continuing his
travels down the train.

(----)

**Piccolo999**



10. Chapter Ten
---------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Okay everyone. Let me explain why I have been gone so long. My dad took
away my internet, so that's the main reason. I've been trying to get it back ever since,
but i'm not having much luck. I'm on my friend's PC at the moment, and i'm going to
try to upload chapters on here for the time being, but they might be few and far between. Sorry
everyone.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**

Chapter Ten

Voldemorts Death Eaters attacked various points of the train. They boarded at both ends, killing
some and injuring others, as the rest of the students fled. Unfortunately, most fled up the train,
rather than off and into the woods. In other words, they ran right into the Death Eaters trap. As
the students converged in the middle of the train, the Death Eaters struck in full force.

Ron Weasley was in the thick of it when all hell broke loose. As Hermione had instructed, he had
done his best to calm the growing panic, but one could only do so much. His efforts had fallen on
deaf ears.

The Death Eaters charged into the middle compartments from both ends, trapping the panicking
students. Killing Curses rained down on them, killing those on the edges, and ensnaring those in
the middle. Motionless students fell onto their fellows as life left them, only causing more
terror. Witches and wizards alike screamed in horror.

Ron was struck in the middle, shouting at the top of his lungs for people to listen to him, for
them to abandon the train and seek refuge in the forest surrounding the train. It was the only
other option, but the shock seemed to have struck everyone else dumb. Blind panic had locked its
hold on his classmates and would not let go.

“Ronald!” Someone screamed in his ear.

Ron turned as best he could, twisting his neck at an odd angle so he could see who was speaking
to him. The compartment was so crowed he could not move, and he wasn’t the only one. He spotted
Luna Lovegood, a sixth year from Ravenclaw, wedged uncomfortably against the compartment wall.

“Ronald!” she cried again, trying to get his attention.

“I heard you!” he yelled back.

“We need to get out of here!” she said, speaking loudly over the screaming of their schoolmates,
which echoed around them.

“Don’t need to tell me twice!” Ron argued, roughly forcing his way through the crowd.

“Do you have your wand?” Luna asked calmly, apparently not at all fazed by almost certain death.
“I lost mine.”

“Yeah,” Ron pulled out his wand, but couldn’t raise it past his waist he was so tightly wedged
into the crowd.

“Can you aim at the window?” Luna said, nodding her head to the large train window that she was
being forced against.

Ron tried, but it was futile. He continued to force his way through the crowd, finally reaching
Luna’s side. The crowd surged once in a huge jerk, forcing him forward and further crushing Luna
against the wall. He almost lost his grip on his wand, but managed to hold onto it at the last
second.

“Shit!” Ron hissed, uncomfortably close to Luna now. She grinned at him, a wide, terrified
parting of her mouth. “Sorry,” he said, feeling her breasts heaving against his chest as he forced
out a breath. “You’re hands free,” he pointed out, “maybe you can do it. If you can get at my wand,
that is.”

“I’ll try,” she said, her breath hot against his face.

Ron closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. He was all too aware of her ample curves against his
body, despite the situation. Luna Lovegood wasn’t an overly attractive girl, but she wasn’t exactly
ugly either. At least, not in Ron’s book.

*Get a grip you pervert*, he thought, *this is Loony Lovegood your thinking about - she’s
crazy! Besides, it’s so not the time to be thinking about girls, especially nutty ones*.

“Can you move your hand at all?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He opened his eyes, finding her flushed face inches from his own. He gulped down a breath and
tried to move his hand, which was pressed awkwardly between their two bodies. He felt the top of
his hand touch the underside of her breasts and stopped, meeting her eyes. She nodded, urging him
on. He shuffled his hand again, forcing it up in little notches. His hand was now caught between
her two generous mounds. He looked her in the eyes again, noticing her face was a giant blotch of
red, much like his own.

“Quickly,” she pressed.

Before he could continue, a shout arose above all the terror induced screaming.

“It’s the Order!”

Ron turned his head sharply, bumping heads with Luna, who let out a startled cry of pain. He
ignored the heavy throb coming from his own head and peered over the top of the crowd, grateful for
his considerable height. He could see the Death Eaters turning their backs of the students and
engaging in battle with several blurry figures in the far background. Ron felt a smile bloom on his
face.

“It’s the Order!” he cried, echoing the Death Eaters shout.

“The Order?” Luna asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “in other words, we’re saved.”

“Really?” Hope rose in Luna, clearly heard through her voice.

“Really,” Ron said, “but best we get out of here anyway. Come on.”

Ron wiggled his hand, and as the crowd slackened and turned to see what had distracted the Death
Eaters, Ron was able to raise his hand above the crowd. He pointed his wand at the window.

“Duck,” he told Luna, using his other free hand to pull her away from the window, into his
chest. “*Reducto!*”

The window shattered in a hail of glass, which thankfully fell mostly outside the train
compartment, with only a few shards landing inside. The crowd screamed anew, shocked by Ron’s
sudden spell. They turned to find out what was going on, quickly calming when they realised it was
only a fellow student.

“Everyone!” Ron yelled, turning to face the crowd. “Keep calm! We have to get off this train,
but if you all rush, all it’s going to do is slow us down! We need to climb out of the window one
at a time. I’ll go first and help down those that fellow. Also, anyone with a wand should break the
windows nearest to them so we can get more out, faster!”

Ron let go of Luna, who stepped away as he cleared away a few more shards of glass that had
clung to the frame. Then he stepped onto the sill and looked down, out of the train. It was a
slight drop, but it wouldn’t be a problem. He could hear glass being smashed all around him as
other students broke the windows nearest to them, overlaid with the battle going on between the
Order and the Death Eaters. Ron dropped and landed neatly. He turned and looked up at the window,
unsurprised to see Luna balancing between the frames. She looked uneasy, so he stepped closer and
held his hands up.

“I’ll catch you,” he said.

She nodded, took a deep breath, and then fell. He caught her and set her on her feet. She looked
up at him with relief on her face, which was still a little flushed. For the first time he noticed
that she wasn’t wearing her usual horn rimmed glasses, and he was momentarily stunned by her
beautiful and soft pale eyes staring back at him. Then, before he could even react, she had pressed
a quick kiss to his lips and pulled back, moving away as if his lips had been acid. He was so
stunned he was almost crushed under the next student to drop from the window.

(----)

In the next compartment, Harry found two more dead students. Harry didn’t recognise them, but he
doubted he would have been able to even if he knew them. Their small faces where fixed in rigours
of terror, twisted hideously by what looked like agonizing pain. Judging by their rather lack of
size, he figured they where either first or second years. Harry knelt by them for a moment, feeling
his anger building.

The sliding door at the end of the compartment opened, the sound echoing in Harry’s ear, and he
was up in a flash, wand drawn, aimed at…

“Draco?” Harry said, his eyes widening just a fraction.

Draco had his own wand pointed at Harry, but his face showed a relief that Harry returned. The
two best friends stared at each other for a second, wands still aimed, before they dropped.
Hermione appeared at Draco’s shoulder and her own eyes widened.

“Harry!” she cried, shoving past Draco, who fell to the side with an ungainly yelp. She ran full
pelt into Harry’s arms, which wrapped possessively and protectively around her.

“Hermione.” Harry murmured in her ear, kissing her affectionately. He hadn’t really been all
that worried about her, after all, there was no one he trusted more than Draco, but it was still
wonderful to see her alive and well - to feel her.

“Don’t mind me,” Draco said, sarcastic as always. “Feel free to shag each other senseless.”

“Shut up Draco,” Hermione shot back, remarkable cheerful, given the situation. Harry figured she
was as relieved to see him, as he was to see her.

“Yeah,” Harry said, grinning at his friend over her shoulder. It was like the three of them had
entered some sort of twilight zone, away from Voldemort and all their worries. “Just because you
don’t get to fuck anything but your hand.”

“Harry! Don’t be so crude!” Hermione scolded, her cheeks reddening. She dropped her eyes to the
floor to cover her embarrassment, but then her eyes widened and the twilight zone vanished.

Hermione stared at the dead body by her feet, her mouth slightly open and her eyes tearing
up.

“Oh God,” she gasped, turning her head away. Harry tightened his hold on her, meeting Draco’s
eyes over her head.

“Come on,” Draco said, walking forward and joining Harry as he steered Hermione away from the
dead boys. “Let’s get out of here.”

“It’s just so horrible,” Hermione said, her voice taken over by grief and sadness.

“I know sweetie,” Harry said, kissing the top of her head, “that’s why I’m going to stop
him.”

(----)

The forest grew denser and darker as Neville and Ginny led the first years further into it’s
realm. No one uttered a single sound. The only sounds were the crunching of leaves and twigs
underfoot as they made their way even deeper into the darkness. Other than their own footfalls, the
woods remained eerily quiet, as if someone had cast a Silencing Charm over the whole area. Not even
a bird twittered.

“Neville,” Ginny whispered from his left, where she followed him, still clutching his hand. “I
think I heard something.”

“It’s nothing,” Neville said, distracted. He was staring into the gloom, trying to find a
clearer and safer path.

“I’m not hearing things,” Ginny argued. “I definitely heard something.”

“It’s just your nerves playing tricks on you,” Neville reasoned.

Ginny didn’t argue back, but swept her head around, peering into the darkness to find whatever
it was she kept hearing. She couldn’t hear it now, but she was positive she had before. It was hard
to make it out through her own footsteps, but she was sure she had heard another set, coming from
her left. The first years followed behind her and Neville, so it wasn’t them she was hearing.

There! Ginny strained her ears, certain she had heard a distinct snapping of twigs from her
left. She scrutinised the darkness, looking for even a faint trace of something, anything that
would alert her to whoever was tracking them. A different shade of darkness perhaps, or whispering
voices, anything that would give them fair warning.

“Ginny,” Neville said in her ear, but she quickly shushed him. “What?” he whispered.

“I heard something,” she shot back, then, “be quiet!”

She said it with such vehemence that Neville closed his mouth, his protests dying before he
could voice them.

“There’s something,” Ginny spoke softly, “I’m sure of it. Just listen.”

Neville raised a hand to the rising murmur of questions coming from the first years, effectively
silencing them, and then did as instructed, and listened. At first he couldn’t hear anything, save
for a slight swaying and rustling coming from the branches overhead, which was hardly audible at
all. Then, faintly, he heard the snap of a twig. He focused more intently and heard another.
Someone was definitely out there.

“Death Eaters?” Ginny asked softly.

“Probably,” Neville said, running a hand through his hair. “Get behind me, behind the tree.”

He manoeuvred her as he spoke, gesturing to the tree. Ginny didn’t argue, pressing herself close
to the bark and lowering herself into a crouch. Neville motioned for the first years to do the
same, telling them to get down and stay down. They followed his instructions as he pressed his back
against the bark and dropped into a crouch as well, wand out and aimed into the darkness.

Peering around the tree, his wand ready, he waited. The sounds grew heavier. Whoever it was,
they were closing in on them. Neville gulped, taking a quick look for any decent places to hide. He
doubted he’d be able to hold off more than a few Death Eaters for very long. The best he could hope
for was to give Ginny enough time to escape with the first years.

Then the rustle of long hanging branches reached his ears, and he turned his head to stare back
into the darkness, from which a shape was emerging. It was shrouded in darkness still, but roughly
man shaped, and judging by the protruding rod, definitely holding a wand.

He had no idea what to do. If he attacked know, he’d probably be able to take out at least a few
of them before they got him. That would give Ginny enough time to escape as well. It was probably
his best option, but he didn’t relish it. He didn’t want to leave her alone, for one thing.

Before he could muse on this any further, another shape appeared at the side of the first, this
one definitely a woman. She wasn’t wearing a robe, which, if Neville had thought about a bit more,
might have led him to the conclusion that these two figures where not Death Eaters, who most
certainly always wore hooded cloaks.

However, before he could think on it any further, Ginny let out a gasp at his side and rushed
forward. He tried uselessly to stop her, but she was gone before he could even blink. He watched as
she ran forward and met the two figures, who welcomed her with…open arms? Frowning, Neville stood
and took a few cautious steps forward; so as to get a better look at their pursuers. He immediately
recognised the first figure.

“P-Professor Lupin?” Neville stuttered with surprise etched across his face.

Ginny was currently locked in a fierce hug with the other figure, a woman he did not recognise,
but judging by the embrace, Ginny was very familiar with her. She was short and had a heart shaped
face and spiky pink hair.

“Good evening Longbottom,” Professor Lupin called, getting his attention again.

“Not so good,” Neville said, feeling a grin forming on his face, “but definitely getting better.
I am so glad to see you.”

Neville turned to the first years, who still crouched silently, most of them wearing expressions
of puzzlement, rather like the one that had been on Neville’s face only a few moments before. He
gestured them over.

“Did Harry contact you?” Neville asked, turning back to face Lupin.

“No,” Professor Lupin answered, “he Apparated to Hogwarts and informed Hagrid, who in turn
informed Dumbledore. Albus then contacted us and we set off straight away. Is anyone hurt?”

“No,” Neville answered, “we got away pretty quickly. Harry knew what was going on right away, so
we had a slight advantage over them. When Ginny and myself found these first years, we figured we’d
best get them to safety as fast possible, so we ran into these woods.”

“So what now?” Ginny asked, as she and the other witch appeared at their sides.

“Dumbledore sent the rest of the Order to the train,” the witch answered, “so they should be
fighting off the Death Eaters as we speak.”

“He’s also gone to the Ministry of Magic,” Lupin added, “to get a squad of Aurors.”

“Dumbledore and the Aurors will probably be arriving any minute now,” the mystery woman
finished, “and when they do, I think the rest of the Death Eaters will run. Then, we should see a
signal, and head back to the train.”

“So we wait?” Neville asked.

“We wait.” Lupin agreed.

(----)

The battle between the Death Eaters and the Order was in full force when Harry, Hermione and
Draco arrived. Harry entered the compartment first, keeping close to the wall. The trio had heard
the fight long before they reached the compartment, so Harry was prepared. He scanned the area
quickly.

Closest to him was the Order, who crouched shielded between the doors of the train’s
compartments, popping out every now and then to fire spells back at the Death Eaters, who had
congregated at the other end of the section of train. Harry spotted Sirius at the front. Kingsley
Shacklebolt and Mad Eye Moody crouched by Sirius, taking pot shots as well.

Harry turned back to face Draco and Hermione. “I doubt we’ll be able to do much good from here,”
he said. “It’s just too risky.”

“So what do we do?” Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Sit on our asses and whistle a jaunty
tune?”

“Funny,” Harry replied, deadpan. “No, I think I have an idea. If we get off the train, we can
pass by this section and get into the other. Take them by surprise from behind.”

Hermione nodded.

“Fair enough,” Draco agreed.

Harry, Draco and Hermione left the Hogwarts Express, sneaking as stealthily as possible down the
side of train, past the fight going on inside, and then entered the next section. It was empty, and
strangely enough, all the windows had been smashed.

“What’s with the windows?” Draco muttered, frowning.

“Never mind that,” Harry said.

He peered through the sliding door at the end of the section, watching as the Death Eaters
continued to fling curse after curse at the Order. They remained completely ignorant of the
metaphorical knife that was about to stab them in the back. Harry raised his wand.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” Draco and Hermione chorused.

But it wasn’t meant to be. At that very moment, just before Harry was going to fling open the
sliding door and charge in, several muffled *cracks* erupted behind them. Harry turned just in
time to see Dumbledore and a squad of Aurors appear.

Dumbledore strode through the sea of red Aurors robes to join Harry side. He didn’t seem at all
surprised to see Harry as he set his bony old hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed.

“This is not your fight,” was all he said, before he moved on.

Dumbledore and the Aurors attacked swiftly. When the Death Eaters saw Dumbledore, they fled as
quickly as Tonks had predicated. The fight lasted less than two minutes. In that time, several
Death Eaters fell to stunners and disarming spells, but most of them managed to escape. They had no
desire to test themselves against Dumbledore.

(----)

Piccolo999



11. Chapter Eleven
------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Eleven

The Death Eaters fled into the night, vanishing in various degrees of muted *cracks*. The
Hogwarts Express was left silent and broken. Harry stepped into the section of train that had only
moments before been a battlefield of flying curses. Draco and Hermione followed shortly after
him.

The place was a mess: broken windows, glass and splintered wood littering the floor, blackened
gauges from missed curses lining the walls. Not to mention the motionless bodies of four downed
Death Eaters and a few Hogwarts students. It was like stepping into a long abandoned building. A
thin cloud of dust floated in the air, unable to settle. Harry could taste it, bitter and chalk on
his tongue. He could also sense the vibrations of magical energy thrumming in the compartment,
almost too much to bear, left over from the battle.

Dumbledore approached him, bits of wood crunching underfoot. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said, and then glancing back at Hermione and Draco, he amended, “we’re
fine.”

“That is good news,” Dumbledore said. His blue eyes scanned the compartment mournfully, resting
on the Hogwarts students, before he turned back to face the Aurors and Order members. “Dawson,
Trill - bind these Death Eaters and arrange for transport to Azkaban.” Dumbledore gave Harry
another brief look, before moving away and issuing more orders.

Sirius took his place, grabbing Harry in a quick bear like hug before pulling away.

“Trouble does seem to follow you around, doesn’t it,” Sirius said, stating a fact more than
asking a question.

Harry shrugged, more than used to it.

“I’m glad your safe,” Sirius said, shifting his eyes to Hermione to make sure she knew she was
included in that sentiment as well. She smiled a sad smile at him appreciatively, but it was
nowhere near her usual beam.

“Where’s Remus?” Harry asked, looking over Sirius shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of his
father’s friend.

“He and Tonks Apparated into the woods around the train,” Sirius answered. “Dumbledore felt some
magical energy coming from there, so we thought it best to send some people in.”

“Right,” Harry replied. “That’ll probably be Ginny and Neville he sensed. I told them to find as
many students as possible and then run into the woods for safety.”

“The train is emptier than it should be,” Draco observed. “Everyone else probably had the same
idea.”

“Quite right Draco,” Dumbledore agreed. “I’ve sent Aurors into the woods to retrieve the rest of
the surviving students and arranged for Portkeys to be created to transport you all to
Hogwarts.”

“Sir,” Harry said, getting Dumbledores attention, “you should check the rest of the train as
well. I took out a few Death Eaters before I found Draco and Hermione.”

“Ah yes,” Dumbledore said, “I’ve already sent Gibb and Alastor to do just that. Now, in the
meantime, I think it best if we get you off this train and allow the Aurors space to do their jobs.
Sirius, I trust you’ll accompany them?”

“Of course,” Sirius said, nodding his head.

Harry would have objected, but one look at Hermione and he shut his mouth. She was a lot paler
than he liked and he was only now realising that she had been strangely quiet since she had seen
those dead boys. As he put his arm around her and led her out of the train wordlessly, she seemed
to crumple into him for support. Sirius and Draco followed.

Harry found a nice clean spot by the side of the train that wasn’t littered with glass and sat
her down. She gave in weakly, lolling her head onto his shoulder when he joined her. Tightening his
hold on her, Harry looked up at Draco and Sirius.

“This is what he wanted,” Harry said, getting right to the point. “It wasn’t about the Death
Eaters winning or losing. He’s sent his message to the entire wizarding world and there isn’t a
damn thing we can do about it.”

“I don’t get it,” Draco said.

“Don’t you?” Harry laughed bitterly. “Do you think this isn’t going to be all over Daily Prophet
tomorrow? Not likely. Voldemort has broken past Hogwarts defences and now he’s attacked the
Hogwarts Express. Every parent is going to know this. Voldemort is attacking the heart of the
wizarding world, and it’s only the beginning. If people had doubts after last year, this will have
crushed them for good. He’s back and things are only going to get worse.”

If anybody had any arguments to Harry’s statement, they didn’t voice them.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the surviving Hogwarts students began to appear, trickling out
of the forest in small groups. Harry, Hermione, and Draco watched from their seated positions as
their classmates made their way slowly, cautiously, towards the train. Dumbledore has summoned
forth a piece of parchment with the names of all Hogwarts students attending this year, so that as
each group arrived, their names where checked off the list as accounted for.

Neville and Ginny emerged from the forest last, Remus and Tonks trailing behind them with the
group of first years, looking haggard, but otherwise whole. They checked their names off the list
and then, spotting Harry, made their way over to them.

“Harry!” Neville greeted, relieved. He spotted Hermione practically curled around Harry and
frowned with worry. “Hermione? You okay?”

“She’ll be okay,” Harry said, answering for her. “It’s been a long, hard day.”

“Tell me about it,” Neville replied. “I’m exhausted. Erm,” Neville voiced changed abruptly,
returning to its usual meekness. “Do you know if…you know…anyone…died?”

“I’m not sure who,” Harry replied, “but yeah.”

Neville cursed softly under his breath and looked down at the ground, suddenly dejected. A
silence descended, only to be broken when Draco got to his feet. He’d been staring at Neville and
Ginny’s joint hands with barely concealed anger and jealousy.

“Ginny,” he said, catching her eyes. He took a breath, searching for the right words. It used to
be easy to talk to her, but now, he always had to worry about saying the wrong thing. Finally, with
a sigh, he settled on a simple: “I’m glad your okay.”

Ginny nodded, her mouth curving in a slight smile. Draco nodded back, but couldn’t stop his
traitorous eyes from shifting to her hand. Suddenly realising she was still holding Neville’s hand;
she snatched it back abruptly and lowered her head to the ground, unknowingly mimicking Draco.
Neville looked at them, shocked out of his own musing, his eyes unable to hide his hurt.

Harry sighed, but was saved having to interrupt his friend’s dramatics when Ron appeared.

“Ginny!” he shouted, breaking into a run. Ginny had barely time to look up before she was
engulfed in a hug that would have made Mrs. Weasley proud.

“Ugh,” Ginny grunted, surprised, then, “Ron, please. I can’t breathe.”

“Oh,” Ron pulled back, as if suddenly realising where he was and what he had been doing -
abashed. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Ginny turned her eyes back to Draco, but he had already moved away from her and was in the
process of sitting back down besides Hermione. She sighed softly and looked back at Ron.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I’m glad you’re alright too.”

The group fell once more into silence, each unsure of how exactly to proceed. Harry was too busy
coddling Hermione to pay any more attention to the rest of the group. Draco was glaring down at his
feet, silently wishing bodily harm upon Neville Longbottom, who in turn was returning the
sentiment, although with a lot less force. As for Ginny, the object of their strife, she was trying
to figure out just why her life had to be this complicated. A Bludger in the middle of a field of
Golden Snitch’s, Ron just felt uncomfortable.

Harry caught sight of an unfamiliar face talking urgently with Dumbledore. The face belonged to
man with wild tawny hair, which was streaked with grey, and wearing dark red Auror robes.

Frowning, Harry turned to Neville and said, “look after Hermione for a sec, will you?”

“Sure,” Neville said.

“What’s up Harry?” Draco asked.

But Harry didn’t hear him; he was already striding away towards Dumbledore and the wizard in the
Auror robes. As he approached, he heard the wizard speaking in rough tones.

“…this is just completely unacceptable, how am I supposed to convince the general wizarding
community that we – the Ministry of Magic - have everything under control when their children are
constantly under attack. First Hogwarts and now the Hogwarts Express. You must know that there will
be no way for this to be covered up, it’s already too widespread.”

“And what do you expect me to do Rufus?” Dumbledore questioned calmly.

“Well, I…” But Rufus stopped, having caught sight of Harry stepping up besides Dumbledore. His
eyes flicked up towards Harry’s scar, then narrowed suspiciously. “So you’re Harry Potter.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, not liking the wizards tone, “I am. That a problem?”

“Harry,” Dumbledore admonished, “this is the new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.”

“I see,” Harry said, appraising the aged wizard. “Well, at least he looks more competent than
that idiot Fudge.”

Rufus’s eyes flashed angrily, but Dumbledore spoke before he could. “Did you want something
Harry?”

“No, not really.” Harry turned and walked slowly away, lingering long enough to listen to the
next few lines of conversation.

“You ought to watch that one Dumbledore,” Scrimgeour warned, “I can smell Dark wizards from a
mile away, and that Harry Potter stinks.”

“’That Harry Potter’ is the one who informed me about the attack on the Hogwarts Express,”
Dumbledore returned mildly, “if it were not for Harry, I’m sure we would have a lot more casualties
on hand.”

“I don’t trust anyone who can converse with snakes.” Rufus argued, as if that settled it.

Harry didn’t hear what Dumbledore replied to that, he was too far away. He rejoined the group,
sitting down next to Hermione again, wrapping an arm around her, when Alastor Moody appeared,
clutching a mouldy old log.

“Alright everyone,” he said, “listen up. This is your Portkey. It’ll take you straight to the
gates of Hogwarts, where Hagrid will be waiting to let you in. Got it?”

Everyone nodded their assent and gathered around the old log, placing a finger upon the
crumbling bark.

“Hang on.” Moody said, then Harry felt the familiar tug behind the navel, and he was swirling
through the air, between Neville and Hermione, before his feet finally hit the ground outside
Hogwarts.

“’Arry!” Hagrid boomed his greeting, clapping Harry hard on the shoulder. “’Am glad yer safe, I
was righ’ worried, I was.”

“Thanks Hagrid.” Harry said, giving the half-giant a rare smile.

“Jus’ head on up t’ Hogwarts,” Hagrid went on, “you know the way. Got ter wait ‘ere for nex’
lot.”

“Right,” Harry said, then clapped Hagrid on the arm, stretching his arm to do so, before leading
the group up to the castle.

Ron had already gone on ahead, but Neville, Draco and Ginny remained by his side. Hermione was
still curled up in his embrace, walking slowly. She looked up at him, smiling weakly.

“Sorry Harry,” she said, “I just keep on letting you down, don’t I? It was those boys, they
where just so young and…innocent. What did they do to deserve that?”

“What are you talking about,” Harry said, shaking his head, “letting me down? Don’t be
ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Draco added, as they reached the large oak doors that led to the Entrance Hall, “you
where amazing against those Death Eaters earlier. That Reducto was incredibly powerful, I mean, you
blew right through the wood panelling and straight through the steel.”

“…I guess,” Hermione said, “but I…”

“Forget it Hermione,” Harry said, interrupting her, “from what I hear, you did great. So what if
you feel a little bit faint afterwards, that only means you’re human.”

“I suppose.”

The group of five passed through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, which was a lot less
crowded than it usually was at the start of year feast. It was also eerily quiet, like a funeral.
The Slytherin table was the most packed, which wasn’t exactly a big surprise to any of the
five.

Harry and Draco cast their eyes over their house table, seeing looks of open hostility on quite
a few faces. Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore Nott, their three remaining roommates, glared openly at
them. Harry noticed Heather Pritchard, an annoying harpy of a girl that had a huge crush on him,
and Pansy Parkinson, an equally annoying girl who had a huge crush on Draco, sitting five seats
away from the crowd, as if trying to distance themselves from the rest of the table. Heather gave
him a big smile and a wave, but Pansy quickly grabbed her hand and pulled it down before any of the
other Slytherin’s noticed. She proceeded to talk sharply and swiftly in low tones that Harry
couldn’t hear, but by the look on Heather’s face it was clear Pansy was admonishing her.

“You know what,” Draco said, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “I really don’t fancy
sitting at that table.”

“I don’t blame you,” Hermione said, “you look as welcome as a Gryffindor would be.”

“Why don’t you come and sit with us Harry?” Neville asked.

“Is that even allowed?” Ginny asked. “Don’t we have to sit at our house table?”

“I think so,” Harry agreed. “Don’t worry about me or Draco, we can take care of ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Draco echoed, “besides, it’s not as if they can do anything out here in the open. Not
that I’m afraid of them trying anything, if they did, I’d just wipe the floor with all of ‘em.”

“Don’t start trouble you two,” Hermione warned, pointing an accusing finger at the two
Slytherins. She seemed to have recovered some of her fire.

“Me?” Draco mock gasped. “Start trouble? You wound me, Hermione.”

With that, Draco dropped a wink, then headed straight for the Slytherin table, head held
defiantly high. Harry watched him go, shaking his head at Draco’s theatrics. Then he turned back to
the others.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I’ll see you guys later. Neville.” He nodded his head at the chubby
teen. “Ginny.” Another nod.

“Later Harry.” Neville waved.

“Bye,” said Ginny.

“Hermione,” Harry took a firmer hold on her hand, lent in close, speaking low, “wait for me in
the Entrance Hall, after the feast. Okay?”

“…Okay,” Hermione acquiesced, looking at Harry inquisitively.

But Harry gave her no explanation, only kissed her chastely on the lips, and then headed over to
join Draco at the hostile Slytherin table.

Draco, it seemed, had decided to sit himself down in the gap between the rest of the Slytherins
and Pansy and Heather. Harry joined him, sitting between Draco and a burly looking fifth-year. He
cast his eyes down the table. Theodore Nott, a tall, thin, regal looking wizard with sleek black
hair and a thin moustache, gave him a haughty sneer. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered idiotically behind
him. Harry gave them a little smile.

“Oh, how I would just love for them to show their true colours,” Draco muttered beside him. “I’d
soon show them who they’re messing with.”

“We can’t do anything Draco,” Harry said, “you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Draco agreed, fiddling with his wand in the pocket of his robes. “It’s just so
damn maddening. We know they’re pretty much Death Eaters. They’re in virtually the same boat as I
was. Parents are Death Eaters, so that as good as makes them Death Eaters. Except, we can’t do
anything about it because we have no proof. Annoying, right?”

“Very.”

Harry looked away from Nott, back up the table towards Pansy and Heather. Pansy had her head
bowed over, as if trying to hide from the world. Heather looked up just as Harry glanced her way,
locking eyes with her startlingly blue eyes. She gave him a quick smile, obviously heeding Pansy
advice, then looked away.

“Looks like the harpy still fancies you,” observed Draco.

“So it seems.”

It took almost a full hour before all of the remaining Hogwarts students arrived via Portkey.
They trundled into the Great Hall in groups ranging from six to eight, taking seats at their house
tables and talking quietly to each other. Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts Professors
arrived, taking their usual seats at the staff table. Harry ran his eyes over them.

Examining the staff table, he found that two of them where unfamiliar to him. At the end of the
long table was a short, stiff looking wizard who had a rather pompous face. He was sitting in
Professor Vector’s old seat, so Harry figured he was the new Arithmancy teacher.

The other wizard had to be their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was extremely
tall, had long white hair that rivalled even Dumbledore’s, thick white eyebrows and an outrageously
long thin beard that seemed to be loosely wrapped at least five times around his neck, and still
dangled almost halfway down the wizards chest. He wore light blue robes in a style Harry had never
seen before, open at the neck, revealing a vast amount of aged chest hair. One other thing was
glaringly obvious about the old wizard – he was, without a doubt, Oriental.

Before Harry could ponder this any further, the double doors of the Great Hall opened again, and
Professor McGonagall appeared, leading a long line of first-years. They lined up along the staff
table, looking terrified. Professor McGonagall placed the four-legged stool and Sorting Hat down,
and then stood back.

However, instead of reading of the names of the new students - so that they could be sorted –
she turned and looked at Dumbledore, who stood up.

“It has been a very long, tiring day,” Dumbledore said, looking down at every student, “and I am
sure you all are very much looking forward to curling up in your nice warm beds and going to sleep.
I would ask you only to give me your full attention for a short while, then to allow the
first-years to be sorted, and then you may do as you please.

“Firstly, I must remind you all that we are currently living in trying times. Lord Voldemort has
indeed returned. His attack on the Hogwarts Express could not have been expected. I have said this
before, but it bears being repeated. Lord Voldemort’s gift for spreading discord and enmity is very
great. His attack on the Hogwarts Express was his first attempt at creating that discord. How you
react to it - that is up to you. You must remain strong and true in the face of Voldemort and his
Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort is attempting to create fear amongst you, but that fear is all in your
head. I must impress upon you this fact - you have nothing to fear as long as you are within these
walls.

“We have two new staff members with us this year. I would like to introduce your new Arithmancy
teacher, Professor Gridlock,” Dumbledore gestured to the stiff wizard, who nodded his head ever so
slightly, “and of course, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who we are very lucky to
have with us, Professor Oniki.” Dumbledore swept his other arm over to the Oriental wizard on his
right.

“Well, that should do it, Professor McGonagall, proceed with the Sorting.”

And Dumbledore sat back down.

“Ackerly, Amanda!” Professor McGonagall shouted, and the Sorting began.



12. Chapter Twelve
------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**

Chapter Twelve

The students of Hogwarts poured from the Great Hall, into the Entrance Hall, as a giant mass of
bodies. Hermione was amongst them, being jostled about by rushing shoulders and nearly tripped
several times by impatient first years. It seemed the drive to get to bed and put this horrible day
behind was overriding everyone’s sense of courtesy.

Hermione felt her hand seized by unknown fingers and turned to find Ginny pulling her towards a
gap in the throng. Hermione shook her head, wordlessly telling Ginny to go on ahead, that she was
staying here. Ginny looked confused.

‘Come on,’ she mouthed.

‘I’m staying,’ Hermione mouthed back, then elaborated, ‘waiting for Harry.’

Ginny leant in closer, evidently not comprehending her mouthed words. Hermione spoke into the
girls offered ear. ‘I’m waiting for Harry,’ she repeated.

Ginny pulled back, realisation dawning. ‘Okay,’ she said, then gave a little wave and pushed her
way through the closing gap, reaching a waiting Neville on the other side. Then the crowd closed in
and they disappeared.

Hermione made her way to the closest wall, just right of the double doors that led to the Great
Hall. Here she was free of the jostling students, who continued to pile out of the large hall in
groups of four. She craned her neck to try and spot Harry amidst the crowd, but it was fruitless.
Instead, she decided to wait it out, hoping that Harry hadn’t forgotten about his whispered message
to meet here after the welcoming feast. She didn’t think he would have.

Finally, the crowd thinned enough for her to venture forth and look around for any sign of her
boyfriend. So far, no luck. She spotted Luna Lovegood trailing away absently. Pansy Parkinson and
her friend Heather Pritchard gossiped by the entrance to the dungeons. But Harry was nowhere to be
seen.

Surely, he hadn’t forgot?

He hadn’t.

A tap on her shoulder startled her, and she turned to glare at thin air. She narrowed her eyes.
‘Harry!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t do that! At least make a little noise, so I know you’re coming!
Honestly!’

She heard him chuckle some. ‘You sound like Draco,’ his disembodied voice came from behind her,
and she whirled around, finding thin air again. Her eyes narrowed further. ‘Did I ever tell you how
cute you are when you’re angry?’

‘I can’t believe you’re playing around at a time like this,’ she said, glaring at where she
thought he was standing.

‘Is she talking to herself?’ she heard Pansy Parkinson scoff with disgust. ‘Freak.’

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Heather said, ‘she might be contagious.’

The giggling Slytherin’s disappeared down the stairs to the dungeons.

Hermione turned her back on the two Slytherin girls, feeling her face burn with embarrassment,
then hissed out of the side of her mouth. ‘Take off that cloak, I look like a crazy person, talking
to myself.’

‘Come on, then,’ Harry said, his voice coming from in front of her, and the she felt the cloak
fall over her head, and Harry’s face appeared before her, so close she could feel his breath on her
face. It was far from unpleasant. He grabbed her hand and began leading her out of the Entrance
Hall, into the Slytherin dungeons.

Silence fell between them as they walked. The sound of their shoes clapping on the stone of the
dungeon floor was the only sound, and it seemed to echo in her ears like an accusing devil, a
testament to the uncomfortable moment. Just why was Harry acting so cavalier, when only a few hours
previous, the Hogwarts Express was attacked, and a small portion of their fellow students had died,
courtesy of the unforgivable Killing Curse.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, finally breaking the growing silence, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. That
was the last thing I was after. It’s just… seeing your face, when you saw those boys, and how
silent you became… I didn’t like it. I just wanted to make you feel better. Acting like nothing was
wrong was probably a pretty stupid way to do it, but I’ve never been very good at the emotional
stuff, have I?’

Hermione couldn’t help herself; she smiled, but only a little. Harry was right. He’d never been
very good at the emotion stuff, but the intent was there, and that counted. ‘It’s okay,’ she
replied. ‘Thanks for trying.’

‘You can always count on me to try,’ Harry said, turning to face her under the cloak, the little
light casting most of his face in shadow, but she could just about discern the little quirk to his
lips. ‘Just don’t expect me to succeed that much, right?’

‘Right Harry,’ Hermione agreed.

‘I will make him pay,’ Harry said, ‘that I guarantee - for everyone who has lost someone to him
and his prejudiced quest for Pureblood dominion.’

‘But that won’t bring them back, will it?’ Hermione said. ‘It won’t erase what he did.’

‘We’re wizards, Hermione,’ Harry said, ‘not Gods.’

‘Someone should tell Voldemort that,’ Hermione argued, a little lightly, but with an
undercurrent of real hatred.

‘I’ll do better,’ Harry said, letting his own anger colour his voice, ‘I’ll show him.’

The Head Boy of Hogwarts found himself standing outside the portrait that led to the private
quarters of the Head Boy and Girl, not far from the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor of the
castle. The portrait was of a witch with long, sinister raven coloured hair and a face covered with
dark black veins. The witch was cleverly named Willow the Veined.

‘Password?’

‘Portkey.’ Draco answered half-heartedly.

‘Aren’t you a cheerful fellow,’ Willow the Veined shot back sarcastically, as the portrait
opened, revealing the entrance to the joint common room. Draco entered, his eyes surveying the
space for the first time.

It wasn’t as large as the Slytherin common room, but the ceiling was definitely higher, giving
the room an open atmosphere of comfort. Two wing-backed chairs surrounded the fireplace, which
burned softly, emitting a small ring of light. A small table was placed strategically between the
two chairs, a large enough space for one person to work at. At the back of the room, flanked by two
oak doors, was a large table, with two smaller wooden chairs at either side. The room was decorated
with neutral colours.

Draco walked further into the room, flicking his wand idly at the number of lamps along the
walls. They lit with a burst of flame. He approached the back of the room, where the two doors
stood flanking the table. A plaque was nailed to each door, one reading “Head Boy”, the other “Head
Girl”. Draco attempted to enter the one on the right; the door marked “Head Boy”. The handle
wouldn’t turn.

‘Huh?’ Draco frowned, pulling on the knob, futilely.

‘Draco Malfoy,’ the door said, speaking from some unknown orifice, ‘hand recognition complete -
please choose a password.’

‘Right,’ Draco muttered, then, clearly, ‘redemption.’

‘Password chosen,’ the door replied, ‘please confirm.’

‘Redemption,’ Draco repeated.

‘Password set. If you wish to change your password, simply place your hand upon the door handle
and verbalize your request.’

‘Right, just open, will you?’

‘Password?’

Draco sighed. ‘Redemption!’

The door finally gave in, and Draco turned the handle and entered. He closed the door behind him
and surveyed his private bedchambers. The room was roughly rectangular shaped. The far wall held a
stained glass window, through which light leaked into the room in multi-coloured bursts. His
four-poster bed was positioned to the left of the window, locked against the wall. Another table
was right beside the door, square shaped. A single, comfy looking chair was propped against the
wall and his trunk had been placed at the bottom of his bed by those eager little house elves.
Another door, right across from his bed, led into a small white tiled bathroom, which contained a
toilet, sink, a small cabinet and a shower.

But, most importantly, the chamber was decorated in his favourite colours – the Slytherin
colours of green and silver.

Draco sat down heavily on his bed, tired and somewhat angry, though with what, specifically, he
could not tell you. Maybe it was at having the first day back at Hogwarts ruined by his father and
his father’s cohorts? Or maybe it was because he felt like a trapped snake, stuck in the cross
hairs of a dangerous predator and it’s cubs, unable to truly escape, only cower like a weakling in
his little den? Then again, it could be that he was just lonely, isolated from all he’d ever known
- his family, his friends, his housemates, who, no doubt, regarded him as a betrayer and an idiot.
Not that he really cared what they thought anymore. It’s just, he was no longer Draco Malfoy, now
he was just Draco. Draco, disowned by his parents, abandoned by everyone he had regarded as, if not
friends, then as colleagues, for the last six years. Then add the fact that he was probably near
the top of a very dangerous list entitled “people Voldemort wants dead”. He’d given up everything
in his life to be this person, this Draco. Not Draco Malfoy, he was no longer a Malfoy, he was just
simply Draco.

Of course, that wasn’t exactly accurate. He still had one thing. Harry, his best friend, the
reason Draco had given up everything else. But that was it. He couldn’t call Hermione a true
friend, though they did get along well enough. And his relationship with Ginny, another large
factor in Draco’s estrangement from all he once knew, was not exactly on stable ground. In fact, he
was pretty sure the relationship had no ground. They where floating in some weird air like limbo,
not friends, not lovers, not really anything - at least not anything solid, just a whole lot of
confusing emotions and regrets.

And that was it, wasn’t it? The real reason Draco was angry. Ginny Wesley, a girl he wouldn’t
have even looked at this time last year, and who now refused to leave his tortured mind alone.
Visions of her golden hair, shinning eyes, gleaming teeth, her entire visage, floating teasingly in
his mind - reminding him of what he had so stupidly thrown away. Then the real sledgehammer
arrived, the image of Ginny holding the hand of that incompetent loser, Neville Longbottom.

Draco kicked his shoes from his feet, violently throwing them across the room. He led back on
the bed, clenching fistfuls of bed sheet, gnashing his teeth in anger and, most importantly, hurt.
He knew he didn’t deserve to have Ginny’s love. He had thrown that away last year, and pissed all
over it in the process, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. He still loved her, more than
he’d ever loved anything… anyone. He didn’t just want her. He needed her. And Neville Longbottom
wanted to steal her from him before he could even make his case, could even begin to beg for her
forgiveness. He wouldn’t let it happen.

He was going to put up a fight.

And if he couldn’t have her, then he’d damn sure make certain that Neville Longbottom didn’t get
her.

Draco eventually fell asleep, curling into himself, his knees drawn up to his chest like a small
child, dreaming dreams of pain, of Ginny breaking his heart like he’d broken hers - Ginny being
swept into the arms of Neville and sharing a passionate kiss - Ginny trashing his name to Hermione
– Ginny convincing Harry that Draco was never going to amount to anything.

‘Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.’

A lone, silent tear left a track down Draco’s cheek, wetting his pillow with unspoken grief.

Deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts, in the long lost Chamber of Salazar Slytherin, Harry and
Hermione sat, huddled together on the musty green sofa. Harry idled stroked Hermione’s hair as she
dozed at his side, her head resting on his chest.

The Chamber was Harry’s place of solitude, a part of Hogwarts that existed only for him, and of
course, those he choose to reveal it too. Hermione was one. Draco was the other. His two most
trusted confidants. The Chamber was Salazar Slytherin’s personal quarters, and was only accessible
by Parsletongue, the gift of snake language that ran only in Slytherin’s line. The only reason
Harry could speak it was because of his unnatural, mysterious connection with the Dark Lord
Voldemort, the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

Harry had never had reason to think well of Voldemort, but he was at least somewhat thankful for
the Chamber, and for his ability to speak Parsletongue, which he was sure would prove invaluable
during his final year at Hogwarts. After all, he was most definitely not going to sleep in his
Slytherin dorm room, where any number of wands could blow him to bits while he slept. So yeah, he
was grateful for his place of solitude, and the gift Voldemort had given him that allowed him to
access it. Of course, his gratitude was damped considerably by the fact that he wouldn’t even need
the Chamber if Voldemort and his followers didn’t want him and his friend’s dead.

‘Harry?’ Hermione murmured.

‘Yeah Hermione,’ Harry said, ‘what is it?’

‘I… this is… I mean, I don’t know if this is appropriate… after what happened, and everything,
but…’

‘Hermione,’ Harry said, ‘spit it out.’

‘Iwantyoutomakelovetome.’ Hermione said, really quickly, so that it all ran together.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, unable to suppress a smile of amusement, ‘could you say that again, a
little slower.’

‘Harry,’ Hermione repeated, turning her head and looking up at him with tearful eyes, ‘make love
to me.’

‘Uh…’ Harry sounded, suddenly completely serious.

‘You think I’m awful now, don’t you?’ Hermione said, before he could form a coherent reply. ‘I
know, Harry. It’s terrible to want to… after what happened, but I just… I need it. Oh God, it
sounds so horrible, like it matters what I want, after what…’

‘Hermione,’ Harry interrupted her rambling, silencing her effectively, ‘it’s totally
understandable. You saw something horrible today, something that’s ingrained itself into your mind.
Death. It’s logical to want to have sex, something that is solely about life, something that will
make you feel alive.’

‘But it’s…’

‘It’s not.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Harry said, ‘come on.’

Harry stood up and offered her his hand. Hermione grasped it after only a moment’s pause; Harry
pulled her to her feet, and then led her over to the door to the bedroom. He kicked the door shut
behind him, continued forward, leading Hermione towards the large, king-sized bed of green and
silver. Hermione sat down tentatively, and Harry eased her backwards, laying her down on the cool
sheets. He kissed her softly, feeling the wet tears on her cheeks. He kissed them away, moving one
hand down her side, the other cupping her face softly. He stared into her chocolate brown eyes
lovingly.

‘Harry,’ Hermione whispered breathlessly.

Harry sat up on his knees, and Hermione followed him, their eyes never leaving the others.
Hermione pulled her robe up and over her head, tossing it to the side - Harry copied her with his
own. They resumed kissing, and Harry eased his hand down to her jeans, deftly working the buttons
loose. During a break in the action, Hermione removed Harry’s shirt, leaving him bare-chested. She
proceeded to kiss him everywhere, his neck, his chest, and his nipples. Harry closed his eyes with
delight, grasping Hermione’s waist with one hand, whilst simultaneously slipping the other up her
blouse.

After some more kissing, Harry relieved Hermione of her blouse, popping the buttons and pulling
it free of her shoulders, baring her bra covered breasts. He kissed them as lovingly as he could,
easing Hermione back down onto the sheets, moving slowly towards her belly button. At the same
time, he pulled at her jeans and knickers, and with Hermione’s help, glided her legs free. Harry
stood and removed his own jeans and boxers as Hermione shuffled up the bed, resting her head on the
pillows. He joined her, holding her close as they resumed.

‘I love you,’ Hermione sighed as he entered her, closing her eyes as more tears slipped out.
Harry kissed her eyelids, moving into her slowly.

‘Hermione.’

She opened her eyes, staring up at him. Harry kissed her with everything he had. She smiled up
at him.

‘I know, Harry,’ Hermione murmured, reached up to kiss him back.



13. Chapter Thirteen
--------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Here’s the next chapter. Like I said last time, I’m going to do my best to
get these out as quick as I can, but don’t expect really fast updates. On the plus side, they’ll
probably be longer chapters than I normally do, which I know some of you have requested. Things
really start to get going in this chapter, or the end of it, anyway. Hope you all like. Thanks for
being patient with me (not like you really had a choice, though, huh? Lol). Stay cool.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**

Chapter Thirteen

The first day back at Hogwarts began slowly, as students of all years sluggishly dragged
themselves from bed and down to the Great Hall. Nobody wanted to talk about the events of
yesterday, but neither did they look forward to the day to come. The hall was hushed as everyone
sat at their house table and ate breakfast.

Draco woke alone in his room. He sat up slowly, looking down at his damp pillow. His lip
curling, he grabbed the offending item and tossed it across the room. When he stood before his
bathroom mirror, he found his eyes were ringed red and worn looking. He rubbed at them hastily, and
then splashed water on his face.

When he left his personal chambers, Draco found that the door to the Head Girl quarters was
open. He stood in the entranceway and looked in. Hermione was busy pulling her robe up over her
head and didn’t notice him standing there. He averted his eyes quickly and cleared his throat
loudly. Hermione gave a muffled squeak and yanked her robe down.

‘Draco? You almost scared the life out of me.’

‘Sorry,’ Draco said, glancing at her undisturbed bed. He smiled crookedly. ‘So, how did you like
our new quarters? Comfy, huh?’

Hermione looked at the bed, then back at Draco, blushing faintly. ‘Harry asked me to join him,’
she defended.

‘Yeah.’

Silence fell between them. Draco turned his back to Hermione and went to leave, but her hand on
his arm stopped him. He didn’t look back as she spoke softly.

‘You look terrible, are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ Draco said, rather stiffly. ‘We best get going, if you want to get something to eat
before lessons start.’

‘… Right.’

Hermione followed Draco to the Great Hall. They walked in silence, which was echoed by the rest
of the students they passed. It was like a funeral like disposition had settled over Hogwarts and
its grounds.

Hermione cast her eyes towards Draco as they walked side by side. He did look terrible. His eyes
seemed hollow and great dark bands ringed them. It looked almost as if he hadn’t gotten one single
wink of sleep at all last night, but he seemed rested enough. He moved as fluidly as ever, never
once dragging his feet like an exhausted person might. He must have slept, but Hermione figured it
wasn’t the sleep of a content man, but one tormented by his demons. She could easily guess what
bothered him.

As they entered the Great Hall, they passed a band of lingering Slytherin students. Theodore
Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle stood out in the pack, glaring at them nastily. Draco
stopped at the entrance and turned to return the look. Hermione placed her hand on his
shoulder.

‘Come on Draco,’ she eased, tightening her grip, lest he attempt to break free and pummel the
smug Slytherins. ‘It’s not worth it, come on.’

Theodore Nott fingering something within his robes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out
what.

‘I’d blow you to smithereens before you could even twitch a finger Nott,’ Draco boasted
roughly.

‘Draco, leave it,’ Hermione pleaded, but he seemed not even to hear her, let alone feel her
insistent hand tugging at his shoulder.

‘Go ahead traitor.’ Nott spoke quietly, but his rich voice carried well.

‘Is there a problem here boys?’

Nott startled slightly and turned to look over his shoulder. Professor Oniki strode past him and
into the Great Hall. His simple robe billowed around him, his long beard stretching proudly down
his front. He had his hands clasped behind his back, but still managed to give off an aura of
power. He turned his slightly slanted eyes to regard Draco, then cocked his head, and shifted his
eyes to Theodore Nott.

‘Mmm?’

‘No, sir,’ Nott finally said, bowing politely and quickly striding away. Crabbe and Goyle
followed him.

‘Thank you sir,’ Hermione said gratefully.

Professor Oniki regarded her silently for a moment, then inclined his head ever so slightly, and
stepped past them. Hermione watched him go before turning to face Draco again. He hadn’t moved a
muscle, but Hermione could tell that he was seething. She touched him gently on the shoulder.

‘Come on Draco,’ she said, ‘why don’t you sit with us today? Harry’s already there, see, he’s
sitting with Neville.’

It was the wrong thing to say. Draco stiffened even more, then shucked her hand off, and turned
his icy stare on her. She stepped back sharply, unconsciously shying away from an attack. But he
only stared at her, and then glanced over at the Slytherin table, before turning on his heel and
walking away. She watched him leave the Great Hall sadly.

‘What was all that about?’ Neville asked when Hermione sat down across from him, next to
Harry.

‘I… don’t really know,’ she confessed. ‘It was like he was looking for a fight or something, but
when Professor Oniki turned up, his opportunity was taken away. I tried to calm him down, but he
just…’

‘Draco can be intense sometimes,’ Harry offered. ‘He’ll be fine. He just needs some alone
time.’

‘Or a calming drought,’ Neville put in smilingly. ‘Guy always seems to be on the verge of a
breakdown, if you ask me.’

‘He has a lot to deal with,’ Harry defended his friend.

‘Don’t we all.’



Their first lesson back was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Oniki. Harry, Hermione
and Neville made their way there together after having a quick breakfast. Draco was waiting outside
the classroom, leaning beside the door and staring somewhat moodily at the opposite wall. Harry
clapped him on the shoulder and joined him.

‘You hungry?’ Hermione asked, offering him some toast she had saved.

Draco took it gratefully and began wolfing down, with only a cursory nod of thanks at Hermione.
She frowned to herself.

‘The Professor not here yet?’ Neville asked.

Draco looked at him coolly. ‘What do you think?’

Harry bumped shoulders with Draco, conveying a silent admonition. ‘He was still in the Great
Hall when we left.’

A slightly uncomfortable silence settled on the motley gang of students. Hermione took Harry’s
hand discreetly as she leaned against him to wait for the Professor. When he finally arrived, it
was with a sedate walk down the corridor. He gave of an air of tranquillity as he passed by the
students and opened the door to usher them into the classroom. As he made his way to the front,
Harry, Hermione, Draco and Neville took seats near the back. Ron passed them as he entered and sat
nearer the front. He cast only one small glance at them, locking eyes with Harry momentarily.

‘Welcome,’ Professor Oniki greeted them with a bow of his head, ‘my name is Keita Oniki and I
will be your Defence Against the Darts Arts instructor this year. I am aware that your prior
lessons in this subject have been very fragmented. It will be my job to educate you in all that you
will need to receive a passing mark. For your first lesson, I will be teaching you about the very
source of your magic, which I feel is gravely ignored in western wizardry. You may be able to use
magic without this knowledge, but the fine understanding of how it works, and why you can use it,
is very important. I think it a large oversight that you remain ignorant of this knowledge.

‘So, let me begin with a question. Have any of you ever wondered what the difference is between
you and the Muggles who live alongside you? Why can you perform magic, when they remain unaware of
it?’

‘It’s blood, isn’t it?’ A Slytherin spoke up. He sat with Theodore Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. ‘We
have magic running in our veins. That’s what makes us better.’

‘Ah,’ Professor Oniki held up a long, crooked finger, ‘then why does magic pop up in Muggle
families.’

Silence held for a few moments as everyone contemplated this.

‘The truth is, blood has nothing to do with it. Magic exists all around is, pure and powerful,
flowing through the air. The Muggles of my own country sometimes refer to it as Ki, an energy
source that exist within oneself. Some can even use this to perform feats of impressive strength or
skill. Breaking a thick wooden log with a single thrust of the palm, for instance. They no idea
what they really channel, but the concept is there, all the same. Magic flows in and out of us with
every breath. It is our very life force.’

‘Then what is the difference between us and Muggles, sir?’ Hermione asked, raising her hand into
the air. Oniki nodded to her.

‘The difference, Miss Granger, is simple. We have the ability to access the magic. That is all.
Something exist within us that allows us to, how shall I put this. Ah, siphon the magic that flows
around us and use it. That is the difference. The reason you perform accidental magic when you are
younger is simply because your siphon is untrained, like a tap that has no handle to regulate the
flow of water. You simply learn how to access the siphon and control it as you age. By now, you
should all have complete control of your siphon.’

‘Then why do we needs wands to use magic?’

‘You don’t. Your wand only helps you to amplify magic and steer it in the course you wish it to
travel. If you truly tried, magic without a wand is possible, though to those untrained in the art
it can be very dangerous. A demonstration?’ Professor Oniki waved his hand and an empty chair rose
into the air, hovered for a few moments, and then clattered to the floor.

‘How do you learn how to do that?’ Draco asked.

‘With great effort and time,’ Professor Oniki answered. ‘I have been training myself since I was
a young boy and I still have not mastered the art.’

‘Sir?’ Harry raised a hand to get the Professors attention.

‘Yes Mister Potter?’

‘You said that only children produce accidental magic, right? The “siphon” becomes more under
your control as you age, right?’

‘That is correct,’ Professor Oniki confirmed.

Harry sat back in his chair, brow furrowed. Another student raised his hand to ask a question,
but Harry wasn’t listening. Hermione noticed his furrowed brow and gently took his hand under the
table.

‘Harry? Are you all right?’ she whispered.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Harry answered distractedly.

Hermione continued to regard him with curiosity, but Harry was too engrossed in his own
thoughts. If accidental magic was supposed to ebb as you aged, then why did Harry still produce it?
He remembered Snape trying to probe into his mind and how he had been flung across a corridor when
Harry raised his mental shields. Only yesterday, when he had ordered Madam Rosmerta to hand him a
broom, one of her glasses had exploded with his shout. But how? His siphon should be under control
by now, shouldn’t it? He had a lot to think about.



After much deliberation, Ron decided to track down Luna and ask her about the kiss she planted
on him during the attack on the train. She was a lot harder to find than one would expect. First he
asked around at the Ravenclaw table, but nobody seemed to know, or care, where she was. Next he
tried all the places she was likely to be. She was a Ravenclaw, and was supposed to be smart, so he
checked the library, but it was to no avail. After wandering and almost getting lost in the stacks,
he gave it up, and tried to think of where else she might be. Perhaps she was sending a letter to
her father. But the Owlry was a dead end as well. Sighing in frustration, he slumped against the
wall of the Owlry and stared out at the lake below him. She was probably in the Ravenclaw common
room.

Or not…

Ron squinted at the vague figure standing at the edge of the lake. He thought, just for moment,
yes! It was Luna! Ron jumped down the stairs three at a time, ran through the corridors of Hogwarts
Castle, and out through the double doors. It was getting late, but there was enough daylight left
to illuminate the grounds faintly. He jogged to where he knew Luna to be. She was standing in the
exact same place, barefoot so that the water lapped around her ankles, throwing huge chunks of
bread out into the depths of the lake. He approached slowly, watching her with a raised eyebrow.
What the hell was she doing?

He cleared his throat to let her know he was there, but she made no reply, not even turning her
head to regard him. She ripped a chunk of bread from a large loaf under her arm and tossed it into
the water, smiling serenely as she did it. In the faint light, she was almost beautiful. Wait a
second, beautiful? Where had that thought come from?

Shaking his head, Ron tried again. ‘Erm, Luna?’

‘Yes Ronald?’

So she wasn’t deaf, just ignorant. Fair enough.

‘Erm, what are you doing?’ In light of her odd behaviour, he’d forgotten all about his reason
for seeking her out.

‘Feeding the squid.’ She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in world.

‘Feeding… the squid… okay.’ Ron felt like scratching his head in confusion. ‘Can I ask… dare I
ask… why?’

‘He’s hungry,’ Luna answered.

‘And the squid has a craving for soggy bread?’ Ron couldn’t help himself. It was just so
bizarre. ‘Or maybe he’d prefer a meat and potato pie.’

Luna turned to him with a wide smile. ‘Do you think so?’

Ron stared at her, unblinking. Was she mocking him? Or was she serious?

‘I… don’t know…’ It was almost a question.

Luna shrugged slightly and went back to throwing bread into the water. No, wait, feeding the
squid. Ron stood silently, watching her, trying to remember why he was even out here talking to the
strange girl. Then he remembered - THE KISS (that was how he referred to it in his head, capital
letters and all).

‘Luna?’

‘Yes Ronald?’

‘I… I…’ Damn, this was going to be tough.

‘Something is wrong with your eye?’ Luna finished for him, trying to be helpful.

‘What? No,’ Ron said, shaking his head, a grin flashing across his face, ‘my eye is fine.’ The
levity of the situation seemed to ease his nervousness. He forged on boldly. ‘I wanted to ask you…
why did you kiss me? You know, on the train.’

‘Oh.’ Luna went back to staring out across the lake. Her dirty blonde hair blew around her head.
She pushed it behind her ear and Ron was sure he glimpsed a faint blush on her face. Finally, Luna
answered, ‘I just… didn’t want to die… without ever having done it.’

Her tone was so serious he was left speechless. She turned and smiled at him, somewhat sadly,
then handed him the loaf of bread and left him. She called back only one thing: ‘Don’t forget to
feed the squid.’



It was the end of the first full day back at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and Draco sat around the
Heads common room. Draco was ensconced in one of the wing-backed chairs, whilst Harry and Hermione
shared the other. The fire burned softly, flickering light across their faces.

‘It was a good class, I thought,’ Hermione commented. ‘Better than most Defence lesson we’ve
had, I’d say. I actually learnt something about magic that I didn’t know, which, with all modesty,
is quite amazing. What about you guys? Did you know about the source of magic?’

‘I sure didn’t,’ Draco muttered. He’d been in a bad mood all day, and showed no sign of dragging
himself out of it.

‘Harry?’ Hermione pressed, after a long moment of silence.

‘Huh? Sorry?’ Harry had been staring intently into the flames. Now he turned his head slightly
to look down at his girlfriend, who sat huddled in his lap, her head resting against his chest.

‘I said, did you know about the source of magic? What Professor Oniki was teaching us about,
remember?’

‘Of course I remember,’ Harry said, puzzled. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Don’t think I didn’t notice, you seemed distracted for the entire lesson.’

‘I was paying attention,’ Harry affirmed.

‘So?’

‘No, I didn’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘It seems a large oversight to me.’

‘I agree,’ Hermione replied. ‘It answers so many questions that I hadn’t even considered asking
myself. I guess I just figured, you know, it was a big mystery or something. Seems kind of silly
now, though. It should be taught to every student who attends Hogwarts and every other wizarding
school, for that matter. It’d help put an end to all this pureblood nonsense, I think. Don’t you
agree?’

But Harry had gone back to staring into the flames. She frowned at him and glanced over at
Draco. He stared moodily out at nothing. She sighed.

‘Am I just talking to myself tonight?’



Draco lay in darkness, staring up at the ceiling of his dormitory. Hermione had left with Harry
around an hour ago, to spend the night once again in Slytherin’s Secret Chamber. He wanted to curse
at them both for having the nerve to fling their perfect relationship in his face, but he couldn’t
get the words out. It wasn’t them he was angry at.

It was himself.

The reason? Because he could have had a perfect relationship as well, only he had screwed it up.
Okay, so maybe he and Ginny might not have had a perfect relationship, but at least it would have
been a relationship, instead of this confounding flux.

Every time he laid eyes on her, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. To kiss
her and tell her that he loved her and yeah, don’t forget show her that he loved her. Instead, all
he could do was stare at her wordlessly, too afraid to voice his feelings. What would she say to
him if he had the nerve to tell her he was sorry? That he would never let anyone harm her again,
including himself. He didn’t know.

It was that uncertainty that prevented him from approaching her.

But every second he wasted, it was another second that Neville Longbottom could use to worm his
way into Ginny’s heart. Sometimes he thought that that might be just. Maybe Neville deserved to
have Ginny. Draco stomped those thoughts viciously down into his subconscious. He would not let
those traitorous feelings prevent him from making Ginny see how sorry he was. He wouldn’t let them
conquer him and stop him from getting her back.

Yet even so, with every wasted second he was letting them do just that. He needed to overcome
his fears and doubts and take a chance. He’d been trying to muster the courage to approach Ginny
all day, but his heart refused to heed his head, too afraid of being broken.

As he lay in bed, Draco resolved not to let tomorrow be the same.



Deep inside Hogwarts, locked safely in Slytherin’s Chamber, Hermione slowly came awake. The cool
silk sheets of Harry’s luxurious bed had fallen halfway to the floor sometime during the night, but
the half that should have been Harry’s was wrapped snugly around her. She blinked her eyes a couple
of times to wake up more and then rolled over, raising a hand to rub at her eyes. Her hair was in
even worse disarray than it normally was, but she was used to that. She smiled up at Harry.

He was sitting with his back against the headboard, locked in deep thought. Again. He’d been
preoccupied since Professor Oniki’s Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson the previous day. She had
asked him about it, but he avoided the question, insisting that nothing was troubling him. She knew
him better than that, and because she did, she wouldn’t press him. He would tell her when he was
ready. Still, it was rather annoying, so she gave him a sharp poke in the side. He startled and
looked down at her accusingly.

‘What’d you do that for?’

‘Just felt like it.’ She grinned at him cheekily and stuck out her tongue.

He shook his head at her antics and shuffled down to lie beside her, his arm coming down over
her chest. He pulled her closer and kissed her. She savoured the moment blissfully, melting into
him. When he pulled back, she snuggled into him, using his chest as a pillow.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah?’

‘If I ask you what’s wrong, will you tell me this time, instead of deny it?’ Hermione
ventured.

‘You know me too well,’ Harry said with a small sigh. ‘Okay. You want to know what’s been on my
mind?’

‘I really do.’

‘Then I’ll tell you,’ Harry said. ‘Remember what Professor Oniki was telling us? About his
“siphon” and how it grows more controlled with age, resulting in less and less accidental magic,
until it’s completely under control?’

‘Yeah, what about it?’ Hermione asked with curiosity.

‘Well, to put it simply’ Harry stalled a little, then went on, ‘I still produce accidental
magic.’

‘Oh.’

‘That’s it? Oh? You don’t think that a little odd, Hermione? Professor Oniki said that our
siphons should be under control by now, but mine isn’t. Don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous to be
wandering around with a… well… a leaking tap? Magic can burst from me at any moment. When Snape
tried to probe my mind with Legilimency, I blasted him right across a corridor and nearly cracked
his skull open. That could happen to anyone, without my control. I feel like I have this enormous
weapon, but I can’t wield it properly. What if I try to use it and end up hurting someone I care
about?’

‘I didn’t mean it that way, Harry.’ Hermione hastily assured him, sitting up and giving him a
beseeching look. ‘I was just surprised, that’s all. You really produce accidental magic?’ Off his
hard stare, she continued. ‘Erm, well, it’s not…’

‘Don’t try to tell me it’s not that bad,’ Harry warned.

‘Okay,’ Hermione said. ‘But… I mean, why? Like you said, your siphon should be in control by
now. I don’t understand.’

‘Neither do I,’ Harry grumbled.

Hermione watched as Harry shuffled back up to sit against the headboard again. He ran his hands
through his hair in irritation and fear. She was probably the only one who would have seen that
fear in him. It cut her to the heart that she couldn’t offer him any help. He was her boyfriend,
her lover, and the person who had dragged her from loneliness and back to life. She wished fiercely
that she had the solution to his problem, but she didn’t. All she could do was embrace him gently
and murmur the name of the person most likely to help him.

‘Professor Oniki.’

‘What?’

‘You should tell Professor Oniki,’ Hermione explained. ‘He’s the only one who can possibly help.
He might be able to tell you how to control your siphon or… at least he’ll be able to explain
why.’

‘You hope.’

‘I hope,’ Hermione amended.



Professor Flitwick was telling the class about something, but Ginny wasn’t really listening. Her
first few days back at Hogwarts had been lonely. She hadn’t really seen Hermione since they arrived
at Hogwarts. Harry was likewise absent. Half of her dorm mates had not returned to Hogwarts for
their sixth year. Then there was Draco… Draco was just too confusing to even think about. She was,
in a way, thankful she hadn’t seen him. Although, her traitorous mind insisted on torturing her
with dreams that would make even the most promiscuous girl blush.

Neville was her only real companion. She didn’t see him as often as she’d like, but he always
went out of his way to stop and talk to her for a while, or escort her to her next lesson if he was
free. He was a sweetie. The kind of boy she should be attracted too.

Neville would never hurt her.

But then…

Her thoughts where interrupted as the class suddenly sprang into motion, standing up and packing
books and wands back into bags, heading for the door. Ginny glanced around in surprise, then
quickly gathered her things and followed. She stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her
throat.

Draco was waiting for her.

She stepped cautiously out into the corridor, trying to ignore the way people stared, clutching
her bag as if it was a lifeline. The corridor was deathly silent. Draco glared angrily at the
people watching them.

‘What?’ he snapped. ‘Not got lives of your own? Piss off!’

With acrimonious murmurs, the crowd dispersed as people went about their own business. ’Jerk!’
One girl spat as she passed him. Draco glowered at her back for a while. Ginny attempted to escape,
but Draco caught her arm as she went to leave.

‘Wait, please,’ he said, looking at her softly, ‘I just… can we talk?’

‘I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said, not looking at him.

‘Ginny.’ The way he spoke her name, so tenderly, so lovingly, made her look up at him with wide
chocolate eyes. ‘I know I don’t deserve it, but please. You think this is easy for me? You know how
I am. My pride is all I have left, but… but here I am… begging you, please. Do I have to…’

Ginny waited for him to finish, but he was seemingly unable too. ‘What, Draco?’

‘Please,’ Draco repeated.

‘I can’t even think about you without giving myself a headache Draco,’ Ginny said, knowing the
words would probably hurt him, but being unable to stop them. She didn’t know what else to say.

Draco looked away from her, down at the ground. His hands clenched at his side and she took one
small step back, unconsciously shying away from him. ‘Will you ever… be able to?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ginny replied. ‘I’m so sorry Draco.’

She stepped away, turned around and began walking away from him, but his next words froze her in
her tracks.

‘Don’t,’ he pleaded. ‘Give me another chance.’

‘I did,’ Ginny whispered softly. ‘And you broke my heart.’

‘It won’t be like that this time, I promise.’

‘I can’t know that.’ Ginny sighed. ‘Give me time. That’s all I can offer you.’

‘So that you can fuck that Neville Longbottom in the meantime?’ Draco lashed out.

Ginny stiffened.

‘He’s a safe choice, isn’t he? A loser like that, you don’t have to worry about him cheating on
you, or breaking your heart, right? But you know what Ginny. You don’t really like him. He will
never be able to satisfy you like I can.’

‘I’m leaving now,’ Ginny said stiffly.

‘Yeah,’ Draco shouted after her, ‘don’t forget, better stay on top. The fat bastard might crush
you!’

Ginny ignored him. She knew Draco didn’t mean the things he was saying and she wasn’t going to
stand around and listen to him. He was upset and when he was upset, Draco attacked. She at least
knew that much about him. Still, his harsh, cruel words rang in her ears. It was hard to stop from
roaring right back at him.

With strength of character she never knew she possessed, she kept her head up and marched
on.



Back outside the Charms classroom, Draco slumped against the wall, head cradled in his
hands.

‘Perfect,’ he muttered savagely, ‘fucking perfect.’

‘Mr Malfoy?’ Professor Flitwick enquired. ‘Mr Malfoy? Are you okay?’

‘No, I don’t think I am.’



It was very early in the morning. Harry had awoken with a strong determination to ask Professor
Oniki about his accidental magic problem. He left Hermione in bed and got dressed, intent on
finding the Professor before the day really started. He was just leaving the Slytherin dungeons
when he heard the sharp cry.

‘What the?’

Harry put on a burst of speed, taking the steps two at a time, until he emerged into the
Entrance Hall. The sight that met his eyes turned his blood cold.

A single, unmoving Hogwarts student led in the middle of the space, motionless, glassy eyes
staring up at the Dark Mark etched into the ceiling. Ron Weasley stared down at the boy, his face
white. He turned his head when Harry emerged from the dungeons. They were wide and
uncomprehending.

‘What happened?’ Harry asked.



14. Chapter Fourteen
--------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Back with another chapter. Sorry for the wait - again. Not really much to
say, except, I’d like to know what you all think of the Ron/Luna interaction so far. I’m trying
really hard with it. As you can probably tell from the last section of this chapter, I’m completely
in love with Luna. Seriously, if I could, I’d marry that girl. Lol. Anyway, hope you all like.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Fourteen
Harry looked down at the motionless body of the Gryffindor student. He was pale and his lips had
turned blue. He didn’t even have a mark on him, but Harry knew what had killed him - the Killing
Curse. He looked up at the Dark Mark etched into the ceiling of the Entrance Hall. His first
thought was that somehow Voldemort had gained entrance to Hogwarts again, but he quickly discarded
that idea. If that had happened, they would all be dead. No, this was something else.

‘Is he?’ Ron’s voice brought Harry out of his thoughts.

*What do you think?* Harry thought, but he kept his sarcasm to himself. It wasn’t the time
to be snippy. He needed to take command of the situation before it got out of hand.

‘Listen to me, Ron,’ Harry said, making eye contact with the Gryffindor. Ron continued to stare
at the dead body. ‘Listen!’

Ron’s eyes snapped to his.

‘We can’t let anyone else see this,’ Harry said, gesturing to the body. ‘Not now. Not after the
train. I need your help. Will you help me, Ron?’

Ron stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He visibly swallowed and then nodded.

‘I need you to go to get Dumbledore,’ Harry said. ‘Do you know where his office is?’

‘Yeah,’ Ron croaked.

‘His password will be pear drops. Tell him to come down here right now. Tell him I sent you and
it’s important - very important. Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Ron repeated, nodding.

‘Go on then!’ Harry pointed for emphasis. Ron dashed off with only a quick look at the body.
Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, thankful that he carried it with him at all times. He
spread it over the body, just in case someone else happened to pass through at this early hour. He
glanced at the Dark Mark, raised his wand, and cast the best concealment charm he knew. It wasn’t
very effective, but it would suffice. Then he waited.

Harry was sitting opposite Dumbledore, the expanse of the Headmaster’s desk separating them. Ron
sat in another chair beside them. They awaited the arrival of the Minister for Magic.

When Ron had returned with Dumbledore, Harry removed his Invisibility Cloak and showed him the
dead body. Dumbledore looked at the boy, stricken. Harry pointed up, cancelling his charm by
drawing attention to the Dark Mark. Dumbledore said not a word, but cast his own concealment charm,
effectively erasing the mark. Then he raised his wand and levitated the body into the air.

‘The Cloak, Harry.’

That was all he said. Harry draped the Cloak over the floating body. Then they followed
Dumbledore as he led them towards the Hospital Wing. Luckily, it was empty at the moment. Madam
Pomfrey exclaimed with anguish over the body. They floated him down onto one of the hospital beds.
Madam Pomfrey drew the curtains around the bed, hiding it from view. Dumbledore cautioned the
healer to say not a word about the boy. Madam Pomfrey assured him she would not and they left the
Hospital Wing. Dumbledore took them to his office and quickly called the Minister via his
fireplace. Harry once again found himself waiting.

‘How could this happen?’ That was Ron. Nobody answered him.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore. The old wizard stared at his desk, seemingly not even seeing the
thing he stared at so intently. He was lost in his thoughts. Harry didn’t like the look on his
face.

The fireplace burst to life and the Minister for Magic appeared. Rufus Scrimgeour brushed soot
and ash from his shoulders as he stepped into the office. Dumbledore finally came out of his stupor
and rose to greet him. Scrimgeour’s eyes found Harry and narrowed.

‘What has he done?’ The blunt assumption angered Harry to the core, but he wisely kept his mouth
shut. It was a struggle not to raise his wand and blast the idiot on the spot.

‘Now, now, Rufus,’ Dumbledore said, his merry voice replaced by one of concern, ‘do not allow
yourself to jump to conclusions.’

‘Dumbledore,’ Rufus said, meeting the old man’s eyes, ‘you call me unexpectedly at this early
hour and I arrive to find this boy sitting apprehensively in your office. What else am I to
think?’

‘Harry has done nothing except save us from a lot of bedlam,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I think you
should sit down, Rufus, this will be hard to hear.’ Dumbledore conjured a chair next to Ron.
Scrimgeour sat down.

Dumbledore began the story, going over everything that had happened during the morning, with
only small interruptions from Harry and Ron to explain their part. Finished, Dumbledore sat back
and looked at Scrimgeour over his folded hands.

The Minister for Magic rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. Nobody spoke as he
got slowly to his feet and wandered over to the fireplace. When Scrimgeour turned around, he
pointed a sharp finger at Harry accusingly.

‘So you just happened to be wandering around Hogwarts at six o’clock in the morning and just
happened to stumble upon the student, is that what you’re saying?’

Harry narrowed his eyes furiously. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he said firmly.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Rufus said gruffly, ‘I think you’re just trying to cover your tracks.’

‘You do, do you?’ Harry said.

‘You may fool Dumbledore, but you don’t fool me boy,’ Scrimgeour said. ‘Why don’t you just admit
it? You did this, didn’t you?’

Harry got to his feet abruptly, knocking his chair over backwards, glaring forcefully at
Scrimgeour. Harry’s hands formed balled fists at his sides. Dumbledore rose as well.

‘Enough!’ Dumbledore never shouted, and so when he did, both wizards almost jumped out of their
skins. ‘Sit down Harry. Rufus, please, refrain from accusing Harry while in my office. I trust him
and that should be enough for you.’

‘Well, it…’

‘Sir?’ Ron spoke up suddenly, getting everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat nervously and
went on. ‘Sir, I don’t think it was Potter. I found the body first and it was me that drew his
attention.’

‘Because he was close by, having just done the evil deed,’ Scrimgeour opined.

‘No, I don’t think so sir,’ Ron countered. ‘I saw his face when he noticed the body. Not even
Potter’s that good of an actor. Besides, the body was cold. It’d been there for a while, I think.
Maybe all night.’

Scrimgeour had no clever reply to that, so he remained silent. Harry stared at Ron with
surprise. He never thought he would hear Ron Weasley defending him. Ron caught his eye briefly, and
then looked away again.

‘Are we satisfied that Harry is innocent, then?’ Dumbledore brought them all back to the matter
at hand.

Rufus Scrimgeour looked at Harry darkly, clearly not satisfied, but he sat down
acquiescently.

‘I would ask you to not publicise the attack just yet Rufus,’ Dumbledore went on. ‘Obviously,
the parents of the child will have to be informed, and a suitable excuse made as to why the boy has
disappeared from Hogwarts, but for now, I think the matter should remain a secret. We cannot afford
any more troubling news. The attack on the train was bad enough, but to have another only a few
days later, and in Hogwarts to boot, would be disastrous.’

‘Perhaps Hogwarts should be closed,’ Rufus said.

‘Close Hogwarts? You can’t!’ Ron argued.

‘I agree with Mr. Weasley,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Closing Hogwarts is something that I will never
agree to. We cannot let Voldemort think he is winning.’

‘You think it was He Who Must Not Be Named then?’ Rufus asked, casting a suspicious glance at
Harry. Harry glared back.

‘I do not know Rufus, but I am certain that he was at least behind the attack,’ Dumbledore
answered. ‘The Dark Mark is testament to that. Perhaps by covering up the attack, we may be able to
draw out the attacker.’

‘Well, I will avoid publicising the attack for as long as I can, but you must know that
eventually I will have no choice,’ Rufus said. ‘Parents have a right to know that they are sending
their children into a potentially dangerous situation.’

‘Thank you Rufus,’ Dumbledore said.

No one knew quite what to say after that. Harry continued to glare at the back of Scrimgeour’s
head. Dumbledore studied his interlocked fingers. Ron looked at the tips of his trainers. Finally,
the Minister cleared his throat.

‘Yes, well, I’d best be going then.’

‘Very well, thank you for coming,’ Dumbledore replied.

Rufus cast some floo powder into the fireplace, green flames burst to life, and then he was
gone. Ron let out a breath.

‘Mr. Weasley,’ Dumbledore got Ron’s attention, ‘I’m sure breakfast will have already started in
the Great Hall.’

‘Right.’ Ron got to his feet, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He shuffled his feet
for a few moments, glanced at Harry, then at Dumbledore, and then left. The door clicked shut
behind him.

Dumbledore got out of his chair and wandered over to Fawkes. Idly stroking the birds golden
feathered neck, he asked, ‘any theories, Harry?’

Harry rubbed his forehead wearily. ‘We do have a few foxes in our pen.’

‘You’re referring to some of your housemates, I presume?’

‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Harry said. ‘Voldemort used Blaise against us last year. I wouldn’t put
it past him if he decided to sacrifice a few more young, impressionable idiots.’

‘Specifically?’

‘Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle,’ Harry answered. ‘Maybe some others. I really
don’t have much faith in most of Slytherin house. I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up with a wand
aimed at my head.’

‘That could be problematic.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I don’t intend to sleep in the Slytherin dorm this year.’

Dumbledore turned to face Harry, inquisition in his eyes.

‘I found a chamber that can only be accessed via Parsletongue - leftovers of Salazar Slytherin.
Rest his soul.’

‘How long have you known of this chamber?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘Around four years,’ Harry replied.

‘It appears secrets are becoming a stable of our relationship,’ Dumbledore observed.

‘Guess so.’

They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them expertly hiding their feelings.
Dumbledore sighed.

‘This cannot go on, Harry.’

‘What’s that?’ Harry shot back smoothly.

‘This contest of wills you have forced upon us.’ Dumbledore moved around to sit behind his desk
again.

‘I didn’t force anything on us,’ Harry said. ‘If I remember correctly - and I don’t mean to
sound like a petulant child here - you started the secrets. Besides, what good would it have done
if I told you about the chamber? It’s not like you could do anything about it. I’m the only one who
can access it. Well, Voldemort and me. In the grand scheme of things, it’s really not a big deal.
Especially when stacked up against, oh, let’s say, a prophecy that defines ones life?’ Harry
delivered flatly.

‘Alas, our secrets, however misguided, are in the past. I am proposing that we wipe the slate
clean, as they say.’ Dumbledore stared at Harry over his hands.

Harry stared back. ‘We don’t have time for this.’

Dumbledore glanced down at his desk, sighed, and then met Harry’s eyes again. ‘Very well.’

‘What do you intend to do then?’ Harry asked.

‘I will do all that I can,’ Dumbledore said. ‘If your housemates are responsible, they will
eventually make a mistake. Then I will act. In the meantime, I cannot assume that they are guilty,
and therefore must search for alternatives.’

‘I’m pretty sure it’s them. Who else could it be?’

‘Indeed.’ Dumbledore took a breath. ‘Thank you for this morning, Harry. I dread to think what
pandemonium would have ensued had another student found the body.’

‘Yeah.’ Harry stood up and made to leave.

‘Whatever you may think of me, Harry, know that I care for you more than is good for us. All
that I have done, I did trying to protect you. In what I believed was your best interests.’

‘”More than is good for us?” What’s that supposed to mean?’ Harry asked, his hand on the
doorknob.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, head bowed in thought. ‘Nothing. I have already said too
much.’

Harry turned to appraise Dumbledore. ‘More secrets?’

‘Regrettably, it seems so.’

Harry looked forward again, turning his back to Dumbledore. ‘I’ve been thinking about the fake
locket. I saw one similar to that in Grimmauld Place, I’m sure of it, but I can’t remember
where.’

‘I’ll have Sirius look into it,’ Dumbledore replied.

‘Good.’

The door shut solidly behind him as Harry left.

Dumbledore lowered his head into his hands.

‘You mean he blatantly accused you? Right in front of Dumbledore and Ron Weasley?’

Hermione was aghast. Harry had been expecting it. Draco remained silent.

The threesome sat in the Head’s common room. Draco and Harry both lounged comfortably in the two
wing backed chairs. Hermione, who until a few moments ago had been sitting in Harry’s lap, was
pacing before the roaring fire, looking adorably upset. At least in the world according to Harry,
she did.

‘You’re surprised?’

‘It’s just not right, that’s all!’ Hermione raged. ‘It’s one thing for the newspapers to label
you as a potentially dangerous dark wizard, but the Minister for Magic is supposed to be impartial.
I mean there’s no real proof. It’s all just hearsay. Doesn’t it bother you?’

‘I think we’ve had this conversation before.’

‘I just don’t understand how you can be this blasé about it,’ Hermione argued.

‘It’s simple,’ Harry said. ‘Practice.’

Draco smirked and made an amused sort of sound.

‘You think it’s funny?’ Hermione rounded on him, hands balled into fists, placed menacingly on
her hips.

Draco shrugged. ‘Little bit.’

‘Ugh!’ Hermione scoffed. ‘You two are both idiots.’

‘Sit down sweetie,’ Harry said, patting his lap.

Hermione scowled at him, but sat down and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry kissed her
jaw.

‘I’m still mad at you.’

‘Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later,’ Harry teased.

‘Hah, yeah right. If you think you’re getting some tonight, you have another thing coming
mister.’

‘You say that now,’ Harry said, hand roaming up her thigh.

Hermione squealed and slapped his hand away. ‘Harry! Not in front of Draco.’

Harry and Hermione both looked across at Draco, but he was staring ahead, looking a thousand
miles away.

‘Oh boy, not again,’ Harry groaned.

‘I never thought I’d ever feel this bad for him, but I can’t help it. Honestly, I feel like I’m
being ripped apart by conflicting emotions. Part of me thinks that Ginny was right to dump him, but
another part just wants to see them get back together.’

‘Yeah.’ Harry leant towards Draco and snapped his fingers in front of his face. ‘Hey, Draco,
snap out of it.’

‘What?’ Draco’s eyes finally focused back on them.

‘What happened?’ Hermione asked sympathetically.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Draco mumbled.

‘It might make you feel better,’ Hermione tried.

‘I don’t think so Hermione,’ Draco said. ‘I just… have to figure it out on my own.’

‘Like always?’ Hermione argued. ‘I don’t think handling things on your own has been working for
you lately, do you? I like to think we’ve become friends, Draco. Harry is your best friend. That’s
what we’re here for. That’s what friends do. They help each other.’

‘I can’t,’ Draco said, getting up. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. ‘Not
now.’

‘But…’

‘Let him go,’ Harry said gently, squeezing her reassuringly.

‘You can’t agree with his method of dealing with things?’ Hermione protested. ‘He needs
guidance. Advice. I don’t want to see him screw things up further, that’s all.’

‘If you try and force him, it’ll only make things worse,’ Harry said. ‘Draco’s doesn’t like
being told what to do. If you try that, he’ll only do the opposite.’

‘That’s stupid,’ Hermione said.

‘But that’s just how he is. Let him come to you on his terms. Give him some time to think it
over.’

‘I’m just afraid he won’t come to me.’

‘I think he will,’ Harry said. ‘Draco might be stupid sometimes, but he isn’t an idiot. He knows
he’s been dealing with things the wrong way. He just has to realise it.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know Draco. I know guys.’

‘Hmm.’ Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head wonderingly. ‘You’re all idiots.’

‘Well, this idiot wants to talk to you about something,’ Harry said.

‘Oh really?’

‘Yeah. But first, we’ve got a little business to take care of.’

‘Business?’

‘In the bedroom.’

‘Oh, you’re terrible.’

Business was taken care of and Harry and Hermione dozed soundlessly in the Head Girls dormitory.
In contrast to Draco’s room, Hermione’s was decorated with the Gryffindor colours. Other than that,
it was almost an exact replica; only slightly bigger and containing a dressing table for her
personal grooming needs.

Hermione’s head was a comfortable weight on Harry’s chest.

‘Harry?’ Hermione whispered into his chest, getting his attention.

‘Yeah?’

‘You wanted to tell me something,’ Hermione reminded him.

‘Actually, I wanted to ask you something.’

‘What is it?’

Harry thought. Ever since his meeting with Dumbledore earlier, and their subsequent
confrontation, he’d been thinking non-stop about his relationship with the old Headmaster. It was
true that their relationship had become strained after Harry forced Dumbledore to reveal the
prophecy to him.

Harry had a rule. He only gave a person one chance, and if they messed that up, broke his trust,
then that was it. They never got another. He would forever doubt that person’s honesty, because,
after all, if a person can lie to you once, they can do it again.

So after Dumbledore’s secrets had been revealed, Harry had been forced to put the Headmaster
under the list of people he no longer trusted. Dumbledore might not have blatantly lied to him, but
Harry considered the prophecy to be a big deal, and Dumbledore had kept it from for too long. He
couldn’t help but wonder what else the old wizard was keeping from him. Every time he looked at
him, these thoughts plagued his mind.

‘Harry?’

‘Mm.’

‘What is it?’

Harry took a breath and decided. ‘It’s about Dumbledore.’

‘What about him?’

‘We talked today, after… you know… he wanted a fresh start between us.’

‘A fresh start? Why?’

‘Because he knows I don’t trust him like I used too.’

‘Because of the prophecy?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, ‘because of the prophecy. He asked for a clean slate.’

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing. I changed the subject.’

‘Do you want a fresh start Harry?’

‘I don’t know. I’d like to be able to trust him again, but I don’t think I can. It’s just not in
my nature.’

‘I think that if you want to trust him, you can.’

‘He’s still keeping secrets though. He as much as told me.’

Hermione sat up and looked at him evenly. ‘What did he say exactly?’

‘He said, I didn’t really understand it, but he said that he cared for me more than is good for
us. I asked him what he meant, but he shrugged it off and said he’d already said too much.’

‘He said he cared about you?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘Just, maybe that’s what he meant. That he cared for you too much, and that was why he kept the
prophecy from you, because he didn’t want to worry you.’

Harry frowned, and then shook his head. ‘Sorry Hermione, but that’s a load of bollocks. He
should have known that I was ready. I was already preparing to battle Voldemort before I even
entered Hogwarts for the first time.’

‘You where only eleven years old, and you where preparing to battle the darkest wizard the world
has ever known? How did you know he was even still alive?’

‘It was something Hagrid said to me when he collected me from the Dursleys. He said that he
thought Voldemort was still alive, out there, just waiting to get back his strength. When he told
me that, I was happy, because it meant I could get my revenge. I thought about nothing else but
that over the weeks leading up to September the first. I was determined to become the greatest
wizard to ever live, greater than Voldemort, so that when he finally came back, I would be ready to
finish him for good.’

‘I can’t even imagine it. At eleven years old, you wanted,’ Hermione shook her head, ‘it’s
crazy.’

‘Maybe if I didn’t think that, things would have been different. The Sorting Hat saw it all in
my head. It gave me a choice. I don’t think it matters what house you’re in, as long as you know
what you want. I chose Slytherin because I wanted to get to know my enemy. It was as simple as
that.’

Hermione gazed into Harry’s eyes sympathetically. She gave him a deep, long kiss. ‘You’ve had
such a tough life, haven’t you?’

‘I chose that life Hermione. I don’t regret it.’

Hermione smiled softly and snuggled into his chest again. ‘Professor Dumbledore probably feels
the same way. I mean that he wants to stop Voldemort, just like you. Maybe he did everything he
thought he had to do, including putting you with your Aunt and Uncle and keeping the prophecy from
you. You have the same goal. It should bring you closer together, not drive a wedge between
you.’

‘I don’t doubt his intentions. I doubt his methods.’

Hermione kissed his chest, softening the blow for her next words. ‘Like violating Katie Bell’s
mind?’

Harry sighed. ‘Point taken. I guess we can both get carried away.’

‘The fact is, he does care about you.’

‘Yet he still treats me like a child, keeping things from me even now. Haven’t I proved I can
handle anything?’

‘He took you along to get the Horcrux last year, didn’t he?’

‘He did that because he knew he couldn’t handle it by himself. He just used me as a tool, that’s
all.’

‘That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?’

‘Harsh? Yes. Accurate? Yes.’

‘You sure know how to hold a grudge, Harry.’

‘That’s my problem. I don’t do it deliberately. I just can’t help but feel this way.’

‘Then perhaps you should try to learn how to forgive. I really don’t know what else to say that
I haven’t already said.’

‘You think I’m a horrible person?’

‘No. Just damaged.’

‘Think you can fix me?’

Hermione leant up to kiss his jaw. ‘I’ll try.’

It was the next day. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor house table, attempting to wolf down
her breakfast. After waking up late, curled up close to Harry, Hermione had rushed to get dressed,
and then raced all the way down to the Great Hall, nearly bowling over a tiny first year on the
way. Harry had left a book in Slytherin’s Chamber, so he’d given her a cursory goodbye kiss and
then left, only half dressed. So she sat alone at the table, watching as students funnelled out of
the Hall one by one. She was going to be late for her morning class, which was Arithmancy, if she
didn’t hurry.

Trying to swallow a large piece of bacon and still appear dignified, Hermione pushed her plate
away and went to leave the table. She was on the way out of the Great Hall when she bumped into
Ginny.

‘Hermione!’ Ginny called.

‘Hi Ginny, sorry, I can’t talk. Going to be late.’

‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,’ Ginny trailed off.

Hermione was already leaving, walking backwards out of the Great Hall. ‘Come by this evening,
we’ll talk then.’

‘Okay, bye,’ Ginny said.

Later that day, after both girls had finished their classes, they sat down around the roaring
fireplace in the Head’s common room. Harry, Draco and Neville had agreed to leave them alone to
talk, and had gone off to the Room of Requirement to get some training in.

Ginny was sitting curled up in Draco’s allotted chair, nursing a cup of coffee and staring into
the flames. Hermione watched her, waiting patiently.

Finally, Ginny spoke up, although she continued to stare into the fire as if entranced. ‘Draco
ambushed me a few days ago. He wanted me to forgive him, to give him another chance. I shot him
down.’

‘That explains Draco’s mood lately,’ Hermione said, mostly to herself.

‘He’s been moody?’

‘He’s always moody. Just more so, lately.’

Ginny smiled a little. ‘Yeah, I guess your right. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know him.
Other times… I can’t stop thinking about him. Why can’t I just move on, Hermione?’

‘Do you really want too?’ Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

Ginny paused in thought. ‘Sometimes,’ she whispered.

‘But not all the time?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘What should I do? I can’t stop thinking about him, but I can’t trust him
not to hurt me again. He just confuses me so much sometimes. Why can’t it just be simple? Love him:
be with him. Instead it’s all: he hurt me, broke my heart, then saved my life and endured torture
for me. What am I supposed to feel after all that?’

‘I don’t think anyone has the answer to that Ginny,’ Hermione said consolingly.

‘I think about all the things he did for me last year, and all the times we spent together,
talking, sharing stories about our childhoods and… being intimate. I just can’t help but wonder
what, if any, of that was real.’

‘I think you know one thing that was real, don’t you Ginny?’

‘What’s that?’ Ginny asked.

‘Draco loved you. Loves you. You know that, don’t you?’

‘… Yes.’

‘Why don’t we start there,’ Hermione said. ‘I’m not going to defend him. What he did to you was
terrible. We all know it. Draco knows it. And believe me, he regrets it every second. He let his
pride get in the way of his heart when he hurt you. Harry went to great lengths to explain it all
to me, because even I had a hard time understanding why Draco could do that to you. Somehow, Harry
understands Draco better than anyone. Maybe even more than Draco understands himself.

‘Harry told me that Draco can be stupid sometimes, but he isn’t an idiot. He knows he made a
mistake when he hurt you. But he didn’t make it again, did he, Ginny? He allowed Voldemort to
torture him, to humiliate him in front of the entire study body of Hogwarts. He sacrificed his
pride to protect you.

‘So yes, Draco loves you. Yes, Draco made a mistake. Yes, Draco learnt from that mistake. And
yes, Draco is very, very sorry.’

‘I want to forgive him,’ Ginny said, ‘but I… I don’t think I’m ready. Not to be with him again.
But I’m afraid that if I don’t… he’ll lose interest.’

‘I don’t think that will happen,’ Hermione replied, biting back a smile, ‘but if that’s what’s
worrying you, how’s this? Propose to Draco that you start a fresh, as friends, and that you see
where it takes you. No pressure, no commitment. Just friendship. Then, in time, if you think you
can, you can pursue a relationship together.’

‘That… might work,’ Ginny spoke softly.

‘Just make sure he understands that and I’m sure it will.’

Ginny turned and smiled at Hermione. ‘Thank you Hermione, you’re a great friend.’

‘Glad I could help.’

Ron Weasley couldn’t stop thinking about the pale face of that nameless Gryffindor, staring
lifelessly up at him. He had nightmares about it. It plagued his waking mind so cruelly that he
sometimes wanted to scream.

Worst of all, he couldn’t even talk to anybody about it. Nobody else in the school knew, except
Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Potter. Professor Dumbledore was the Headmaster; so going to him was
out of the question. Madam Pomfrey would probably lock him in the Hospital Wing and coddle him to
death. Ron didn’t even consider going to Potter - that was just never going to happen.

So Ron was forced to deal with it all by himself. That was why he had secluded himself away from
the rest of Hogwarts, high at the top of one of the castles ramparts. He sat with his legs dangling
over the side, gazing out at the horizon, watching the sun slowly set behind the mountaintops.

He wasn’t normally one for quiet alone time, but for now, he just couldn’t bear company. All he
wanted to do was sit alone and think. Think about how something so horrible could happen inside the
protected walls of Hogwarts. And think about who could ever do such a thing - murdering an innocent
little kid in cold blood.

Ron was forced to the conclusion that it was someone already inside Hogwarts. It couldn’t be an
outside force (like You-Know-Who) because no one could get into Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing
- last term was a fluke, everyone knew that. So then it was either a teacher, or a student.

Ron didn’t think it was a teacher.

That only left the students.

‘It has to be a Slytherin,’ Ron mumbled to himself.

But which Slytherin?

The Minister for Magic thought it was Potter. Could it really be him?

Ron would have liked to believe it, but a number of reasons prevented him. First and foremost,
the Order of the Phoenix trusted Potter – Dumbledore trusted Potter. Hermione Granger was Potter’s
girlfriend, and she was always so smart and sensible, so surely she wouldn’t be fooled if he were
lying. And Potter had saved the lives of many Gryffindors during You-Know-Who’s attack. But what
really convinced Ron was the look on Potter’s face when he first saw the boy. It was horror,
sorrow, and anger.

So if it wasn’t Potter…

Ron shook his head sadly. It could be anyone.

‘Hello Ronald.’

Ron jumped and turned to find Luna Lovegood standing behind him, wearing a bright yellow
sundress, a woolly hat that flopped down over her ears, and nothing else. She didn’t even have any
shoes on.

‘Luna, what are you doing here?’ Ron tried not to stare.

‘I thought I’d come and watch the Pollot Flies,’ Luna replied vaguely.

Ron tried to keep his mouth shut, but in the end, his curiosity got the better of him. ‘Pollot
Flies?’

‘Yes,’ Luna climbed up next to him and sat down, smoothing her dress down her legs. She gazed
off into the distance.

Ron tried to see what she was seeing. ‘I don’t see them.’

‘Of course you don’t silly,’ Luna said with a smile, ‘they don’t come out until after the sun
has set.’

‘Right. How silly of me.’

Ron went back to staring at the setting sun, but his traitorous eyes kept flickering back to
Luna. She was staring ahead, eyes half closed. Was she asleep? She didn’t even seem to be
breathing.

‘It’s… nice out here, isn’t it?’ Ron tried, getting a little uncomfortable in the silence.

‘Hmm.’

So she was still alive. That was good. Ron let his thoughts wander again, but before they could
go far, Luna spoke.

‘Are you okay Ronald?’

‘Huh? Yeah. Fine.’ Ron shuffled his feet. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘You seem distracted,’ Luna said, still with her eyes closed, ‘and you look like you haven’t
slept well.’

‘You been watching me?’

Luna smiled.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Ron asked.

Luna continued smiling.

Ron sighed. ‘I wish I could tell you,’ he admitted.

‘You can.’

Ron remained silent, but his eyes never left Luna’s serene face, shinning delicately in the
moonlight. With a start, he looked out at the horizon. The sun had finally set. Darkness encroached
on them, buffeted only slightly by the moon.

‘Oooh, how beautiful,’ Luna hummed sweetly.

Ron again tried to see what Luna was seeing. Nothing.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Pollot Flies,’ Luna explained. ‘I’ve never seen this many.’

‘I still can’t see them,’ Ron pointed out, squinting into the darkness.

Luna looked at him for the first time. ‘Would you like too?’

Ron looked back questionably. Finally, he nodded.

Luna raised her hand and moved it over to his. Ron watched as it hovered above his, small and
pale. He glanced up to find Luna watching his face. He smiled, somewhat confused by her strange
behaviour. Luna let her hand fall and clasped his hand. He clasped back, delighted to find her hand
warm and soft.

‘Look,’ Luna said, looking back out at the dark sky.

Ron looked. He saw. Thousands of tiny lights lit up the darkness, twinning around and in-between
each other like living fireworks that never die, all of them somehow different, be it size, colour,
or definition. Ron’s mouth hung open. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Luna smiled
at Ron and squeezed his hand. Ron looked back at her.

‘How?’ he asked.

‘I can see them,’ she squeezed again, ‘and so you can.’

‘They’re beautiful,’ Ron said.

‘Yes, they are.’

They sat like that for nearly an hour, watching the Pollot Flies dance through the sky. Ron
forgot all about his troubles, at least for the time being, and became entranced with Luna and the
amazing spectacle before his eyes. Her hand was warm and sweaty inside his and he didn’t care. He
never wanted to let go, afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to see them again. Luna seemed
more interested in watching him than the Pollot Flies.

‘It’s getting late,’ Luna pointed out.

Ron came back to himself. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he said.

‘I had fun.’

Ron smiled. ‘Me too.’

‘We can do it again, if you want,’ Luna proposed.

Ron nodded. ‘I think I’d like that.’

Luna gently removed her hand from his and stood up. Ron turned and looked out at the sky. The
Pollot Flies had vanished, as if they never even existed in Ron’s world. Maybe they didn’t. They
existed in Luna’s world. A world he couldn’t wait to visit again.

‘They’ve gone,’ he said.

‘They’re still there,’ Luna corrected him. ‘You just can’t see them anymore.’

‘When can I… see them again?’ Ron asked.

‘Tomorrow?’ Luna suggested, smiling sweetly. Ron couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Tomorrow. I can’t wait.’

Ron stood up as well and watched as Luna slowly walked away.

She turned back only once. ‘Goodbye, Ronald.’

‘Goodbye, Luna.’

Then she was gone - like the Pollot Flies.



15. Chapter Fifteen
-------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Here’s the next chapter. Sorry for the wait. Blah blah blah. Enjoy.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Fifteen
Harry was still determined to talk to Professor Oniki about his accidental magic problem, but
the events of the last few days had distracted him from this goal. He finally got around to it on
the last day of the first week back at Hogwarts. After his Defence Against the Dark Arts class,
Harry hung back, waiting for the rest of the students to leave. Hermione caught his eyes, nodded
her reassurance, and then followed Draco and Neville out.

When Harry approached the front desk, Professor Oniki was sitting with his eyes closed, focusing
on some inner something. Harry cleared his throat. Oniki did not open his eyes, but he spoke all
the same.

‘Yes, Mister Potter?’

Harry was momentarily taken aback, but he denied this knew question, for now. ‘I was wondering
if I could talk to you about something, sir. It’s private, and I’d prefer it remained that
way.’

‘Of course.’ Oniki still had his eyes closed.

‘It’s about that magical siphon you told us about,’ Harry said.

Professor Oniki nodded encouragingly, urging Harry on.

‘You said that I should have it under control by now, right?’

‘I did,’ Oniki replied.

‘Well,’ Harry took a deep breath, ‘I don’t.’

Professor Oniki opened his eyes slowly and looked at Harry searchingly. ‘When was the last time
you performed accidental magic?’

‘During the attack on the train,’ Harry replied. ‘I Apparated into Hogsmeade to warn Professor
Dumbledore and I needed a broom to get to the castle quickly, so I asked to borrow one from Madam
Rosmerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks, but she was being a bit slow, and I was agitated, and
I shouted at her and… a glass exploded.’

‘Interesting,’ Professor Oniki hummed.

‘Interesting? I don’t think so,’ Harry argued, ‘it’s down right dangerous, is what it is. I
could hurt someone badly with this kind of uncontrollable power, and believe me, it’s
powerful.’

‘I have no doubt,’ Professor Oniki said. ‘You are not only famous in Britain, Harry-sama, but
all around the world, as well.’

‘Then you understand how I need to… I don’t know, get control of this damn thing, before I hurt
someone?’

‘It is not that simple.’

‘Explain.’

‘I suspect your siphon may be larger than most peoples,’ Oniki explained, ‘and so it remains
open, even at your mature age. Perhaps you will never gain full control of it. That remains to be
seen.’

‘That’s not good enough,’ Harry said. ‘I need to be able to control it. You said it yourself; my
siphon is larger than most peoples, right? So that means it can do more damage, right? I can
channel a larger amount of raw magical energy, right?’

‘Correct.’

‘Is any of this ringing alarm bells, or what?’ Harry nearly shouted.

Professor Oniki smiled calmly. ‘I could teach you to close it.’

Harry stared at his new Professor, dumbfounded. ‘Why didn’t you say that earlier?’

‘Perhaps I would have, if given the chance,’ Professor Oniki pointed out.

‘So, how?’ Harry asked.

‘It will be difficult and time consuming,’ Oniki said. ‘At the moment, your siphon is wide open.
You need to learn how to close it, forcefully. Normally, a wizard’s body compensates for this as he
matures, but as we have already discussed, yours appears to be too large to close naturally. In
this case, you must learn how to close it consciously.’

‘And how do I do that?’

‘I will teach you. It will require intense meditation, a total clearing of your mind, awareness
of your body and spirit and the magic that flows all around us. Be prepared, it may take many years
for you to gain complete mastery of your siphon.’

‘Is there no faster way?’

‘None that you would approve of,’ Professor Oniki said gravely.

Harry understood. Professor Oniki was talking about blocking his siphon permanently, and they
both knew that was not an option.

‘Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get started.’

Professor Oniki smiled. ‘I admire your determination,’ he said, ‘but I have a class arriving
soon.’

Harry opened his mouth to argue.

‘Come back tonight,’ Professor Oniki interrupted before he could even begin, ‘and we will begin.
Seven o’clock, I think.’

‘Seven,’ Harry repeated.

‘Seven.’

Harry bowed his head. ‘Thank you, Professor Oniki.’

‘Thank you, Harry-sama.’

Harry stopped and turned back to face Professor Oniki. ‘What for?’

‘I believe you know.’

Harry nodded sedately. He knew. He went to leave again, but then he remembered that he had one
last question, although he thought he had already discovered the answer.

‘Sir, when I approached you, how did you know it was me?’

‘I think you know that, as well,’ Professor Oniki replied.

‘Meditation?’

‘Meditation.’

Harry smiled. ‘How long did it take you to master?’

‘A long time.’

Ginny was more nervous than she had ever been in her entire life. All day, she had been
attempting to build up her courage and go face Draco, to offer him her friendship. Despite her
conflicting emotions, she was not going to let her doubts get in the way of her objective. She was
going to find Draco. She was going to look into those gorgeous silver eyes of his. She was going to
explain, clearly and precisely, that she wasn’t ready to jump back into a relationship yet, but
that she was interested in being his friend.

That would work, wouldn’t it?

She hoped so.

In a reversal of the other day, Ginny was waiting for Draco outside his class. He stopped when
he saw her, his eyes widening for only a fraction of a second, before softening, and then hardening
again as he retreated back into his shell. This happened in all of one second. Neville came up next
to him, glanced sideways at Draco, and then swivelled his eyes to find Ginny. She smiled at him in
greeting and he grinned back.

‘Hey Ginny,’ Neville said, ‘you waiting for me?’

‘Uh,’ Ginny paused, trying to find the words. In that time, Hermione came up behind Neville.
‘I…’

Draco seemed to come out of his reverie. He immediately turned on his heel and began walking
away, not even looking back.

‘I can’t…’ Ginny fumbled for the words to let Neville down gently, but Hermione saved her the
trouble.

‘I think Ginny wants to talk to Draco, Neville,’ Hermione said.

‘Oh.’ Neville tried hard to keep his disappointment from showing.

‘Sorry Neville, we’ll hang out soon,’ Ginny said, already leaving, ‘I promise.’

‘Bye Ginny,’ Hermione called. ‘Good luck.’

Draco was nearly at the end of the corridor when Ginny caught him. ‘Draco, wait up!’

Draco stopped and turned to stare at her. She jogged to a stop before him. ‘I thought you didn’t
want anything to do with me?’ Draco accused, immediately going on the defensive.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Ginny pointed out. ‘I just… I needed time to think.’

Draco remained silent, staring at her.

Ginny cleared her throat. ‘I’m not ready to… to get… I’m not ready for a relationship yet…’

‘Is that what you wanted to tell me,’ Draco said, icily, ‘because, you know, I’d already figured
that out.’

‘Ugh, would you stop that!’ Ginny spat, glaring back at him now. He made her so furious. She
knew this probably wasn’t a good idea, but she seemed to have left all her self-control back with
Hermione and Neville. ‘All the time, you always do it. You think I’m here to emphasize the fact
that I’m not ready to be with you, so you attack, to make it look like you’re the one shooting me
down, just to salvage your precious pride, when we both know you love me and you want to be with me
and damn it, you are such an idiot!’

Ginny took a deep, furious breath. Draco stared back at Ginny, not knowing what to think. Ginny
took another breath, calming this time.

‘I’m not here to hurt you, Draco,’ Ginny explained. ‘I came here to tell you that I’m not ready
to be in a relationship yet, but, and listen closely idiot, I don’t want things to be screwed up
between us anymore. I want to be able to trust you again. I just… I think we should be friends.
Then, if things go okay, then maybe we can start to… I don’t know… rebuild our… relationship.
That’s what I wanted to say.’

Draco swallowed. It sounded very loud in the empty corridor. ‘You want to be friends? Just
friends?’

‘What I want… I don’t want you to think I’m pulling the friend card, because I’m really not… I
want more than that, but at the moment, I’m just not ready… do you understand?’

‘Yeah, I think I do,’ Draco replied.

‘Good.’

After a short, somewhat uncomfortable silence in which neither Draco nor Ginny knew what to say,
Draco finally blurted out, ‘what about Longbottom?’

‘Neville?’ Ginny smiled reassuringly. ‘He’s just a friend.’

‘He fancies you,’ Draco pointed out.

‘I know,’ Ginny replied. ‘He’s sweet and everything, but… not my type. You don’t have to be
jealous.’

‘I’m not jealous of him,’ Draco defended, looking horrified at the thought. ‘He’s fat and ugly
and…’

‘Draco,’ Ginny interrupted, ‘stop being a jealous prat and shut up.’

Draco closed his mouth and all but pouted. Ginny couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her.
‘What?’ Draco snapped.

‘You look so funny, pouting like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit tin!’ Ginny
chuckled.

‘Stop laughing at me,’ Draco tried to sound indignant, but he just couldn’t. He smiled
lopsidedly at Ginny as she clutched at her sides.

‘Oh boy, that was just what the doctor ordered,’ Ginny said, wiping a tear of mirth from her
eye.

‘Mmm,’ Draco agreed.

Another moment of silence fell, but this was no longer uncomfortable. Draco looked at Ginny. She
looked back.

‘So what now?’ Draco asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Ginny admitted.

‘You been… doing okay?’ Draco stuck his hands into his pants pockets.

‘Since when?’ Ginny asked. ‘Since you… or since, you know, last term… since the train?’

‘…All of it?’

‘I guess,’ Ginny shrugged, ‘it was pretty bad at first. With you, and then when you-know-who
attacked… it got pretty bad, but I’m really… I guess I never said thank you for what you did. Thank
you, for saving my life.’

‘Heh, you’re welcome.’

‘What about you?’ Ginny asked. ‘That was your father, right? He wanted you to… you know.’ Ginny
just couldn’t force herself to say it. ‘It must be terrible, not being able to see your
family.’

‘Not when your family is a bunch of blood fanatics,’ Draco said. ‘Though I do kind of…’

‘What?’ Ginny pressed. ‘Don’t be afraid to tell me things, Draco. It’s what… couples do…’

‘I thought we were just friends?’

‘We are,’ Ginny said, ‘but that doesn’t mean we can’t be close. I want you to feel like you can
share things with me, like before, except, you know, don’t lie to me this time.’

Draco smiled a little. ‘Right. No lies. Well, I do, sometimes, miss my… mother.’

Ginny did a little happy dance inside. Draco was being honest with her, sharing a private and
potentially embarrassing (at least for Draco) secret with her. ‘Do you think she misses you?’

‘She would never say it,’ Draco said, ‘but I like to think so, yeah.’ Draco suddenly seemed to
realise they were having this private conversation in the middle of a corridor, where anyone could
be eavesdropping. ‘Can we go somewhere a little less in the open?’

‘Actually, I really need to get going,’ Ginny admitted. ‘I’ve got a Potions class starting soon
and we have to take create this really tough Body Freeze formula and I haven’t prepared for it at
all and I just know I’m going to mess it all up. Have I told you how much I hate Potions?’

‘I could help you, if you want,’ Draco offered.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ Draco said. ‘I’m pretty good at Potions. We can make it like a date… I mean, not a date,
date, just a friendship date… tutoring, whatever you want to call it.’

‘Sounds great,’ Ginny said with a smile of thanks.

‘Great,’ Draco agreed. ‘So, when you free?’

‘I’ll get back to you, I promise.’

‘Okay.’

Ginny started backing away, heading towards her Potions class. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘I’ll see you,
then.’

‘Yeah,’ Draco called after her. ‘Good luck with your Body Freeze potion.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’

Ginny turned the corner.

That night found Ron once again sitting atop the Hogwarts castle rampart from which he had
watched the Pollot Flies with Luna. Ron was waiting for the strange and ever more interesting girl
to arrive, as promised the night before, and trying to convince himself that this was not a date.
In fact, he’d been trying all day.

The sun had already set and the moon was shinning in the sky, shrouded every now and then with a
veil of cloudy mist. He stared into the blackness of space and tried to see the Pollot Flies, but
they remained ever elusive to his eyes and, indeed, his mind. He was almost convinced that he
hadn’t actually seem them at all, that they were some sort of hallucination Luna had passed onto
him with her touch.

He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe in Luna’s beautiful, fantastical world, but
with every passing moment he was not at her side, he doubted even more. Why couldn’t he see them?
Why couldn’t everyone else see them? Why was it that only Luna saw these amazing things? Every
crazy idea she talked about and believed in, every one of them, were they as real to her as the
Pollot Flies? Was it that only she could see these things? And if so - and he was back to this
point again - why was it only she could see them?

Luna arrived in the vacuum of his silence and internal musings, treading softly on her bare
feet. She was wearing that same yellow sundress, but this time had seemingly decided to leave
behind the ridiculous woolly hat. She smiled her smile at him and her dirty blonde hair whipped
across her face with the wind.

‘Hello Ronald,’ she said, tucking her stray hair behind her ear.

‘Hey,’ he returned. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come.’

‘Oh, that’s silly,’ she said, taking her seat next to him.

Ron didn’t really know how to reply to that, so he remained silent. He watched as Luna settled
in and then sat gazing out into the sky. Her hand was resting on the stone between them. He inched
his hand closer to hers, wanting to take her hand and see what she was seeing. Luna seemed to read
his mind without even looking at him. Her hand moved and closed the distance, clasping his gently.
Ron looked at their joined hands for only a moment, before turning his attention to the starry
night. He couldn’t help but let out a breathe of amazement. How could he have doubted this
magnificent sight?

The thousands and thousands of multicoloured lights danced around each other artfully, the black
space their canvas. He more felt than saw Luna’s reaction, a tiny quirk of her lips. He tightened
his hold on her hand.

‘Magnificent,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Luna agreed.

Ron let the silence settle again. He didn’t want to disturb the moment yet. He only wanted to
bask in the magical world that Luna lived in every day, a world that put his to shame. It was
amazing and if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe it. He felt like a muggle
just discovering the magical world of wizardry. Or at least, how he imagined a muggle would
react.

But eventually, the questions bubbling inside him began to rise to the surface, and he couldn’t
contain them anymore.

‘Luna?’

‘Yes Ronald?’

‘Have you always… I mean, how come… why is that you can see these things and I can’t? And other
people like me, why can’t they see them?’

Luna seemed to be thinking. ‘I’m not sure,’ she eventually replied. ‘I have always been able to
see them. My mother could as well, but she died, and now I’m the only one I know that can see them.
My father knows and believes, but he can’t see them anymore, not with my mother gone.’

Ron didn’t allow himself time to reflect on this information Luna had revealed to him, but
pressed on. ‘So you can make other people see? And your mum could as well?’

‘Yes,’ Luna affirmed. ‘I think it might be like a special trait, like Metamorphmagi. Only where
they can change their appearance at will, I can see things others cannot.’

‘But why?’

Luna only shrugged. ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’ When Ron looked disappointed, she
tried: ‘Why do you have red hair?’

Ron grinned. ‘All my family have red hair,’ he answered.

‘I know.’

‘Then you think it’s hereditary?’ Ron asked.

‘Maybe,’ Luna replied vaguely.

‘Everything you believe in, its all real, isn’t it? You’ve seen it all?’

‘Its all real,’ Luna said, ‘but I haven’t seen everything.’

Ron smiled. ‘But just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real, right?’

Luna beamed at him. Ron made an embarrassed kind of sound and rubbed the back of his neck. The
silence that fell then was comforting. They both went back to watching the Pollot Flies.

‘Will you tell me what was bothering you yesterday?’ Luna eventually asked.

Ron thought about it. Professor Dumbledore had told them not to say anything to anyone, but Ron
didn’t think Luna was likely to go around gossiping, especially if he made her promise not to. He
really wanted to talk to someone about it, and this was probably going to be his only opportunity.
It was a surprisingly easy decision to make.

‘You must promise not to tell anyone what we talk about,’ Ron stipulated.

‘Of course,’ Luna said, as if to think otherwise was ridiculous.

‘It… I found… someone killed a first year Gryffindor.’

Luna’s only reaction was a slight widening of her already protuberant eyes.

‘I found him in the Entrance Hall with the Dark Mark magically etched into the ceiling above
him,’ Ron continued.

‘How horrible,’ Luna said, barely a whisper. ‘How could someone do that?’

‘That’s what was bothering me,’ Ron said. ‘That and trying to figure out who could have done it.
Potter showed up a moment later…’

‘I don’t think he would do something like that,’ Luna interrupted.

‘I wasn’t…’ Ron began to protest that he wasn’t going to accuse Potter, but her blunt
observation raised another question in him. ‘Why?’

‘I can see auras,’ Luna answered. ‘His is tinged with darkness, I will admit, but at his core he
is a very caring and loving person. I do not think he would murder in cold blood.’

Ron frowned. ‘Potter? Loving? Caring? Really?’

Luna nodded. ‘His aura has been tainted by the darkness that has brushed his life, but his
strength of character is enough to keep it at bay. He is a remarkable person.’

‘So you fancy him too, huh?’ Ron mused, a little darkly.

Luna actually giggled. ‘Do not be silly Ronald,’ she chided him. ‘You know I do not.’

Ron flushed a little, but he let the moment pass. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to accuse Potter anyway.
I saw his face when he saw the boy and it was enough to convince me he wasn’t behind it, but I’d
bet my left testicle it was someone in Slytherin.’

Luna laughed. ‘Don’t be so sure,’ she said. ‘In times like these, anyone is a suspect.’

‘That’s a pleasant thought,’ Ron added.

Ron thought over everything Luna had said before it hit him. ‘Luna, you said you can see auras,
right? Well, can’t you use that to tell if people are under Imperious or something?’

‘No, I can only tell peoples moods and general personalities, not whether they are being
manipulated or not.’

‘Oh,’ Ron sounded disappointedly.

‘I could point out those most likely to be behind it though,’ Luna offered, ‘like those with
darker personalities. It wouldn’t be classed as solid evidence, but it could give you a basic idea
of who to watch.’

‘Yeah, that’d be bloody brilliant,’ Ron said excitedly.

Luna smothered a smile at his enthusiasm. ‘I’ll let you know then.’

‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure.’

Neither seemed to know what to say after that, so silence once more settled around them. Ron
felt better about everything. It helped to know that not even Luna understood her bizarre ability
and that he could finally do something to help Dumbledore catch the person or persons who had
murdered that poor innocent Gryffindor. It made him like less of a useless idiot and more like a
growing adult and a future member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Luna might still be a mystery to him, but he was beginning to think that she would always be,
and he was pretty sure that he didn’t mind a bit.

Harry’s first lesson with Professor Oniki was disappointing. Despite the aged wizard’s warning
that learning to manually close his siphon would be a long and arduous task, Harry hadn’t really
believed him. Now, after his lesson, Harry was forced to agree.

The lesson began with Professor Oniki once again giving him the now familiar warning, before
they plunged into the metaphorical pool, or rather, stuck their toes in. Before Harry could even
begin to think about learning to close up his siphon, he would have to learn how to access the
heightened sense of awareness required for the task. This, Professor Oniki told him, would be his
biggest challenge. Then Harry spent two hours sitting on the floor, legs crossed, and trying to
relax his awareness of everything. He didn’t get very far.

Thus, a disgruntled Harry Potter lay forlornly in Slytherin’s Secret Chamber, sprawled in bed
next to a slumbering Hermione, wondering how the only thing he really needed to master in less than
a day was the only thing he seemingly couldn’t. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating his aptitude a
little, but the point was valid.

Harry sighed. He knew he wouldn’t get an ounce of sleep tonight, and besides, he already had
something he needed to do – something he had promised himself he would do. That being so, he gently
eased out of bed, making sure not to disturb Hermione. He looked down on her as she slept,
marvelling at how wonderfully beautiful she looked when sleeping, and at his luck that such a woman
would fall in love with his damaged self. Bending a little, he kissed her softly on the nose.
Hermione stirred slightly, but after a few seconds fell back into a deeper sleep. Harry
straightened up and left the room, grabbing his discarded clothing on the way. He got dressed
quickly, forgoing his robe, and then slunk out of the hidden chamber with his Invisibility
Cloak.

He had some patrolling to do.

The absence of Harry’s body was what brought Hermione back to the land of the living. She rolled
over, her arm expecting to come down across his chest, but instead she found only empty space.
Opening her eyes a crack, Hermione peered out, looking for visual confirmation. She rolled onto her
back and raised a hand to rub at her sleep encrusted eyes. Then, with a small groan of protest, she
sat up and looked around.

The bedroom was empty.

‘Harry?’ she called, somewhat stupidly, still being half asleep.

No one answered.

As her sleep befuddled mind tried to process Harry’s absence, Hermione crawled sluggishly out of
the covers.

‘Harry?’ she tried again.

She slipped into a pair of slippers, not feeling awake enough to stand yet, and took several
deep breaths. Then she stood and stumbled her way over to the door.

Harry was sitting on the green sofa, head on the back of the seat and staring up at the writhing
snakes on the ceiling. Hermione waddled over in her bunny slippers and sat next to him. His eyes
were closed, but Hermione was sure he was awake.

‘Harry?’

‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Is it?’ Hermione asked.

‘Yeah.’ Harry stretched his hands over his head and yawned, opening his eyes.

‘You look like you haven’t slept a wink,’ Hermione observed.

‘That’s possible, I don’t remember,’ Harry said. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to think.
I might have fallen asleep, but I’m not sure. It’s been a long night. Feels like a thousands
nights, actually.’

‘How come you couldn’t sleep?’ Hermione said, leaning against him and putting her arm across his
chest.

‘It’s this business with my siphon. I need to get it under control, but it… I think it’ll be a
while before that’s a reality. It’s just so infuriating, having this power that I can’t control. I
feel like I’m its puppet, like the power is bigger than me.’

‘It’s not,’ Hermione countered. ‘You’ll master it. I know you will. I have faith in you, Harry.
If anyone can do it, it’s you.’

‘I hope so,’ Harry said. ‘Before I seriously hurt someone.’

‘That’s not all that’s bothering you, though, is it?’

Harry let out a breath, a smile quirking his lips. ‘You’re very perceptive, aren’t you?’

‘It’s a talent,’ Hermione said.

Harry laughed softly, and then sighed. ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it’s the
only thing that makes sense to me.’

‘And that is?’ Hermione pressed.

‘We have another Junior Death Eater,’ Harry said. ‘Or more than one.’

‘And you think he killed the boy? What makes you so sure?’

‘Who else could have done it? Nobody can get into Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing. Voldemort
only managed it last year because Dumbledore was out of action, and since then, the protections
have been fortified and made ten times stronger. It has to be an inside job. That means either a
professor or a student, and I seriously doubt any of our professors are responsible.’

‘So Voldemort has promoted another Death Eater son, and is using him to create chaos inside
Hogwarts, trying to get the school shut down.’ Hermione figured the rest out for herself. ‘I have
to say, it’s an almost fool proof plan. If Professor Dumbledore hadn’t had it hushed up, right now
parents would be intent on pulling their kids out of school, and the board of governors would be
meeting and trying to decide whether or not to shut Hogwarts down. If we have another killing, I
doubt even Professor Dumbledore will be able to convince the Minister for Magic to keep it quiet.
It’s only a matter of time at this point.’

‘Exactly,’ Harry said, smiling at how easily Hermione had caught onto his way of thinking. ‘So
we have to figure out who’s behind it, and soon, before they kill again.’

‘Have you told Professor Dumbledore your theory?’

‘I have,’ Harry replied, ‘but of course, it’s all speculation at this point. He can’t do
anything about it until we have some evidence.’

‘That’s true,’ Hermione agreed.

‘I’m pretty sure I know who’s behind it anyway,’ Harry said. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to figure
it out.’

‘Your dorm mates?’

‘Precisely.’

‘We should tell Draco and Ginny and Neville,’ Hermione proposed, ‘and make sure to watch them at
all times. They’ll slip up eventually.’

‘I agree,’ Harry said.

‘But,’ Hermione paused.

‘But what?’ Harry asked.

‘But, that can wait for a while, can’t it?’ Hermione looked saucily up at Harry, batting her
eyelashes.

Harry smiled at her and leant down to meet her lips.

The first study session between Draco and Ginny went pretty smoothly, which was something Draco
was exceedingly proud of. The desire to kiss and touch her plagued his mind, making it rather
difficult to concentrate on Potions, but he kept his wits about him and bluntly refused his
traitorous thoughts and sexual needs.

He was surprised to discover that Ginny wasn’t as bad at Potions as she had implied, but he
wasn’t going to correct her anytime soon. Whether she was aware of this or not, he was unsure, but
any time he had to spend with her he would cherish, and he wouldn’t argue with her about whatever
excuses she wanted to make to spend time with him.

Feeling happier than he had in months, Draco was hardly paying attention as he walked beside
Harry and Hermione to their next lesson, which was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Though not liking
to use the cliché, Draco was definitely walking on cloud nine.

‘What are you smiling about?’ Harry asked, shooting him a puzzled look.

Draco shook his head and answered evasively, ‘nothing.’

‘Well, whatever the reason - and I’m pretty sure I know what it is – I’m glad you’re feeling
better,’ Hermione added.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Draco hastily changed the subject, ‘so what’s going on with you?’

‘Harry was just telling me that his first meeting with Dumbledore is tonight,’ Hermione
answered.

‘Oh, whoopee,’ Draco drawled sarcastically, ‘more memories and useless info?’

Harry chuckled appreciatively. ‘Actually, he promised me that this time he would actually be
teaching me magic.’

‘We’ll see,’ Draco replied, making it clear he doubted it.

‘Either way, I’m sure whatever he has to say will be important,’ Hermione said.

‘I guess I’ll find out tonight.’

And so it was that Harry arrived at Dumbledore’s office at seven sharp. The old headmaster was
waiting for him, a space cleared in the center of the room. Harry shut the door behind him and then
stood looking at the wizard.

‘Good Evening, Harry,’ Dumbledore greeted him courteously.

‘Sir.’

‘Well then, lets begin, shall we?’ Dumbledore produced his wand.

Harry gave his arm a shake and his wand appeared in his hand instantly, slipping free from its
placeholder up his sleeve. Dumbledore smiled at this and nodded his head approvingly.

‘So, what are you going to teach me?’ Harry asked, curious.

‘We will begin with some advanced defensive magic,’ Dumbledore replied.

‘Advanced defensive magic?’ Harry made a face. ‘Don’t you think offensive magic would be
better?’

‘What good is offensive magic if you’re already dead?’ Dumbledore returned evenly.

‘Point,’ Harry conceded, ‘but I already know a lot of good defensive spells.’

‘Ah,’ Dumbledore shook his wand at him, ‘but this isn’t any ordinary defensive magic. Perhaps I
should have said: I will be instructing you in the use of extremely original, never before taught
to anyone, highly advanced defensive magic. Would that have piqued your interest?’

Harry shook his head in wonder. ‘It might have,’ Harry said, refusing to give ground, ‘but, what
exactly do you mean? Never before taught to anyone? How then do you know it? Wait, no, I think I
already know. You’re going to teach me spells you invented, aren’t you?’

‘Quite right,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Satisfied?’

‘…Sure.’ Harry surrendered.

‘Then we begin,’ Dumbledore said, once more brandishing his wand. ‘Defend yourself!’

Two hours later, both wizards sat, Dumbledore now behind his desk. Harry sat with his head back
against the arm of his chair, legs dangling over the other side.

‘Now then Harry,’ Dumbledore said, getting comfortable, ‘I have something to discuss with
you.’

‘Oh?’ Harry sat up straighter.

‘You remember, you mentioned a locket to me the last time you were here that was similar to the
one worn by Merope Gaunt? I asked Sirius to have a look for it, but his search has come up with
nothing so far. However, I have my suspicions that it might have been stolen.’

‘Stolen? How?’ Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.

‘By Mundungus Fletcher,’ Dumbledore replied. ‘Sirius reported his thieving to me a few months
ago, but as you can imagine, your godfather wasn’t at all bothered by it. Now it appears that may
come back to haunt us. I’ve put the word out that I want to talk to Mundungus, but the man can be
slippery, and he’ll probably be hard to track down.’

‘Why are you telling me all this?’ Harry asked suspiciously.

Dumbledore smiled. ‘In the interest of preserving what little trust you have towards me, I felt
it best to keep you appraised of all things concerning Voldemort.’

Harry studied Dumbledore closely, looking for any sign of falsehood. He found none. ‘Thank you,’
Harry said, rather stiffly.

‘You’re welcome,’ Dumbledore said, reaching into his desk for something. He came up with a slip
of parchment and placed it on the desk. ‘Take this and keep it safe. Whenever I wish to meet with
you, for lessons or otherwise, I will write the time and date on a separate piece of parchment and
they will magically appear on yours.’

Harry stood up and stretched, then picked up the blank parchment. He studied it for a second,
before sticking it in his pocket. ‘Right. That’s it then?’

‘It is,’ Dumbledore said.

‘Goodnight then, I guess,’ Harry moved towards the door.

‘Goodnight Harry.’

Harry glanced back once to find Dumbledore watching him, and then opened the door and left the
office.



16. Chapter Sixteen
-------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** This chapter is a lot shorter than my usual ones. This is because I wanted
to have something to post for you guys when I went up to see my brother (for the lucky sod has the
Internet) and this was all I could do. It would have been longer, but I’ve been ill and who wants
to write when your head throbbing like a drum. On the plus side, I will hopefully have the Internet
back sometime after Christmas, which will mean more regular updates. Hazzah! Also, I have posted a
new Harry Potter story. It’s a time travel story (I’ve always wanted to write one of them, mainly
because I’ve yet to find one I actually like) with my own little twist on it. It’s already got
several chapters to it, so I implore you all to go check it out and I hope you enjoy it. It should
be up either today or tommorow.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Sixteen
That night, Harry found the second victim.

He stepped free of the spinning gargoyle and began down the corridor. Idly, he noticed the vague
form lying in the middle of the passage, but he couldn’t discern what it was until he got nearer.
He was a few feet away when he noticed it was a body and was staring down at it when he realised it
was a girl. She was roughly his age, Harry saw, probably from his year. She had neck length blonde
hair and a cherubic face, which had gone lifeless and dead. He flicked his wrist and his wand
instantly fell into his tight grip.

If the assailant was near, Harry wanted to be ready. He quickly scanned the area, looking for
anything out of ordinary that might give the enemy (or enemies) away. He found nothing in his
direct vicinity, but that didn’t make him any less wary. There was no sign of the Dark Mark, which
meant either the assailant felt it was no longer necessary (Harry doubted it – psychopathic zealots
always left their mark), or he was interrupted before the mark could be cast. Harry thought the
last most likely, and probably by him.

Harry knelt by the body of the girl, who looked vaguely familiar, and lifted her up and into his
arms. He didn’t like how this left him defenceless, but it couldn’t be helped. He then proceeded
back the way he came, towards the headmaster’s office. He spoke the password, the gargoyle moved
aside, and Harry climbed the steps to the office. He didn’t knock on the door, but just pressed his
shoulder against the wood and eased in.

Dumbledore turned from examining Fawkes and went still when the spotted the body in Harry’s
arms. Weary lines of sadness that hadn’t existed in the headmasters face only a few short days ago
grew more prominent as Dumbledore sagged and raised a hand to his forehead. Harry only waited,
giving the old man time to gather himself.

‘Through here, Harry,’ Dumbledore finally said, indicating his private chambers. Harry followed
him into the room. Unlike the main chamber, the walls of this room remained free of the portraits
of former headmasters and –mistresses. A large collection of books filled out several bookshelves
that lined the room. A large comfy looking mahogany framed bed dominated the room, decked in golden
sheets. When Harry looked up, he had the impression of looking into a starry sky, cloudless and
infinitely black, with speckles of white light winking intermittently. ‘Place her on the bed.’

Dumbledore was grave as Harry did so.

The two wizards retreated to the main chamber and sat down. Dumbledore looked frailer than ever,
like he had no idea what to do next. Harry took pity on the man.

‘I found her in the corridor, but there was no Dark Mark, so I’m guessing I scared off whoever
did it. I had a quick look around, but I couldn’t find any trace of him. I recognise the girl, but
I’m not sure exactly what her name is. I think she belongs to Hufflepuff, though. And she’s in my
year. What are we going to do?’

‘I must inform Rufus Scrimgeour,’ Dumbledore replied tiredly.

‘Must you?’ Harry leant back in his chair. ‘I mean, we both know what he’ll do. He’ll have to
report the attack, and he’ll no doubt accuse me of killing her, seeing as I found her.’

‘What would you have me do?’

Harry sighed. ‘Honestly, I don’t know,’ Harry replied truthfully. ‘Anyway, that’s not what I
meant. I mean, what are we going to do about these attacks?’

‘I’ve told you. Until we have some kind of clue, we can’t do anything,’ Dumbledore said, hating
himself for having to speak the terrible words.

‘That’s not good enough,’ Harry argued. ‘I’ve already started to patrol the corridors myself,
but I’m just one guy. I suppose if you report the attack, you could get some Aurors to act as
guards. Then again, I’m not so sure I’d trust them enough to let them into Hogwarts, if it was up
to me. They could easily be under Imperious.’

‘You see what Voldemort does,’ Dumbledore said softly, ‘leading even his most steadfast
adversaries into paranoia.’

‘It’s kinda my personality, as well,’ Harry pointed out. ‘I don’t trust easily under normal
circumstances. Never mind this. You trying to tell me he doesn’t get to you?’

Dumbledore sighed heavily. ‘Unfortunately, you’re right. Voldemort’s mere existence is enough to
turn people against each other in fear. With everything that has happened, I cannot say in full
confidence that I am immune to this. The desertion of Severus Snape has shaken me more than I like
to admit. I trusted that man, and yet…’

‘Who do you trust now?’ Harry asked, interested.

Dumbledore looked at Harry pointedly.

‘Right,’ Harry said, ‘but other than me?’ The headmaster’s unswerving faith in him was somewhat
uncomfortable to Harry, but he was unsure as to why that was so.

‘Minerva McGonagall,’ Dumbledore answered at once, ‘Molly Weasley, Sirius Black, Remus
Lupin.’

‘The inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix, basically,’ Harry filled in, interrupting.

‘Correct.’

‘Could you get them to come in? Act as guards?’ Harry proposed.

‘I could, but that would vastly deplete the Order’s resources on the outside,’ Dumbledore
said.

Harry cursed under his breath. ‘Well, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes, because I have no idea,’
Harry said. ‘Rest assured, whatever you decide, I’ll continue to patrol the corridors at night, and
I’ll see if I can get a little help as well.’

‘I expected no less from you,’ Dumbledore said fondly.

Harry tried to ignore the affection in the old mans voice as he rose to leave.

‘I will inform the Minister, Harry.’ Harry stopped and looked back at his headmaster. ‘I have no
choice in the matter, but I thought you would appreciate the warning. He will probably want to
speak with you. Best be prepared.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘Thanks.’

‘Thank you, Harry.’

Again, the warmth in the old wizards voice caused a war of emotions inside Harry, and to avoid
saying something he would possibly regret, Harry nodded and left the room.



As both Harry and Dumbledore predicted, Rufus Scrimgeour publicised the attacks within Hogwarts
the very next day. The Daily Prophet was released with several pictures of the first two victims
and a five-page story on the subject. The second victim was Hannah Abbot. When Harry read her name
in the paper, he remembered seeing the girl during the sorting and how happy she was. He’d never
really talked to her, but that little memory he had of her was enough to cause rage to boil inside
him, fuelling his need to find out who was behind all the attacks.

That wasn’t all though. The Minister for Magic had latched onto the only suspect he had, and so,
Harry was escorted to an abandoned classroom later that same day for an “interview”. Harry knew it
was really an interrogation. Dumbledore was supposed to be overseeing the “interview”, but Harry
wasn’t surprised to find the aged headmaster absent.

‘Potter, take a seat,’ Rufus Scrimgeour instructed, gesturing to an empty wooden chair. Harry
entered the room casually, but declined the offered seat. It was a small act of defiance, but it
left him feeling infinitely satisfied. The Minister narrowed his eyes, but didn’t comment. He
motioned to his left. ‘This is Matilda House; she will be documenting our little interview. Just
ignore her. Let’s get started, shall we?’ He again gestured to the chair.

Again, Harry ignored it.

‘So, what do you want to know?’ Harry said pre-emptively. ‘Wait, before you start accusing me,
let me just point out. I have two extremely credible witnesses for both of the attacks. First of
all, and I’m aware she would be considered biased, but I was with my very intelligent and
tremendously beautiful girlfriend during the entire night of the first attack (and no I won’t tell
you how). Then, and this is the real treat, during the second attack I was with Albus Dumbledore,
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the International Confederation
of Wizards, and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot! Oh and let’s not forget his Order of Merlin,
first class, shall we?’

‘What’s your point, Potter?’ Scrimgeour demanded.

‘My point is why don’t you stop wasting time sniffing around me like an overactive bitch in
season and go catch the real bad guys! I mean, I know I’m gorgeous, but really, it’s hardly
appropriate.’

The Minister for Magic went as red as a beetroot, his chest swelling with anger. Harry was
reminded very much of his Uncle Vernon – minus the silly moustache.

‘How dare you speak to me that way?’ Rufus Scrimgeour roared.

‘Why, am I supposed to be impressed by your title?’ Harry retorted. ‘I’d have a better time with
that if you weren’t so obviously incompetent. I think I prefer Fudge, and that’s saying something.
Why is it that when situations get tough, the public is all too happy to hand over the reigns to
the first bumbling idiot willing to do the job? All you want is a scapegoat. You’re not at all
interested in getting to the bottom of this, just as long as you can point at someone, in this case
me, and say you got the guy, all to cover your own idiotic ass. Please, I have more respect for
Voldemort than you. At least he doesn’t go around pretending to be something he’s not.’

‘Ah, so you admit it!’ Scrimgeour said triumphantly. He turned to his note taker eagerly, ‘did
you get that?’

‘Forget it,’ Harry said. ‘You can accuse me all you want, but you have no proof. Fact is, I’m
the only one capable of figuring this out, just like I’m the only one that can take down Voldemort.
So unless you have some un-presented evidence, I’m out of here.’

‘Don’t even think about leaving.’

‘And how are you going to stop me?’ Harry spread his hands for emphasis. ‘Arrest me? Charge me
with what? Insulting the Minister for Magic? I don’t think you can arrest someone for that,
especially when they’re telling the truth. I only agreed to come to this damn “interview” because
Dumbledore requested that I humour you. And another thing, I’m pretty sure Dumbledore won’t be
pleased when he realises you intentionally told him the wrong time just to get a few extra minutes
alone with me. All in all, you pretty much screwed yourself here, don’t you think? Now, I’ll take
my bow,’ Harry bowed sarcastically, ‘and I’m off. Later *Minister*. Keep up the *swell*
work.’

Harry slammed the door behind him.

Rufus Scriemgour turned to face his bemused secretary, his face mottled red, mouth wide in what
can only be described as jaw dropping, indisputable shock.



Draco Malfoy was in stitches, clutching his sides, his hair disarrayed due to his uncontrollable
laughter.

Hermione didn’t look as amused.

‘I can’t believe you spoke to the Minister for Magic that way!’

‘Oh, come on,’ Harry said, grinning a little also, ‘you can’t tell me you agree with his
policies. Sure, he’s arrested a bunch of guys for supposedly being Death Eaters, but I’d wager my
own left testicle that they’re innocent.’

That only added to Draco’s giggles.

‘Would you shut up?’ Hermione snapped at him.

Draco stopped only long enough to cast a glance her way, and then dissolved into laughter again.
Harry chuckled as well.

‘It’s not funny!’ Hermione let out a large huff of annoyance. ‘You’re in serious trouble here
Harry. The Minister for Magic suspects you of being in league with Voldemort and the more you
antagonise him, the more he’ll stick to his views. You have to try and reason with him. Insulting
him is most certainly not the solution.’

‘Hermione,’ Harry said in his best calming tone, ‘you know I would never intentionally put
myself in danger. If I thought for even a millisecond that Scrimgeour actually had a shred of
evidence, however tangible, then I would obviously try to reason with him. But the fact is, he
doesn’t, and he never will. He can’t!’

‘But why would you…’

‘Hermione,’ Harry interrupted, taking her hand, ‘there’s only so much accusation a guy can take
before he snaps back. It probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but I couldn’t help it. The
man’s a total buffoon. I wouldn’t trust him with cleaning my shoes, let alone running a government.
He’s a typical military man – running half cocked into any situation that looks even remotely
plausible, without even a thought that he might be wrong, and trust me, he’s wrong a hell of lot
more than he is right. It’s why he was elected as minister, sad fact that it is. People feel more
secure when someone is actually doing something, even if it’s completely in the wrong.’

‘I still think you shouldn’t have said those things,’ Hermione said. ‘He doesn’t strike me as
the kind of person who would just let something like that go.’

‘I agree with you,’ Harry replied, ‘but either way, I’m his prime suspect. Besides, it was
*really* therapeutic.’

Draco gave another little laugh, nodding his head knowingly and leaning back in his chair.
Hermione looked between him and Harry, shaking her head in exasperation, and then gave a little
smile of her own. ‘I suppose he deserves it,’ she admitted. ‘The Minister is supposed to be
impartial, after all, and he clearly has it in for you.’

‘If not before,’ Draco interjected, ‘he certainly does now.’ He laughed again.

Hermione shook her head again. ‘I don’t like it, but I can’t argue with you about that. He
really does sound like a terrible Minister.’

‘That’s my girl,’ Harry said, leaning over to give her a kiss. ‘And don’t worry about a thing.
Trust me, I have nothing to fear from Rufus “where’s-my-brain” Scrimgeour.’

‘I hope so.’



17. Chapter Seventeen
---------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** I’M BACK! YAY! The Internet is mine again! Oh the wondrous all consuming
joy of the Internet, how I missed thee. Aaaanyway…this turned out to be a rather depressing
chapter. Sorry! Hope you guys enjoy it despite this fact, or perhaps because of it, for those angst
lovers out there. I’m back! Yipeee!
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Seventeen
Another weekend arrived for the students of Hogwarts, the weather mirroring the atmosphere that
had fallen over the school - cold and bleak. With the publication of the Death Eater attacks inside
Hogwarts, many children had already been pulled from school, and those that remained feared to walk
the corridors alone. The board of governors had already met to discuss the fate of Hogwarts and
only Dumbledore’s appearance had saved it from being closed.

On the outside, things were just as grim. Voldemort and his supporters continued to saw discord
and terror into the hearts of the wizarding community with attacks on some of the most powerful and
influential families. Not to mention several disappearances, with nothing left in their wake except
buildings in ruins and only the Dark Mark to tell the story.

As Harry, Hermione, Draco, Ginny and Neville sat down for breakfast on Saturday morning, none of
them were surprised by the headline of the Dailey Prophet:
**MASS BREAKOUT AT AZKABAN**
‘It was only a matter of time,’ Harry said, putting the paper down. ‘Anyone with half a brain
could tell you that when it comes to allegiances, it’s a no-brainer that the Dementors would choose
Voldemort. I said as much to Dumbledore when Snape and Zabini ended up there.’

‘Why didn’t he pull some strings, have them moved someplace else?’ Ginny asked, nervously
glancing at the black and white photograph of a smirking Blaise Zabini. She vividly remembered his
slanting eyes locking with hers, conveying hatred and a smug and sick delight in her torment. She
could practically hear his sardonic laughter in her ears.

‘Where would he have moved them?’ Harry replied. ‘Azkaban is the most effective prison the
wizarding world has. If it failed to hold them, no place else would have stood a chance. Fact is
Dumbledore had no choice. We both knew it was only a matter of time until this happened. I only
hoped it would hold out longer.’

‘I won’t let him get near you.’ Draco spoke before anything else could be said.

Ginny looked up at him and smiled. ‘I know.’

‘Are you okay Neville?’ Hermione asked, her face a blanket of worry.

Harry glanced over at the silent boy. He was clutching his copy of the Prophet with a firm,
white knuckled grip, and his features reflected a loathing of a thousand souls.

‘Who is that?’ Ginny said as she leant closer and peered at the paper. ‘Bellatrix Lestrange? She
sure looks pleasant. Do you know her?’

Harry didn’t need to be told anymore. He knew all about how the Lestrange’s had tortured
Neville’s parents into insanity.

‘We’ve never met.’ Neville spoke in barely a whisper.

‘She…’

‘Why don’t you hand me that paper before you tear it to shreds?’ Harry interrupted Draco. ‘Be a
waste for you to wreck it before you can read any of the other interesting articles.’

‘Yeah,’ Neville said, completely missing Harry’s thinly veiled sarcasm, his gaze never leaving
the page. ‘Whatever. I’m not hungry, anyway.’ Then he slowly handed over the paper and stood up to
leave. ‘I’ll see you in class.’

‘What was that about?’ Draco asked, raised eyebrow and all.

‘I don’t think it’d be pleasant if Neville knew of your relation to Lestrange,’ Harry explained.
‘Especially not at this time.’

‘Why?’ Hermione and Ginny asked at the same time.

‘That’s Neville’s business,’ Harry said. ‘If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. Otherwise,
I’d leave it alone.’

While Harry and Hermione settled down in Slytherin’s Chamber, Draco and Ginny met for another
study session in the Head’s common room. Draco couldn’t have been more pleased with how things were
going (well, maybe he could, but he wasn’t a miracle worker) with himself and Ginny. Their
relationship was seemingly back on track and ready to take flight again. He was almost thankful
towards his former friend, the now Death Eater Blaise Zabini, for escaping Azkaban and giving him a
reason to show just how dedicated he was to her. Almost.

Ginny had smiled at his declaration. She had even squeezed his hand under the table. Marvel at
that for a moment people.

The tutoring was going brilliantly as well. She was a quick study, his Ginny. The ease with
which they eased into their respective roles, the way she beamed at him when she finally began to
pick things up, even her mere presence was enough to brighten his mood. He was very much aware that
he had been more than moody lately, but it was all a thing of the past now. He knew, with a great
certainty, that his relationship with the fiery haired Weasley was saved. And that’s what almost
cost him.

As this particular session was coming to close and they left behind Potions, Ginny brought up
the topic that had headlined the mornings Daily Prophet.

‘Are you nervous?’ Ginny asked, very out of the blue. ‘I mean… about the breakout.’

‘Are you?’

‘I’d be lying if I said no,’ Ginny admitted. ‘It’s strange. You’d think I would be more afraid
of You-Know-Who – don’t get me wrong, I am – but whenever I think about what’s to come, I always
see *his* face. And I hear his laugh.’

‘Blaise?’

‘I suppose it’s because of what happened,’ Ginny went on. ‘He was the one who dragged me up into
the spotlight. You-Know-Who probably wouldn’t have even noticed me if he tripped over me. The only
interest he had in me was through your reaction, I think. But Blaise took so much delight in it,
tormenting you and me; he somehow became scarier than even You-Know-Who. Does that make sense?’

‘Yeah,’ Draco said. ‘Voldemort is a terrifying figure for so many, but he’s just that. A figure.
Most people can’t really relate to him. Blaise, however, he was a student, just like you. It’s no
surprise he seems more real, and thus scarier.’

‘I know I won’t get to sleep tonight,’ Ginny confessed. ‘Just the thought of him out there. It
terrifies me.’

‘Like I said, I won’t let him near you,’ Draco repeated, reaching out and this time taking her
hand. She squeezed it in return.

‘Thank you.’

It was the sincerity that did it – what pushed Draco over the edge. Before he even knew what he
was doing, he was leaning forward, going in for the kiss. Just before their lips would touch, Ginny
shied away. He ended up kissing her jaw.

The silence that fell was deafening. I know it’s a cliché, but really, if ever that statement
was true, it was right at that very moment.

‘Sorry,’ Draco said softly, his head lowered.

‘No,’ Ginny said, ‘it…’ With a sigh, she began to pack up her things. ‘I think I better go.
Thank you for… helping me. I…’ Another sigh. ‘Night.’

Draco didn’t even try to stop her.

Ginny fled. Not from Draco, but from the situation. There was no getting around it. She realised
- with a certain amount of shame - that Draco was probably right now beating himself up over his
action, but as already stated; it wasn’t Draco she was running from. She just wasn’t ready yet. Not
for *that*.

However, instead of explaining this, she ran. So like her. She couldn’t just reaffirm the
situation. No, she had to run away, leaving Draco to think he had done something wrong, when he
hadn’t. Not really. He was a red-blooded male, after all, and she was – perhaps not consciously,
but on looking back on things, maybe a little – sending him signals. Except when things like that
happened, Ginny had a tendency to shut down, her brain ceasing to function with a suddenness that
was shocking.

All she could do was flee.

And as fate would have it, right into Neville Longbottom.

‘Ginny?’ Neville asked as she entered the Gryffindor common room. ‘Are you okay? You look all
flustered.’

‘I’m fine,’ Ginny replied quickly. Her mind was already beginning to re-engage. ‘Just… realised
I had some extra homework to do. For tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow is Sunday,’ Neville pointed out with a quizzical look.

‘Right,’ Ginny said, ‘I know.’

‘Then,’ Neville began.

‘I meant I wanted to get it done before tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ Neville rubbed the back of his neck nervously. ‘Hey, weren’t you studying with Malfoy
tonight?’

‘No,’ Ginny replied, possibly a little too forcefully. ‘Look, I really better get going.
Homework to do.’

‘Yeah,’ Neville said softly, putting two and two together. ‘Okay.’

Ginny was already halfway up to the girl’s dormitory, and thus didn’t see the dawning look of
realisation on Neville’s face.

In what was becoming an all too common occurrence, Hermione rolled over to find an empty space
beside her. Sitting up, she glanced around the bedchamber. Harry was nowhere to be found. Slipping
on her bunny slippers, she made her way out into the main chamber. Taking a new twist, that was
empty also. Worry began to set in.

‘Harry?’ Hermione called.

No answer.

Harry was out patrolling the cold Hogwarts corridors, safely hidden under his Invisibility
Cloak.

The way he saw it, someone had to do it. So every night since the last attack, he had
reluctantly left Hermione in bed and ventured forth under cover of cloak to protect the halls of
Hogwarts. So far he’d had no luck, but at least no one else had been attacked.

He normally got back to Slytherin’s Chamber before Hermione awoke to discover his night
excursions. She would find him sitting alone in the main chamber and believed he was just suffering
from insomnia, brought on by the stress of recent weeks. He didn’t like lying to her, but telling
the truth could lead to more problems. She would no doubt want to help, but that meant putting her
in danger, and Harry just couldn’t allow that.

It wasn’t that he felt she couldn’t handle herself. It was just, if anything happened to her…
well, he didn’t like to think about that. To be honest, he didn’t know what he would do. That was
part of the problem. He might loose control, and with his “problem”, that could be dangerous. Not
just to himself, but to the entire school as well.

He was just passing by the kitchens when he spotted a figure up ahead, slinking along the walls
and hiding behind the various statues as he went. The figure was wearing long black robes with the
hood pulled up over his head – Death Eater. Pulling out his wand, he silently eased himself closer
and closer to the figure until he was sure he was close enough. Then he whipped off the cloak and
grabbed the figure by the shoulder. He slammed him up against the wall and jabbed his wand under
the Death Eaters jaw.

‘Ow!’ The Death Eater exclaimed.

‘Who are you?’ Harry growled.

‘What? Potter?’

Harry frowned, finally recognising the voice. He ripped the hood down, but kept his wand firmly
in place.

‘Weasley?’

Ron Weasley glared back at him. ‘Who did you expect? A house elf?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Do you mind?’ Ron looked down at the wand pressing into his jugular.

‘Actually,’ Harry said, not letting up a bit, ‘no, I don’t.’

‘What are you playing at?’ Ron snapped. ‘You going to kill me? Are you a Dark Wizard after
all?’

‘Me? Have you looked in the mirror lately?’

‘What?’

‘You’re dressed like a Death Eater,’ Harry pointed out.

‘No I’m not!’ Ron argued.

Harry glanced down at his black cloak and Ron followed his gaze. They locked eyes again. Harry
gave him a sceptical look. Ron grinned ruefully.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I think there’s been a *little* misunderstanding. I’m not a Death Eater!
I’m being stealthy.’ Harry gave him another look. ‘I’m serious. Come on. You think I’m a Death
Eater?’

Harry sighed. ‘No,’ he admitted, finally lowering his wand.

‘Thank you,’ Ron gasped, rubbing his neck.

‘If you’re not a Death Eater,’ Harry began, ‘then what the hell are you doing out here in the
middle of the night. And don’t say being stealthy.’

‘I’m trying to find out who’s behind these attacks,’ Ron said.

‘Huh. Same here, actually,’ Harry declared. ‘Though you do realise you’re more likely to be the
victim than anything else, right?’

‘That’s were the stealth part comes in,’ Ron boasted.

‘Hate to break it to you,’ Harry said, ‘but you’re about as stealthy as a Mountain Troll.’

‘And you’re any better?’ Ron argued. ‘You’re not even wearing dark colours!’

‘Yet I still managed to sneak up on you, didn’t I?’

Ron rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. ‘You got lucky.’

‘Right,’ Harry said dismissively. ‘Anyway, I’m not here to chat. I’ve got a job to do. You
should go back to your bed.’

‘What? You can’t tell me what… hey, did you hear that?’

‘As a matter of fact,’ Harry said, looking back the way he had come. ‘I did.’

‘Let’s go.’

Together, the unlikely duo took off at a run down the corridor, the sounds of a scuffle leading
them. As they neared the end of the passage, a sound like a car backfiring reached them, and then a
bright flash of crimson light. Harry doubled his speed and Ron followed suit. They rounded the
corner.

Four hooded figures surrounded a prone figure. One of them pointed his wand threateningly
downwards. Skull masks stood out from under hoods.

‘Hey!’ Ron yelled accusingly.

The four hooded figures – Death Eaters if Harry had ever seen them – turned sharply. A moments
pause - and then they ran. Harry didn’t have time to stop and berate Ron for being an idiot. He
immediately gave chase, calling back over his shoulder: ‘Check if he’s okay!’

He didn’t stop to see if Weasley followed the order. Harry chased them all the way up to the
Entrance Hall, flinging curses at their backs. They aimed back at him occasionally, but he easily
dodged their attacks. As Harry went to follow them down into the Slytherin Dungeons, one of the
Death Eaters turned to face him. Caught off guard, Harry was unable to raise his wand quick enough
to perform a spell. Instead, an intense white light emitting from the tip of the Death Eaters wand
blinded him, finally putting a stop to the chase. He had to shield his eyes it was that intense,
and when he finally could open them again, the Death Eaters had all vanished.

Not wasting a second, he removed his Marauder’s Map and scanned the Slytherin Dungeons for signs
of life. What he found was more disturbing than even the concept of Death Eaters inside Hogwarts.
The map revealed nothing in the corridors, except a tiny dot for himself, and then Ron Weasley and
the Death Eaters would be victim, Justin Finch-Fletchley.

When Harry returned to the scene of the crime, he still hadn’t been able to figure out how the
Death Eaters had eluded him, not to mention the Marauder’s Map! In all the time he had been in
possession of the map, it had never failed him, not even once. So why had it now? Did the Death
Eaters somehow manage to Apparate outside of Hogwarts? Or did they have some way to avoid
detection? Either way, it wasn’t good news.

‘They got away?’ Ron asked, looking up at Harry from his position on his knees before the
horizontal Hufflepuff.

Harry didn’t even bother replying. He couldn’t even gather the energy to be sarcastic. ‘Is he
okay?’ he asked instead.

‘As far as I can tell,’ Ron replied. ‘Just unconscious. Why do you think they didn’t kill
him?’

‘Use your eyes,’ Harry said, pointing at Justin’s right hand. ‘He’s got his wand out. That means
he saw them coming. They must have just stunned him, but they would have killed him if we hadn’t
interrupted them.’

‘So what do we do?’ Ron asked.

‘That’s for Dumbledore to decide,’ Harry said.

‘Let me guess, you want me to go and get him?’

Harry thought about it. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’ll go. You stay here and keep guard. Don’t even blink.
And keep your wand out and raised. Be ready for anything.’

‘I’m not an idiot,’ Ron replied tartly.

‘If you say so.’

Ron growled low in his throat, but kept the peace.

‘I’ll be quick,’ Harry said as he started to leave.

‘Hey,’ Ron called as Harry neared the end of the corridor, ‘what do I do if Justin wakes
up?’

‘He won’t.’

‘If he does?’

‘Keep him quiet and calm, and make sure he doesn’t leave before we can talk to him.’

Ron nodded in agreement and understanding.

Harry turned to go again.

‘Potter!’

Harry stopped abruptly and turned again, beginning to get annoyed, but refusing to show it.
‘What?’

‘I still don’t like you,’ Ron said.

Harry didn’t even deign to respond.

‘Ass,’ Ron muttered, but he smiled as he said it.

Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak once he was around the corner and out of Weasleys sight.
Then he ran, light footed as always, straight up to the Headmaster’s Chambers. Time was crucial.
The longer he left Ron and the Hufflepuff alone, the more likely someone was to come along and
discover them. Filch, for example. He didn’t even stop to say the password, but called out before
he reached the stone gargoyle. He just about managed to squeeze through the gap and then took three
steps at a time all the way to top of the staircase, removing his cloak as he went. Here he found
the door to the Headmaster’s Chamber locked, even against his best charms. Dumbledore was getting
cautious. With growing urgency, Harry started to bang on the door.

It took Dumbledore longer than Harry was comfortable with, but eventually the old wizard opened
the door.

‘There was another attack,’ Harry said, before the Headmaster could speak, ‘but we managed to
avoid a fatality this time. You better come and make sure the victim doesn’t talk, or we’ll have
serious trouble with Rufus and the board of governors.’

Dumbledore only took a moment to process it all, then replied, ‘of course. Take me to him
immediately.’

They started down the stairs, Harry leading. ‘There’s more,’ Harry said.

‘Tell me everything.’

‘I was out patrolling – like I said I would – and I bumped into Ron Weasley. Seems he had the
same idea and was trying to stop another murder. He was dressed like a Death Eater, minus the mask,
but I think it’s more of an unfortunate coincidence than because he is secretly one of them. I told
him it was dangerous to be out roaming the corridors without even a means to conceal himself and
that he should go back to his dormitory. He didn’t want to, but before I could press the matter, we
heard a commotion coming from the end of the corridor. As we approached the corner, a red light
flashed. I’m guessing a stunning spell. We found four figures – dressed as Death Eaters, masks and
all – surrounding an incapacitated figure.’

‘Students, do you think?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘From what I could tell, they had the right build,’ Harry said.

‘Mmm,’ Dumbledore hummed concernedly. ‘Continue.’

‘One of them was about to finish it, but Weasley shouted and got their attention. They ran and I
followed. I told Weasley to guard the victim. I chased them all the way to the Entrance Hall and
was just about to follow them into the Slytherin Dungeons when one of them turned and fired this
spell in my direction. I’ve never seen a spell like it. It was just this enormous light. It filled
the entire corridor and near blinded me. When I could see again, they had all vanished.’

‘Someone has been teaching them tricks,’ Dumbledore mused.

‘I’d say so,’ Harry said. ‘Here’s the most bizarre thing. I had my father’s map with me, and
when I checked it - to see who else was in the corridor - it was empty, except for Weasley, the
victim and myself. That’s never happened before. So yeah, I’d say someone has been teaching them
lots of new tricks.’

‘How to avoid magical detection?’

‘It’s possible, isn’t it?’ Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

‘It is,’ Dumbledore replied. ‘Though it is considered illegal, by the Ministry’s law, to do
so.’

‘That won’t stop them.’

Nothing more was said until they reached the scene of the crime.

‘Sir,’ Ron greeted, lowering his wand.

‘Mr. Weasley,’ Dumbledore returned, ‘thank you for keeping watch. Your father would be
proud.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Now, please stand back,’ Dumbledore said, while kneeling next to the unconscious body of Justin
Finch-Fletchley. ‘*Enervate!*’

‘Uh,’ Justin moaned as he regained consciousness.

‘Justin, you alright?’ Ron asked, leaning over worriedly.

‘Ron?’ Justin groaned, sitting up and blinking groggily.

‘Mr. Finch-Fletchley,’ Dumbledore spoke in his reassuring tone of voice, ‘can you hear me?’

‘Professor?’ Justin blinked again, looking around at them all. ‘Potter?’

‘Do you remember what happened?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘I was…’ A sudden blush crept upon his features.

‘Don’t be afraid to tell the truth,’ Dumbledore said, ‘all usual consequences shall be
forfeited. I just need to know what happened.’

‘Oh.’ Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing. ‘I was meeting up with a girl… to…
erm… study. She said I shouldn’t walk back alone, but I said it would be fine. I never thought I
would be attacked. I heard them coming, so I pulled out my wand and attacked first. I must have
surprised them, but I was outnumbered. I think it was a stunner. That’s the last thing I
remember.’

‘Nothing else?’

‘They were dressed as Death Eaters,’ Justin remembered, ‘but it couldn’t have been real Death
Eaters, right?’

‘I wouldn’t rule out anything when it concerns Voldemort,’ Harry said, speaking for the first
time.

That brought Justin’s attention once more back to Harry. ‘What are you doing here Potter?’

‘Saving your life,’ Harry replied.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Harry has been patrolling the corridors as a safety measure,’ Dumbledore said. ‘However, I
would like to keep that, and the attack a secret for now. It would only increase tensions within
the wizarding community, and seeing as no one came to any real harm, I don’t see any point in
reporting the attack.’

‘Sir?’ Justin gaped at him. ‘I was assaulted! Nearly murdered!’

‘I understand that Justin,’ Dumbledore spoke quietly, but with force. ‘Now, do you understand
what these attacks are doing to our world? Voldemort is a master at creating chaos and sowing
discord. These attacks are just one example of this. If you go against my wishes and report this
unfortunate incident, you will only be helping Voldemort. Do you want that?’

Justin lowered his head. ‘No, sir.’

‘Then can I trust that this will remain between the four of us?’ Dumbledore directed this at Ron
as well.

‘Of course, sir,’ Ron replied immediately.

‘Justin?’

With a sigh, ‘yes, sir.’

‘Thank you.’ Dumbledore climbed to his feet. ‘Harry, would you please escort Mr. Finch-Fletchley
and Mr. Weasley back to their common rooms?’

‘Sure.’

Dumbledore gave him a nod of thanks, before turned and pulling out his wand.

‘Come on,’ Harry said, giving Weasley and Justin a commanding look.

‘What’s he…’ Justin began.

‘I said, come on,’ Harry repeated.

‘But…’

Harry gave the curious Hufflepuff a quelling look. Justin sighed again and reluctantly followed.
As it was closest, they came to the Hufflepuff dormitory first.

‘How come you get special treatment?’ Justin demanded, rounding on Harry at the door.
‘Dumbledore doesn’t seem at all worried that you might get hurt.’

‘That’s because I can handle myself,’ Harry said, letting a smirk cross his features. ‘Unlike
you.’

‘Don’t be such a smug prat, Potter,’ Justin threatened. ‘You’ll get your comeuppance.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘Really,’ Justin said, ‘what’s so special about you? I don’t get it! You think you’re so great,
strutting around the school with that Draco Malfoy character, acting like you own the place. I
don’t understand how Dumbledore can give you such a free reign, everyone knows you’re as dark as
they come.’

‘Oh please,’ Ron interrupted, ‘you can’t still believe that bull. I’ll admit, I’m not a fan of
Potter, but he’s not dark. He saved your life tonight and all you can do is whine about how he’s
treated by Dumbledore – like it matters! Grow up Justin.’

Justin was speechless.

‘Come on Potter,’ Ron said, leading the way back up the corridor.

Harry wagged a mocking finger at Justin. ‘And I don’t strut, thank you very much.’

He was still chuckling to himself as he caught up with Ron.

‘Never thought I’d see the day you defended me,’ Harry mentioned idly.

‘Yeah, well…’ Ron said vaguely.

‘What changed your mind?’ Harry asked, genuinely curious this time.

‘Lots of things,’ Ron said. ‘Mostly…’

‘Mostly…?’ Harry pressed.

‘Luna Lovegood,’ Ron said.

‘Okay,’ Harry replied, caught off guard, ‘not what I expected to hear. Hermione, maybe, but
Lovegood?’

‘She said you weren’t dark.’

‘You believe her? Believe in her enough to take her word for it?’

Ron nodded.

‘So,’ Harry nudged Ron with an elbow, ‘she good?’

Ron frowned. ‘Good?’

‘In bed,’ Harry explained, and laughed at Ron’s angry look. He held up his hands in surrender.
‘Kidding. Kidding. But you do like her, don’t you?’

‘If I did,’ Ron said, ‘I wouldn’t talk to you about it.’

Harry laughed again. ‘You do.’

Ron made no response, but eventually he couldn’t help but ask a question of his own. ‘Justin did
have a point, you know. Dumbledore does treat you differently. How come?’

‘Your mother is a member of the Order and you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I thought you knew.’

‘Knew what?’ Annoyed.

‘I’m the one who has to do it,’ Harry explained.

‘…do it?’

‘Kill Voldemort.’

Ron stopped walking. ‘You?’

‘Me.’

‘Why?’

‘Dumbledore thinks it’s because of this prophecy that was made before I was born,’ Harry said.
‘It was vague, as they always are, but the gist is this: we can’t exist together. One of us will
kill the other.’

‘That’s… woah. I can’t even put it into words.’

They resumed walking.

‘Wait! You said “Dumbledore thinks”…?’

‘That’s not the reason,’ Harry clarified. ‘The real reason is because he killed my parents.’

‘Revenge?’

‘That’s the core of it anyway,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll not get into the rest. I think it’s pretty
self-explanatory.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron agreed. The silence stretched until Ron couldn’t help himself. ‘You think you can?
Really kill him?’

‘I know I can,’ Harry said. ‘There’s no other alternative.’

‘Man, I don’t envy you.’

Hermione was waiting for him when he returned to Slytherin’s Chamber.

‘Where have you been?’ she demanded.

She was sitting on the couch, wrapped in green silk bedding, and glaring at him with furious
chocolate eyes.

‘I went for a walk,’ Harry lied.

‘For four hours?’

‘I…’

‘Don’t lie to me Harry,’ Hermione interrupted, ‘I can tell.’

‘I don’t know what to say to that,’ Harry said.

‘Tell me the truth,’ Hermione demanded.

‘I’d rather not.’

‘I don’t care,’ Hermione replied bitterly. ‘I was worried sick. The least you owe me is the
truth.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Sorry,’ he said, making his way over to the bedroom.

‘That’s not good enough!’ Hermione stood and followed him.

Harry began to put away his things, hanging the Invisibility Cloak over the back of a chair and
locking the Marauder’s Map in the chest under the bed.

‘Don’t you care at all?’ Hermione asked, fighting off tears. ‘You just leave me all alone in
here and expect me not to worry? Did you even think about what it would be like for me to wake up
and find you gone? Voldemort is a real threat Harry, but he isn’t the only one. We have killers
inside Hogwarts, for crying out loud!’

‘They don’t scare me Hermione,’ Harry said, refusing to look at her.

‘They should,’ she said. ‘You’re not invincible, despite what you might think.’

‘What do you want me to say?’ Harry asked. ‘You want the truth? I already told you, I can’t tell
you. I don’t want you to know Hermione. It’s better you just forget it ever happened.’

‘I can’t believe you,’ Hermione choked. ‘Do you even hear what you’re saying? You’re acting just
like Dumbledore.’

She saw Harry clench his fists. He took several deep breaths, and then turned abruptly and
stormed passed her, grabbing the cloak as he left the room. He didn’t even look at her, not even a
glance.

Hermione rubbed at her wet eyes.

The door to the secret chamber shut with a thump.



18. Chapter Eighteen
--------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Here’s the next chapter. I was going to include Harry’s birthday surprise
for Hermione, but the beginning of the chapter went longer than I expected. I’ll post Hermione’s
birthday as a separate chapter after this. Hope you guys enjoy. More should be coming soon. Thanks
for all the reviews. For all of you who will be viewing this on Portkey, I’d like to apologise for
the awful formatting. For some reason when i save the file as a HTML document, it all goes wonky,
and i have to manually change things in notepad. In the future I’m going to figure out a way to
upload them so that it doesn’t happen, but for now you'll have to deal with it.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Eighteen
Immediately following his fight with Hermione (who was at that very moment crying herself to
sleep in Slytherin’s Chamber) Harry made his way out of Hogwarts Castle. He walked aimlessly down
towards the lake, not really caring where he was heading. The fresh air was cold, numbing him to
everything. Or maybe that was just because of the fight.

The sun hadn’t even begun to peek its giant eye over the horizon yet, but he knew going back to
Slytherin’s Chamber was out of the question. He just couldn’t face Hermione right now. He didn’t
know what he would say if he did, and if he was honest, he though he had already said enough.

The uncomfortable freezing cold of night was a welcome feeling as he stood by the lake and
stared out across its black surface. Sunrise should be happening anytime now, but for Harry the day
was already a black one. Light would not help matters.

Tiring of the lake, he began his journey back to the castle. On his way he noticed the light on
down at Hagrid’s house and decided to stop by and talk to the half-giant. It had been a while since
they had really talked.

An even bushier haired Hagrid answer the door when he knocked. ‘’Arry?’

‘Hey Hagrid,’ Harry said, ‘mind if I come in?’

Hagrid gestured him in and closed the door behind him. A very happy Fang greeted him with sloppy
licks. ‘Hey Fang, long time.’

‘You okay ‘Arry?’ Hagrid asked, still standing by the door.

‘Fine,’ Harry lied as he sat down. Fang dropped his muzzle into his lap and began drooling.
Harry began to idly stroke the bloodhound’s head.

‘Don’ look fine,’ Hagrid opined.

Harry shrugged dismissively.

‘Ya haven’t bin’ to see me since the Sortin’,’ Hagrid said, moving into the room and putting the
kettle on. ‘What brings ya t’ me at this early hour?’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Harry lied again.

‘’Arry, I know ya better than that,’ Hagrid replied.

Harry sighed, giving in. ‘I had a fight with Hermione.’

‘Oh,’ Hagrid said, scratching his beard. ‘I’m not much ‘elp in that area.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Harry said, ‘I didn’t come here to talk about it. Just thought it’d be
nice to catch up, or something.’

‘Why did y’fight?’ Hagrid asked.

‘Difference of opinion,’ Harry said.

‘You goin’ t’let summat like tha’ stop ya?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘’Arry,’ Hagrid began earnestly, ‘I’ve seen ya wit’ Hermione. You look ‘appy, happier than I
ever seen ya. Ever since I brough’ ya from those Dursleys, you never once looked ‘appy, but that
girl, she changed ya. Don’ let that get ‘way from ya.’

‘Don’t worry about that Hagrid,’ Harry said. ‘I might not have looked happy, but I was all
right. I knew, from the moment you told me about your suspicions that Voldemort was still alive,
that I had a job to do. I vowed that I wasn’t going to rest until I finished it. I haven’t. He’ll
die by my hand, I promise you. Then I can concentrate on being happy.’

‘Am’ not sure thas’ true,’ Hagrid said. ‘What’s the point o’ fightin’ if it isn’t t’ protect
summat. Summat y’ love.’

‘Power of love, huh?’ Harry scowled. ‘I think revenge is a better motivator.’

‘Power of hate,’ Hagrid said.

‘I guess,’ Harry replied.

The silence that stretched was very uncomfortable. Harry studied Hagrid’s face as the giant
pondered his words. Then, ‘Maybe your more like you-know-who than I thought,’ Hagrid said, a note
of sadness in his voice.

Harry stopped stroking Fang. The uncomfortable silence only grew tenser. Hagrid cleared his
throat loudly. ‘I think y’ need to think ‘bout some things, Harry. Whether you want t’ continue
down that road yer’ on.’

‘I guess so,’ Harry replied, standing up abruptly. ‘Later Hagrid.’

Harry left the warmth of Hagrid’s cabin behind and stepped once more out into the darkness – the
cold empty darkness.

Harry didn’t see Hermione at all that day.

When he returned to Slytherin’s Chamber, she was long gone. He sat on the bed they had shared
for nearly a month now and thought about everything that happened to him during the early hours of
the morning. Hermione had first compared him to Dumbledore. Then Hagrid had compared him to
Voldemort. Fancy that.

He might have been acting aloof about the whole situation, but the truth was he really did need
Hermione’s love and support. He had no idea how he had even managed to survive without it. The rub
was he didn’t know how to go about securing her love, without putting her in danger at the same
time. It just wasn’t possible.

If only he could tell her the truth and make her promise not to put herself in danger. That
wouldn’t happen though. Hermione wouldn’t stand for it. She would insist on helping him patrol the
corridors, and if something happened, who knows what would be the result of that. Harry didn’t want
to think about a world without Hermione.

‘Bad day?’ Draco asked as Harry joined him at the end of the Slytherin table.

Harry made a non-committal sound.

‘Join the club,’ Draco drawled.

Harry began loading food on his plate.

‘Looks like we’re not welcome,’ Draco said, glancing down the table at several glaring Slytherin
faces.

Harry went on stacking food on his plate.

‘You got a problem?’ Draco said, loud enough to be heard all down the table.

Several of the heads went back to their plates, but some of them continued to glare, not fazed
by Draco’s threatening tone.

‘I think they’re trying to figure out why the notorious Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are once
again sitting at the Slytherin table,’ a smug voice announced. Theodore Nott, flanked by Crabbe and
Goyle, stood looking down on them from across the table. ‘Slutty Gryffindor girlfriends finally get
bored with you? Not welcome at the bleeding heart table anymore?’

Harry stopped what he was doing. His head didn’t move, but his eyes swivelled to lock with Nott,
who was unaware of this turn of events.

Draco, on the other hand, had a more obvious reaction to this insult. His wand was in his hand,
pointed at Nott, and his chair had clattered to floor when he stood abruptly. ‘Care to repeat
that?’

‘I don’t think I need to,’ Nott said, arms folded across his thin chest arrogantly, ‘but if you
insist. Why don’t you-’

Before Nott could finish his next verbal assault, Draco had already attacked. The stunner spell
was flung across the table without any prior warning, but instead of striking Nott, it bounced off
an invisible barrier and came flying back. Draco barely managed to avoid it but ducking. An
unfortunate Ravenclaw was hit in the back and slumped unconscious into her food. The entire hall
went silent. Professor Slughorn, the only one present at the staff table, stood up and began to
make his way (slowly, but as fast as he could go) down towards the Slytherin table, calling out,
‘Hey there, stop right now!’

Nott ignored him and stood up onto the table, about to make his way over to Draco, his wand now
out and ready to use. He didn’t get very far. Like an invisible giant thrust to the chest, Nott was
flung backwards into the wall. Professor Slughorn stopped in his tracks with surprise.

Harry had stood up.

With a flick of his wrist, his wand was in hand. ‘Phloxmenti!’ Crabbe and Goyle attempted to
cast a Flame Charm at him at the same time, but Harry deflected the spell. The two jets of flame
seemingly evaporated into smoke as they neared Harry, engulfing him for a few moments. Using this
to his advantage, Harry cast two quick Disarming spells. When the smoke cleared, he was holding
both Crabbe and Goyle’s wands. He tossed them to Draco as his friend stood up.

Nott was just regaining his feet by this point and he glowered up at Harry.

‘Didn’t you want to fight?’ Harry asked coldly.

‘I’m not scared of you Potter!’

‘You should be,’ Harry replied. ‘I know it’s you.’

Nott smirked. ‘Why, I have no idea what you are talking about.’

‘Sure,’ Harry said. ‘If you say so.’

‘That’s enough,’ Professor Slughorn finally intervened, getting over his surprise. ‘All five of
you will report to me for detention every night for a week. And… fifty points from Slytherin.’ It
clearly pained him to say this. ‘Now, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, get out of here. Malfoy, give them
back their wands. Harry, sit down and finish your breakfast. I don’t want to catch you fighting
again, understand?’

Harry had already sat back down and wasn’t listening anymore. Draco tossed Crabbe and Goyle
their wands. They caught them easily and followed Nott out of the Great Hall. Draco picked up his
chair and sat down again. Slughorn nodded his approval, before going to check on the still
unconscious Ravenclaw.

‘Thanks for the back-up.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So why *are* you sitting at this damn table?’

‘Ditto.’

‘Messed things up with Ginny again,’ Draco replied grouchily.

Harry gave a humourless laugh. ‘Not surprising. I don’t think guys like us are cut out for this
relationship business.’

‘Fight with Hermione?’ Draco asked, although he really didn’t need to. ‘How come?’

‘You know I’ve been guarding the corridors,’ Harry said. ‘Hermione finally figured out I was
leaving Slytherin’s Chamber. She wanted to know why. I refused to tell her.’

‘Why? If you can make amends with her, do so. Wish it was that simple with Ginny and me.’

‘It *isn’t* that simple though,’ Harry replied. ‘I don’t want her in any danger.’

It was Draco’s turn to laugh. ‘Hate to break it to you Potter, but she’s always going to be in
danger. Everyone alive and against Voldemort is in danger. You know that.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Trust me,’ Draco said, ‘if you can make up with her, just do it. Don’t let your male pride and
overprotective feelings get in the way. What’s the point if you lose her?’

‘She’ll still be alive,’ Harry argued.

‘With another guy, most likely,’ Draco pointed out.

‘Bastard,’ Harry grunted.

‘You know I’m right.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Harry said, ‘that’s why I called you a bastard.’

Draco smirked. ‘Oh, and if you tell anyone about this conversation, I’ll hex you to death, got
it?’

‘Got it.’

This time it was Ron who found Luna waiting for him atop their usual Hogwarts castle rampart. It
had become their spot, somehow, and he wasn’t at all surprised to find her there. She was sitting
with her legs dangling over the side, barefoot as always, and she had her face turned up into the
sky with her eyes closed. She looked truly serene, ghost like, but beautiful. He smiled softly at
his thoughts and went to join her.

‘Hello Ronald,’ Luna said as he settled down next to her.

‘Hey.’ He wasn’t going to even bother asking how she knew it was him when she still had her eyes
closed and her face turned up towards the night sky.

Their meetings had become a daily occurrence now, without any kind of verbal arrangement. They
didn’t need one.

‘I have some names for you,’ Luna announced suddenly.

‘Names?’ Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

‘You asked me to look at peoples auras and see if I found any dark ones,’ Luna reminded him.

‘Oh yeah. You found some?’

‘A few,’ Luna said.

‘Who?’

‘In no particular order,’ Luna began, finally opening her eyes and looking at him, ‘they are;
Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott.’

‘Slytherins,’ Ron all but snarled. ‘Why am I not surprised? Is that all?’

‘No,’ Luna said, ‘there was one more. She’s a member of my house.’

‘A Ravenclaw?’ Ron was a little surprised. ‘Who?’

‘Mandy Brocklehurst,’ Luna replied. ‘She’s in your year.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron said quietly, ‘I know. Are you sure?’

‘Positive,’ Luna said, ‘her aura was very dark. But,’ Luna paused, uncomfortable saying this
next bit.

‘What is it?’

‘Theodore Nott,’ Luna said. ‘He was even darker, and powerful, as well. Be careful.’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Ron said, ‘I can handle myself.’

‘I do worry,’ Luna admitted.

Ron smiled at her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said in his best reassuring tone.

‘Do you?’ Luna asked, holding out her hand. Ron took it and looked up. They sat in silence for a
few minutes, enjoying the amazing sight. It just never seemed to get old. Finally, another question
occurred to Ron, and while he didn’t like to disturb the peaceful quiet, he couldn’t help but ask
it.

‘You looked at everyone’s auras, right?’

Luna nodded.

‘Even Draco Malfoy?’

Luna laughed softly. ‘He’s fine,’ she said. ‘Ginny is my friend, I wouldn’t let her date a dark
wizard.’

‘He’s not dark?’

‘He’s like Harry,’ Luna answered. ‘Darkness had tainted his life, but he fights it.’

‘Oh,’ Ron said, unsure how he felt about this.

‘Don’t think about it,’ Luna said, studying his face knowingly. ‘It’s not up to you anyway.
Ginny can make her own decisions. Let’s just watch the Pollot Flies.’

Ron sighed. ‘I guess. I just don’t want her to get hurt. You understand that right? I’m not some
git who just wants to keep his little sister from dating. I just don’t want him to hurt her. He’s
already done it once, what’s to stop him doing it again?’

‘Ronald,’ Luna said, squeezing his hand for emphasis, ‘I do understand, but like I said, it’s
not your decision. It belongs to Ginny.’

‘Think she’ll start dating him again?’ Ron asked. ‘He’s probably already asked her to Hogsmeade.
Can you believe Dumbledore managed to convince the board of governors to allow Hogsmeade
weekends?’

‘It’s smart of him,’ Luna said.

‘How come?’

‘It helps create comfort for the students,’ Luna replied. ‘It makes them think that if things
were really bad, then surely Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t allow them, right? But because he is,
they feel relieved.’

‘But things *are* bad,’ Ron pointed out.

‘I’m sure Professor Dumbledore has everything taken care of.’

‘I hope so,’ Ron said. ‘I’d hate for anything to ruin our date.’

Luna looked at Ron sharply, eyes slightly wider than usual. ‘Our date?’

Ron blushed a deep red. ‘If you want,’ he offered embarrassedly.

Luna smiled a smile of pure affection. She beamed. ‘I would love to.’

‘Cool,’ Ron said, smiling as well.

Neither knew quite what to say after that. They shared a few shy looks, but ultimately remained
silent until it was finally time to call it a night. As Ron was returning to Gryffindor tower, the
last person he expected to run into was Harry Potter, but run into him he did. Harry was waiting
for him by the portrait of the Fat Lady.

‘Potter? What’re you doing here?’

‘Come on,’ Harry said, grabbing him by the robes and leading him away from the nosy
portrait.

‘Hey, hang on,’ Ron exclaimed. When they rounded the corner, Harry released Ron and stood
looking at him pensively. ‘What?’

‘You want to help out, don’t you?’ Harry asked.

‘Help out?’

‘Look,’ Harry said, ‘we both know someone inside Hogwarts is responsible for those two deaths. I
can only do so much. Fact is I need help. Draco’s already in, but I could use your help as well.
What do you say?’

‘*You* want *my* help?’

‘What are you? Deaf?’ Harry snapped.

‘Just trying to process it,’ Ron said, ‘it’s not everyday the great Harry Potter asks for my
help.’

‘You in or not?’

‘I’m in,’ Ron said. ‘I got some information for you as well. Luna has this ability. She can see
people’s auras or something. Anyway, she can tell when a wizard is dark. She said it’s not really
reliable, but it’s better than nothing, right?’

‘The information?’

‘Four names,’ Ron said, giving Harry a significant look.

‘Four.’

‘Exactly,’ Ron said. ‘I’m sure you won’t be surprised by the first three.’

‘Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, right?’

‘Got ‘em in one,’ Ron said.

‘And the fourth?’ Harry asked.

‘This one might be a little more surprising,’ Ron replied. ‘It’s Mandy Brocklehurst. She’s a
Ravenclaw from our year.’

‘Hmm.’ Harry frowned. ‘That is surprising.’

‘There’s more,’ Ron said.

‘Go on.’

‘Luna said that Nott’s aura was darker than others,’ he explained. ‘She said he was powerful and
warned me to be careful.’

‘He’s obviously the leader,’ Harry said. ‘The way they got away bothers me. It was too fast. I
suspected they knew a few tricks, but maybe it’s just Nott.’

‘Maybe,’ Ron agreed. ‘So how do you need me to help?’

‘Just continue doing what you were doing,’ Harry said. ‘Keep a look out for any weird behaviour,
especially by Nott and those lot, and help Draco and me patrol the corridors. We’ll come up with a
rotor so at least one of us is on duty every night. That way we won’t all be completely knackered
all the time. And I’ll need to train you a bit as well. I know some nice spells that’ll really help
you out if you get in a jam.’

‘Training?’

‘Trust me,’ Harry said, ‘I’ve been preparing for this since I was eleven and I know a few tricks
of my own. Also, I’ve seen your test scores. You don’t exactly excel, but with my help you
will.’

‘You arrogant bastard,’ Ron said.

‘Am I lying?’

Ron exhaled with resignation. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I used to look up to you when I was a kid. I
idolized you.’

‘Really?’ Harry was a little surprised by this. ‘What changed?’

Ron smirked. ‘I met you,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you Potter.’ He pushed past a slightly taken aback
Harry and began walking back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

‘Meet me here at five tomorrow,’ Harry called to his back.

Ron raised his hand lackadaisically into the air in response and gave a little wave.

Harry rolled his eyes.

After spending all of Sunday, Monday and then Tuesday in a bad mood, Draco decided it was time
to try and make things up with Ginny. Having memorised her timetable, he was waiting for her after
her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. She stopped in surprise when she saw him, but he was
encouraged when she gave him a small smile and motioned for him to walk with her.

‘I’m glad you came to see me,’ Ginny said, by way of greeting.

‘You are?’

‘Yeah,’ Ginny said, ‘I really wanted to apologise for running off the other day. I shouldn’t
have – not without explaining why.’

‘Oh?’ Draco didn’t know what exactly she meant by that.

‘You tried to kiss me,’ Ginny said. ‘But I’m just not ready for that Draco.’

‘Why?’ Draco asked, not meaning to sound as harsh as he did. He cleared his throat. ‘Haven’t I
proved how sorry I am? Haven’t I proved my feelings for you? Why can’t things just get back to
normal?’

‘Normal?’ Ginny shook her head. ‘I don’t even know what that is with us. Draco, please don’t
rush me.’

‘Come to Hogsmeade with me,’ Draco asked, because he knew if he didn’t now then he would lose
his nerve.

Ginny sighed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said earnestly, ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t.’

‘You going with someone else?’ Draco demanded.

‘You… why do this, Draco?’ Ginny looked at him pleadingly. ‘Don’t. Just leave it.’

‘You are,’ Draco said, narrowing his eyes, ‘aren’t you.’

Ginny couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Longbottom?’ Draco asked, grabbing her shoulders to make her face him. ‘Is it Longbottom?’

Ginny didn’t need to reply.

Draco ground his teeth together in frustration.

‘He asked me as a friend,’ Ginny tried to explain. ‘It’s not a date, Draco, so you don’t need to
get all jealous. Neville is my friend, and that’s all.’

‘Sure,’ Draco said bitterly, ‘just friends, right? Then why didn’t you want to tell me?’

‘Because I knew you would react this way,’ Ginny argued.

‘I have the right, I think,’ Draco defended.

‘No, you don’t,’ Ginny snapped back, ‘not anymore. You’re *not* my boyfriend. And if you
keep up with this crap you won’t ever be.’

Draco narrowed his eyes even further. ‘Fine,’ he growled. ‘Whatever you want Weasley!’ Then he
stormed off.

Ginny huffed out a deep breath and ran her hands through her fiery mane in exasperation.

‘Brilliant,’ she muttered, but he was already out of earshot.

When Draco returned to the Head’s common room, he found Hermione curled up in one of the winged
back chairs, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book. The fire was roaring and casting its
flickering light over her cheerless face. He sighed and made his way over to her, sitting down in
the chair next to hers.

‘Harry still hasn’t come to see you, has he?’

‘I don’t think he will,’ Hermione said.

‘What makes you say that?’ Draco asked.

‘I said something,’ Hermione replied, ‘something that to Harry was really bad. I really messed
things up Draco.’

‘Then why don’t you go tell him you’re sorry,’ Draco tried, propping his feet up on one of the
foot rests.

‘Because…’ Hermione heaved a big sigh of irritation. ‘I can’t. I’m mad at him for lying to me
and for not telling me what he’s getting up to, but at the same time I still love him and I don’t
want things to end between us. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Relationships are fuckers, aren’t the?’ Draco said, giving her a grim, rueful look.

‘Real fuckers,’ Hermione agreed.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh.

Hermione glared at him. ‘What?’ she demanded.

‘Sorry,’ Draco said, ‘but some people shouldn’t swear.’

‘Why?’ Her glare only worsened as she continued to stare at him.

‘Nothing,’ Draco said, getting control of himself, ‘it’s just I never thought I’d ever hear you
say fuck like that. It’s very odd.’

‘I swear all the time,’ Hermione defended.

‘Yeah, sure, whatever you say.’

‘I do!’

‘When?’

Hermione frowned, before finally giving in.

‘…Ugh, fine, I don’t, but the situation more than calls for it!’

‘It sure does,’ Draco agreed.

‘Have you talked to him?’ Hermione asked, serious once more.

‘Yeah,’ Draco replied.

‘Did he say anything? About me?’

Draco thought about it. He didn’t want to give away Harry’s secret, but he had to tell her
something, something to give her hope. Finally, he decided on, ‘He feels the same way you do. He
wants to make things right, but he doesn’t quite know how. Just give him time.’

Hermione lowered her eyes, fighting off tears. ‘Do you know?’ she whispered. ‘Know what he was
doing?’

‘You don’t really want to know, do you?’ Draco asked.

‘Is it another girl?’ Her voice was barely audible and carried more than a hint of shame at
having to ask him this question.

Draco immediately made her look at him, giving her chin a nudge, but she kept her eyes lowered.
‘Look at me Hermione,’ he ordered. She did, slowly. ‘He is *not* cheating on you. He wouldn’t
ever do that. Understand?’

She nodded, wiped away tears. ‘I’m going to go to bed,’ she sniffled.

‘Okay.’

Hermione was at the door to her bedchamber when she stopped and said one last thing. ‘Thank you,
Draco - you’re a very good friend.’

Draco settled back into the chair and smirked.

‘Who would have thought it, huh?’

It was Wednesday now and Harry was in the Room of Requirement, going over a few last minute
details with Draco, Neville and Ron, his new team of Hogwarts guards. They had been meeting
everyday of the week, going over some advanced offensive and defence spells. In the defensive area,
Harry was mainly focusing on stealth and concealment. He knew that Draco and Neville could handle
themselves well enough, but still, being able to quickly conceal oneself from the enemy would be a
great advantage if things went south. Even Ron showed more skill than he expected, even though he
was the most inexperienced member of the group. Harry was actually a little proud of his gang of
patrollers.

‘So, remember, the best way to avoid trouble is to not be seen in the first place. The
Disillusionment Charm I showed you would work well. It might not be powerful enough to make you
completely invisible, but you should be able to blend into your environment well enough, especially
if you stick to the walls and shadows if possible. If you do find the Death Eaters, follow them,
and see if you can reveal their identity. I’m already pretty sure who it is, thanks to Luna’s help,
but some actual evidence is what we need. If they try to attack someone, you should distract them -
make a sound or something. They should run away quick enough if that happens. I wouldn’t recommend
trying to take them on. Four against one isn’t good odds, even for me. Hear that Draco?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Draco said, holding his hands up as if already found guilty.

‘We’ll continue with our shifts,’ Harry said, ‘so that we can remain as alert as possible. I
want two guys on every night, okay?’

‘Got it Harry,’ Neville said.

‘Whatever,’ Ron agreed.

‘Okay, that’s it then,’ Harry said, getting up. ‘You all remember what nights you’re on, don’t
you?’

Draco nodded to him on the way out.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow Potter,’ Ron said, following after Draco.

‘Neville, can I talk to you for a minute?’

‘Sure, what is it?’

‘I’m supposed to be on with Weasley tomorrow night,’ Harry began, ‘but I’ve been trying to come
up with a way to make things right with Hermione. Tomorrow is her birthday. I want to do something
special for her.’

‘You want me to cover your shift?’ Neville asked, smiling.

‘Would you?’

‘Sure,’ Neville said, ‘no problem, as long as you and Hermione work things out.’

‘Thanks Neville.’ Harry clapped him on the shoulder in gratitude.

Neville smiled again. ‘Just don’t screw it up.’

‘I’ll try.’



19. Chapter Nineteen
--------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Just a short chapter - a special little Harry/Hermione interlude. Hope you
guys enjoy.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Nineteen
When Thursday night arrived, Harry was ready to make things up to Hermione. He had spent the
first few days of the week trying to decide how to make it up to her and whether or not to tell her
the truth about his nightly excursions. Once that was all settled he just had to find the right
time to approach her. He figured her birthday would be the best.

So it was that Harry arrived at the Heads common room. Draco was waiting for him outside and
quickly allowed him access, leading him into the spacious sitting area. The Head Girl’s door was
closed.

‘She’s in her room,’ Draco said.

‘How has she been?’ Harry asked with concern.

Draco made a thoughtful expression. ‘Well, to say it’s her birthday, she’s been pretty
depressing.’

Harry nodded, having expected as much.

‘Just go in and say your sorry and shag and you’ll all feel better, trust me.’

Harry gave a low chuckle. ‘That the Draco Malfoy solution?’

‘It always works for me.’

‘Why don’t you try that with Ginny then?’ Harry suggested it lightly, speaking over his shoulder
as he approached Hermione’s bedchamber.

‘Wish I bloody could,’ Draco mumbled, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore.

Standing outside her door, Harry knocked lightly. ‘Hermione? You awake?’

He heard a faint fumbling sound, then quick footsteps that came to an abrupt stop. ‘Hermione?’
he tried again when she didn’t open the door.

After only a moments pause, she opened the door. He had never seen her looking so worn before.
Her hair was a frizzy, tangled mess, framing a splotchy face. Dark circles ringed her eyes. She was
wearing nothing but a pair of bunny pyjamas. Though all this suggested she was missing him, she
still looked up at him with an impassive face.

He gave her a rather shaky smile. ‘Hey,’ he tried. ‘Can I come in?’

She regarded him with her blank face, and then turned to the side to let him in. Shutting the
door behind him, Hermione considered him with arms crossed.

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself – apologising wasn’t something he was used to.
‘First, I… I want to apologise, for lying to you and for not telling you what I was doing. I’m
really sorry Hermione. Hell, I was sorry *while* I was doing it.’

‘Then why did you?’ Hermione challenged him, still not uncrossing her arms.

‘I wanted to protect you from what I was doing,’ Harry said.

‘You don’t get to decide that though,’ Hermione said.

‘I know that,’ Harry said, with a sigh, ‘but it wasn’t just about you either.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I was afraid of what I’d do if something happened to you,’ Harry replied honestly, lowering his
eyes to the floor. ‘If I get mad, that’s when my magic gets out of control. I blasted Snape across
an entire corridor just for trying to touch something that wasn’t his. I don’t want to even imagine
what I would do if someone hurt – or Merlin forbid, killed – you.’

Hermione was silent for a moment. ‘It really scares you, doesn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Losing
control.’

‘It terrifies me,’ Harry admitted quietly.

Hermione finally uncrossed her arms, moved towards Harry, and wrapped her arms around him. ‘It’s
okay Harry,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I know you, and you won’t let it take control. You’re so
strong. Stronger than your magic.’

‘I’m so sorry Hermione,’ Harry nearly sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ she said, rubbing his back, ‘I forgive you. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I have something special planned for your birthday,’ Harry said, ‘will you come with me? I
promise I’ll tell you everything when we get there.’

‘You planned something for my birthday?’ Hermione asked with surprise.

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, ‘I wanted to show you how sorry I was. I did my best with it, so I hope you
like it.’

‘Okay,’ Hermione said, pulling back and giving him a soft smile, ‘just let me get cleaned
up.’

‘Don’t,’ Harry said, moving her frizzy hair out of the way gently, ‘you look fine.’

‘I’m a mess,’ she argued.

‘You’re always beautiful to me,’ Harry argued back.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at that. ‘Thanks, but you don’t have to be so complimentary.
I’ve already forgiven you.’

‘I’m serious Hermione,’ Harry said, ‘you really don’t need to change a thing. Let’s just
go.’

‘Not even my bunny PJ’s?’ Hermione asked, with a little bit of an impish grin.

‘Especially not those,’ Harry said, returning the grin.

‘Well, you better have brought your cloak, because there is no way I’m going walking around
Hogwarts in my PJ’s!’

Harry held up his Invisibility Cloak.

‘So where are we going?’

‘The Room of Requirement,’ Harry replied, slipping the cloak over Hermione.

When they arrived outside the hidden room, Harry walked back and forth three times, thinking
about what he had arranged earlier, while Hermione remained invisible underneath the cloak. On his
third pass, the door appeared, and Harry led Hermione into a scene out of every girls
fantasies.

‘Amazing,’ Hermione breathed, gazing out at the sparkling blue ocean. She dug her bare toes into
the warm white sand and removed the cloak, stepping into the “room” with unhurried movements. Harry
closed the door and watched as it vanished, leaving the illusion that they where standing alone on
an empty tropical island. Palm Trees dotted the coastline for as far as the eye could see. Two
large blankets had been placed before them, on which rested a single picnic basket. ‘How did you do
this? I never knew the room could transform into something like this.’

‘Neither did I,’ Harry said, ‘until I tried.’

Hermione turned around to look back at the Palm Trees. ‘Where did the door go? How do we get
out?’

‘It’ll re-appear when I want it to - don’t worry. Just relax and enjoy.’

‘A picnic? Did you have Dobby make it again?’ Hermione asked, sitting down on the blankets and
crossing her legs. She began riffling through the contents as Harry joined her on his knees.

‘Actually,’ Harry said, rubbing his hands together sheepishly, ‘I kind of made this one myself -
with Dobby’s help. I didn’t want to poison you, but I thought…you know.’

Hermione beamed. ‘You made it yourself? That’s so romantic. Thank you Harry.’

‘Don’t say that until you try it,’ Harry said, unable to keep a blush from colouring his
cheeks.

‘I’m sure it will be delicious,’ Hermione said, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
She began to pick out bits of the food, laying each one on the blanket on which they sat. Harry
watched her with a smile, glad that he had been able to make her happy.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, sharing the food out between them, sitting with arms
wrapped around each other, sometimes lying down and looking at the flawlessly blue sky. Hermione
settled her head on Harry’s chest, nibbling absently on a bit of apple.

‘Hermione?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Do you want your present now?’

She sat up immediately and turned to look down at him with wide, pleasantly surprised eyes. ‘You
got me a present as well?’

Harry sat up. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘sort of, anyway. It’s actually… well, here.’ Harry riffled
through his pockets before presenting her with a perfectly square box. Hermione took it with care,
examined the outside, and then flipped open the lid of the box. She let out a gasp at the contents.
Inside was a wonderful white gold ring, with two small diamonds surrounding a bigger one in the
middle. She reached in and gently removed it from the cushioned box.

‘Do you like it?’ Harry asked.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Hermione whispered.

‘Erm,’ Harry said, ‘I suppose now would be the time to tell you what I’ve been up to.’

Hermione stopped short of putting the ring on, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. She nodded in
agreement and settled back to listen as he began to explain. When he was finished, she reached out
and took his hand with the one not holding the ring. ‘You should have told me from the
beginning.’

‘I know,’ Harry said. ‘Anyway, if you want to help, then you can.’

‘I can?’ Hermione was a little surprised to hear him say this.

‘I bought you the ring a while ago, for your birthday, but I never knew how useful it would turn
out to be. See, I charmed the ring with my most powerful Disillusionment Charm. To activate it, all
you have to do is cast your own, and it’ll automatically respond. You’ll be practically invisible
with that ring on. That way I don’t have to worry about you being hurt.’

‘You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Hermione asked, trying not to sound too hurt, but taking her
hand back at the same time.

‘No,’ Harry replied immediately. ‘I don’t mean that at all. You’re more than capable, but the
fact is, if you do bump into them, you’ll be dealing with four Death Eaters. It’s not good
odds.’

‘Oh,’ Hermione sounded, thinking it over. ‘I suppose that makes sense.’

Harry sighed wearily. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I guess that wasn’t such a great present after
all.’

‘No,’ Hermione said forcefully, ‘it was. Really. I love the ring. It’s beautiful. And… the charm
was very thoughtful. I was just being… I was over-reacting. I’m sorry Harry. Thank you very
much.’

‘Honestly?’ Harry asked, trying not to sound too hopeful and needy.

‘Honestly,’ Hermione replied. She reached out again and gave his hand a squeeze. ‘I’m sorry for
what I said to you. You’re not like him. Not at all.’

‘I was being like him though,’ Harry said. ‘So, I don’t blame you, and you don’t have to
apologise for anything.’

‘I shouldn’t have said it though.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Harry said, ‘I just want to forget it, okay? Let’s just move on, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Hermione fiddled with the ring in her free hand. ‘Will you put in on?’

‘Of course,’ Harry replied, taking the ring back. Hermione extended her left hand.

‘Where do you want it?’

She gave him a shaky smile. ‘My ring finger?’

Harry looked up into her eyes, searching her face for sincerity. ‘Your ring finger?’

‘You know what that means, don’t you?’ Hermione asked, her hands visibly shaking.

‘Isn’t that… where you… put an engagement ring?’ Harry could barely get the words out he was
that blown away.

Hermione giggled. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But you can relax. It’s also for promise rings as well.’

‘What’s a promise ring?’ Harry asked, relaxing a little.

‘It’s exactly what it sounds like,’ Hermione went on to explain, ‘a promise ring is a promise to
someone. It can mean anything. Sometimes people just give them to signify that they are in a
serious relationship. I won’t lie though. Generally, promise rings that are worn on your left ring
finger tend to indicate pre-engagement. You don’t have to put it on that finger - I was just… I
don’t know… being silly. How about - ’ she was stopped abruptly as Harry slid the ring onto her
left ring finger.

‘Like that?’ he asked, not taking his eyes of her face as she studied the ring.

‘Yes.’

‘I love you Hermione.’

‘I love you too, Harry. Thank you.’

Hermione choked on a sob of happiness, however she was unable to stop the tears from leaking out
of her eyes. Harry quickly closed the distance, wiped them away, and kissed her. They made love
that night on the sandy tropical beach, the sky turning black above them, and the stars bathing
them with twinkling lights.

**Authors Note:** How terribly sappy, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. I can actually feel
my manliness slipping away. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed it.



20. Chapter Twenty
------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** A shamefully short chapter – sorry everyone. I’m working nightshift at the
moment, so very tired most of the time, and working when I usually do most of my writing.
Hopefully, I’m going to try and get into the habit of writing during the weekend, and start getting
at least one chapter out every week. Fingers crossed. Either way, hope you like this little bit.
Thanks for the continued patience and reviews and all. You all rock.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**Chapter Twenty
Dumbledore managed to stretch the Hogwarts defences to include Hogsmeade, allowing his students
some semblance of normalcy, despite the Board of Governors and even the Ministry of Magic’s wishes.
However, even with Dumbledore’s assurances, most of the students were too afraid to set foot
outside Hogwarts, regardless of the Headmasters best efforts. Harry marked another one in the win
column for Voldemort.

As he made his way down to the magical little village, Hermione holding his hand, he couldn’t
help but notice the lack of delight and excitement that usually surrounded a Hogsmeade weekend.

‘It’s just not the same, is it?’ Hermione asked.

‘No,’ Harry was forced to agree, ‘it really isn’t.’

‘Well,’ Hermione puffed out a breath, ‘I’m not going to let it stop me from having fun. After
everything we’re been through, we deserve a break. Voldemort be damned.’

Harry gave a big smile. ‘I really love you,’ he said, very sincerely.

Hermione returned his smile. ‘I know.’

At the same time Harry and Hermione made their way slowly down to Hogsmeade, Ginny and Neville
sat together in a booth in the Three Broomsticks, enjoying polite conversation and a few
Butterbeers. They sat across from each other, which Neville wasn’t all that thrilled about, but he
wasn’t going to complain. Anytime spent with Ginny was magical – pardon the pun.

‘…and he’s been teaching us all sorts of magic, really advanced stuff, it’s brilliant, I’m sure
he’d teach you as well if you asked,’ Neville rambled, at the moment not noticing that Ginny wasn’t
really paying attention. ‘You should talk to him about it. We need all the help we can… get… Ginny,
are you okay?’

Ginny went on staring into space.

‘Ginny?’ Neville repeated, leaning over to take her hand.

‘Huh?’ Ginny was snapped out of her doze when Neville touched her hand. She snatched it back
involuntarily. ‘Sorry Neville, what where you saying?’

Neville ignored the question and asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, I’m just…’ Ginny sighed. ‘I just want things back to normal. With Draco and me. I wish
I could just trust him again…’

‘Oh,’ Neville said, and then quickly tried to change the subject, because he certainly didn’t
want to talk about Draco Malfoy, ‘well, anyway - ’

‘Or even let myself trust him,’ Ginny interrupted, ‘because if I don’t, I know we won’t ever get
back together. I try really hard, but every time we start to patch things up, something happens and
we screw it up again. It’s not just him, though. It’s me as well. We’re so combustible together. I
sometimes wonder if we’re meant to be together or not. If it was meant to be, wouldn’t it be
easy?’

‘Well,’ Neville began, but Ginny interrupted again.

‘Sorry, Neville, I’m sure you don’t want to listen to me go on and on about Draco. Let’s talk
about something else.’

‘Great,’ Neville said, but he had no idea what. The silence of doom settled down on them,
omnipresent around table. Finally, Ginny broke it, but it wasn’t a good thing.

‘Do you think I’ll ever patch things up with Draco?’ she asked.

‘Err,’ Neville sounded, completely clueless as to how to respond. He didn’t want to encourage
her interest in Draco, but he couldn’t be too negative as to give himself away. ‘I think… Malfoy…
he’s…’

‘What?’ Ginny asked.

Neville took the plunge. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, Ginny. He broke your heart in front of the
entire school. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t - ’

‘I know that,’ Ginny broke in, ‘you don’t have to remind me. But I know Draco. He does love me.
And I love him.’

‘How can you?’ Neville asked, trying hard to not sound too heartbroken by her admission. He
didn’t do very well.

‘I just do,’ Ginny said. ‘I can’t explain it. Neville, did you think this was a date?’

Neville went quickly red.

‘I’m sorry, Neville,’ Ginny said, ‘I just like you as a friend. I thought that was clear.’

Neville looked down into his lap and mumbled a reply, ‘It was. I just… hoped.’

‘We still friends?’ Ginny asked.

Neville nodded.

Ginny reached over and took his hand. ‘Good,’ she said, ‘because I really value your friendship.
You’ll make a girl really happy one day.’

‘Yeah,’ Neville replied, slightly surly, ‘that’s what everyone says.’

Ginny sighed and cast about for something else to say. As her eyes roamed the pub, she noticed a
friendly face just entering the room, shaking droplets of rain from her blonde hair. ‘Hey, look,
Luna’s here…’ Ginny trailed off, staring in complete shock at her friend’s companion.

Neville followed her gaze. ‘With Ron?’

Luna and Ron noticed them and came over to say hello. ‘Hello Ginny,’ Luna said sweetly, and
swivelling her eyes to Neville, ‘Neville. Are you on a date too?’

‘You two are on a date?’ Ginny spluttered.

‘Yup,’ Luna replied, smiling wide and raising their joint hands up for emphasis. Ron was turning
a rather unflattering pink colour.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Ginny said.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ Ron finally spoke up, very defensive.

Ginny giggled. ‘Nothing,’ she said, raising her hand to her mouth.

‘Lets find some privacy, shall we?’ Luna asked, turning to Ron and pulling him along.

Ginny shook her head in amazement. ‘Unbelievable,’ she said, facing Neville again, who didn’t
seem as interested. Ginny sighed. ‘Shall we just go?’

‘If you want,’ Neville murmured, getting up.

Ginny followed him as he exited the building.

As Ginny and Neville left the Three Broomsticks, they failed to notice Draco Malfoy loitering
across the street. He, however, noticed them.

Draco watched as Neville left the pub, followed closely by Ginny. He watched as Ginny put her
hand on Neville’s arm. He watched, with growing fury, as she said something to him and then
disappeared back into the pub. Seeing red, not even thinking about the possible consequences to his
actions, Draco crossed the street to confront the Gryffindor.

‘Having fun with my girl, Longbottom?’

Neville went rigid, before turning to face Draco. ‘So what if I am?’ he asked, his own hurt and
disappointment making him more aggressive and confrontational than he normally would be.

‘She doesn’t give a crap about you,’ Draco said, getting in Neville’s face, ‘you know that,
don’t you? How could she? No one wants a fat bastard when they can have me.’

Neville laughed. ‘Is that why she’s *my* date?’ He made a show of looking around, then
asked, ‘Where’s yours? To ashamed to show her face, having to stoop so low as to date you? Or is it
because you just don’t have one. After all, who would want to date you, a useless, penniless,
parentless fool.’

Before Neville could realise he had gone too far, Draco was attacking him, snarling like an
animal. Fists flying, he connected with a solid punch to Neville’s jaw that made the stockier
wizard see stars - but only for a moment. He quickly regained his balance and when Draco swung
again, Neville blocked it with a forearm and head-butted Draco right in the face. The Slytherin
went down with a cry of surprise and pain. Neville followed him, pinning Draco to the floor with
his superior strength, landing several solid blows to his stomach, and a few to his face for good
measure.

This was how Ginny found them.

‘Neville! No! Stop it!’ she yelled, tugging on his arm as he raised it for another strike.
Neville’s red haze finally seemed to lift as he turned his head to stare up at a shocked and
outraged Ginny. ‘What are you doing? Get off him right now!’

Neville did as he was told, shocked by his own behaviour. Ginny gave him a scathing look as she
helped a bruised and bloody Draco up.

‘Ginny, I…’

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ she said, not looking back at him as she helped Draco back up towards
Hogwarts.

Draco sagged into Ginny’s warmth, still a little loopy to realise exactly what was
happening.

‘Come on Draco,’ Ginny said soothingly, ‘let’s get you cleaned up.’

‘Hmm,’ he murmured, smiling hazily. ‘You smell nice.’

Ginny smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘Love you,’ Draco mumbled, as they left a stunned Neville behind.

‘I know.’

After having a few drinks in the Three Broomsticks, Ron asked Luna if she would like to find
somewhere a little more private to talk. The continued looks from his fellow students was beginning
to aggravate him, to the point were he just couldn’t concentrate on Luna’s delightfully odd
company. Whether Luna understood his sudden desire to leave or not, he couldn’t tell, but she
casually stood up, not even saying a word, and tugged him along and out of the less than usually
crowded pub.

They walked hand in hand down the empty streets of Hogsmeade, heading for some unknown location,
Luna humming softly under her breath. He was trying to place the tune, but was becoming
increasingly sure it wasn’t a tune at all, just a bunch of randomly strung together notes. With a
soft smile, he gently pulled Luna closer, so that their shoulders bumped as they walked. She turned
her head to share his smile.

‘Have you ever been inside the Shrieking Shack?’ Luna asked.

‘Actually, I have,’ Ron said.

‘Really?’ Luna wasn’t surprised all that often, but this time she was.

‘Yeah,’ Ron said, looking off into the distance, ‘and it’s a less than pleasant memory.’

‘Oh,’ Luna sounded, ‘you don’t have to tell me.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Ron said, before she could go on. ‘Actually, I’d like to tell you. If you want
to hear.’

‘I do,’ Luna said sweetly.

‘It was in my third year,’ Ron began, ‘when I found out my pet rat was actually an Animagus, and
a Death Eater to boot. Scabbers had been acting weird all year, but it was towards the end of the
year when I found out why. I was out walking the grounds, getting some fresh air and trying not to
think about exams, when all of a sudden Scabbers started going crazy. I tried to calm him down, but
it was useless.

Then this big black dog appeared and started chasing me. I ran as fast as I could, but I
couldn’t get away. The dog caught me and dragged me down under the Whomping Willow. My leg got
caught on this root as it was dragging me down and got broke, so even though I was fighting with
everything I had, the dog overpowered me. It dragged me through this tunnel, then up into the
Shrieking Shack.

That’s when the dog turned into Sirius Black. I thought he was mad, especially when he started
ranting on about how my rat was actually a person, a wizard named Peter Pettigrew. Before he could
prove it, help came in the most unusual form. Potter and Malfoy entered and blasted Black with
stunners. They argued, but I don’t really remember what was said. The pain in my leg was starting
to make me dizzy. My attention was caught again when Professor Lupin entered and disarmed Potter
and Malfoy. He hugged Black and helped him up. He showed us all this map that proved that Scabbers
was this wizard. It was true. That’s pretty much the last thing I remember before I passed out from
the pain. My loyal pet was a lie. When I woke up again in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, I couldn’t
believe it. What was worse, the damned Death Eater had escaped, and I never got to confront him.
Not the best night of my life.’

‘I suppose you wouldn’t want to go in there again,’ Luna observed. ‘Bad memories and all.’

‘Not really,’ Ron admitted. ‘Besides, how would we get in? Isn’t the place magically
sealed?’’

‘Only to those who fear to go inside,’ Luna said. ‘It’s quite clever, really. With all those
rumours, you can imagine that not many really want to go inside. Some part of them, perhaps, but
even the smallest amount of fear would prevent them from being able to enter. Even though there is
absolutely nothing to fear. I’ve been in before. It’s a good place to go, when you want to be
alone.’

‘You weren’t scared?’ Ron asked.

‘Nope,’ Luna said, ‘just curious.’

Ron laughed with admiration. ‘You are one amazing girl.’

Luna beamed at him. ‘Do you remember that time I was over at your house? I was about nine and
Ginny and I had been playing outside for hours. Your mum was really worried, so she sent you out to
find us.’

‘The bird,’ Ron interrupted, remembering.

‘Yeah,’ Luna said, ‘it was stuck up in that tree and it’s wings had been broken. Ginny and I had
been trying to save it for over an hour. We tried everything. We tried climbing the tree, but it
was too tall for us to get a good grip. I even tried to use magic, but without a wand it was
useless.’

‘You were crying when I found you,’ Ron remembered.

‘I begged you to save the bird and you just smiled at me and told me not to worry,’ Luna went
on. ‘It was the first time I ever felt like I… liked you. I admired you so much. You climbed up the
tree and got the bird and you gave him to me so gently, how could I not fall for you? You were so
brave. I wanted to be like that as well. Brave.’

They had long since stopped walking, so Ron tightened his hold on Luna’s hand and pulled her
closer, tenderly, gingerly, putting his other hand on her waist. Luna looked up at him with
adoration, remembered tears glistening. ‘You are,’ Ron whispered. She closed her eyes and smiled,
resting her head again his chest.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

Ron let go of her hand and lifted her face to his. She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Ron
swallowed nervously. Luna licked her lips.

They kissed.



21. Chapter Twenty-One
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Ooops, sorry guys. I meant to post this at the weekend, but I ended up
working Sunday night and completely forgot about it. Anyway, better late then never and all that.
Hope you enjoy. I certainly did writing it, just as much as I will enjoy reading all your awesome
reviews. Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to mention this for ages. I’ve had a load of reviews by people
all telling me that the Cruciatus Curse is unblockable like the Killing Curse. As far as I’m aware,
that’s never been clarified in the books. JK only says that the Killing Curse is unblockable. I
think people have just got it all mixed up because those three spells are lumped together as the
Unforgivables. Maybe I’m wrong; I haven’t read the books in a while. Either way, for the purpose of
this story, only the Killing Curse is unblockable. Thanks for reading. Have an imaginary
cookie.

**Authors Note 2:** Thank you ranman for pointing out my uber mess up. I forgot about
Hermione! I can't bloody believe it. I was like... "DOH!". Mercilessly beating myself
up right now. Anyway, fixed it. Again, thanks for pointing it out. Sorry everyone.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**

Chapter Twenty-One

Outside of Hogwarts, things were just as dire as the wizarding world had come to expect.
Voldemort continued his campaign of discord, attacking some of the more prominent members of
wizarding community. Others had seemingly disappeared, but whether they had been kidnapped by Death
Eaters, or had just fled and gone into hiding, no one knew.

However, inside Hogwarts tensions had eased somewhat. This might have had something to do with
the noticeable silence of the Junior Death Eaters. Hermione theorized that Harry had managed to
scare them off with the near miss involving Justin Finch-Fletchley and then the confrontation in
the Great Hall. Harry wasn’t so sure - it made him nervous.

On the plus side, things seemed to be going well between Draco and Ginny again. Harry didn’t
know the specifics, but Hermione had told him about the punch up between Draco and Neville that had
somehow precipitated Ginny’s change of heart. Harry didn’t mention Draco’s conflicting account of
the event to her. He got the impression that Ginny thought Neville had started the fight, and
obviously Draco hadn’t bothered to correct her misunderstanding, so it wasn’t Harry’s place to
mention it to anyone, let alone one of Ginny’s best friends, even if she was his girlfriend.

His lessons with Dumbledore and Professor Oniki were proceeding nicely, although the latter was
going much to slowly for his liking. However, Professor Oniki seemed more than pleased with his
progress. Harry was hard put to notice it.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, was finally actually teaching him some useful spells. They had
started with defensive spells, but Harry had quickly proved to Dumbledore that he was more than
efficient at defending himself. Harry’s problem was offensive magic, something that had always
eluded him. None of the books he read had anything interesting to say about offensive magic. They
simply rehashed all of the bog standard spells that any wizard worth his salt could perform –
cutting curses, stunning spells, disarming, and so on. What Harry was looking for was something
more. He didn’t even know what, exactly.

So when Dumbledore stood before him and announced that they would now begin studying advanced
offensive magic, Harry had been beyond ecstatic. He could hardly contain his excitement and he was
rather embarrassed to discover he was acting a little like a hyper child about to get his hands on
his favourite toy.

‘First lesson,’ Dumbledore had said, holding up a crooked old finger, ‘never forget the
basics.’

Harry felt some of his excitement drain away.

Seeing the look on Harry’s face, Dumbledore had continued, with a small little knowing smile,
‘Now, now, Harry, don’t prejudge what I am about to teach you. Keep your mind open and willing to
receive the information I am about to impart. I stress, it cannot be more valuable.’

‘Go on,’ Harry said slowly, his interest peaked.

‘Let me ask you a question,’ Dumbledore began, ‘what would you do if, during your inevitable
face off with Voldemort, he casts (and he will) a Killing Curse in your direction?’

Harry raised an eyebrow in thought. ‘Dodge it?’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘If you can’t?’

‘I don’t know…’ Harry trailed off. ‘Die?’ This was said as a joke.

Dumbledore shook his head. ‘It’s not funny,’ he rebuked Harry. ‘It shames me that so many
wizards in this day and age pay no attention to the spells they learned in school. Oh, do not get
me wrong, not everyone can perform the spells I will teach you. Only a select few have the power to
magically tap into enough energy to pull them off – and I believe you are one of them. But even so,
those unable too are in no way ill equipped to defend themselves and indeed, others, from Voldemort
and his Death Eaters.’

‘What’s your point?’ Harry demanded, getting a little irritated with Dumbledores roundabout way
of teaching.

‘What if I told you that the Killing Curse is, in fact, not unblockable, like so many believe?
What if I told you that you already know the spell that will protect you from it?’

Harry was silent a moment, pondering Dumbledore’s words. When the Headmaster made no sign of
answering his own questions, Harry prompted him with, ‘So, tell me already.’

‘The Levitation Charm,’ Dumbledore said, very simply.

‘The Levitation Charm…’ Harry didn’t allow any emotion to show in his words, he just repeated
them, almost in disbelief, or maybe to assure himself he had heard correctly.

‘While you cannot use a magic barrier to protect yourself from the Killing Curse, simply moving
an object into its path will negate the spells effect. The object will be destroyed, of course, but
you will remain unharmed. Providing you are not struck by a stray bit of rubble. Thus is the
Killing Curse blocked. Now, unless you have the misfortune of fighting Voldemort in an empty void,
you should have plenty of objects to be your shield.’

Harry allowed himself a grim smile. ‘It’s so simple,’ he said, chastising himself, ‘so simple
its brilliant. No one would even consider using a spell you learn in your first year to counter the
most powerful spell in existence.’

‘Even I did not consider it until I was considerably older than you,’ Dumbledore admitted. ‘The
last vestiges of youthful arrogance giving way to aging wisdom.’

‘You said you would teach me offensive spells, how does this relate?’ Harry asked.

‘It doesn’t,’ Dumbledore confessed, ‘I but thought it was a lesson worth knowing. Now then, let
us proceed with your actual lesson. First up – Advanced Transfiguration.’

‘Transfiguration?’ Harry queried.

‘Transfiguration like you have never imagined,’ Dumbledore elaborated. ‘You know the basics of
Transfiguration, how to transform an object into something else entirely. What I will teach you
only a select few have the ability to perform - Voldemort and myself included.’

‘Well?’ Harry prompted.

‘Harry, I am going to teach you how to transfigure even the smallest element of the earth. What
the Muggles call atoms.’

‘Why?’ Harry asked.

‘Why? Think on it. To be able to create something from thin air is a power anyone would
desire.’

‘But I can already do that,’ Harry said. ‘Flame Charms can create fire and so on.’

‘Not on this level,’ Dumbledore replied. ‘With this, you could turn an entire room into a
blazing inferno of fire. What’s more, you can turn another’s spell into whatever you wanted.
Someone casts a Flame Charm at you; you could simply turn it into water with a flick of your wand,
or render it back down to nothingness. Remember what I said, Harry. The Killing Curse can be
blocked, and very easily, if you master this art. If you find yourself without an object to protect
yourself…’

‘I could create one,’ Harry said, catching on, a greedy smile of lust appearing on his face.

‘Precisely.’

‘Alright,’ Harry said, pulling out his wand, ready to learn, ‘where do we start?’

Dumbledore brandished his own wand and the lessons continued.

(----)

Draco Malfoy was walking on eggshells.

Things with Ginny had never been better, but despite this, he was incredibly worried that she
would find out he had initiated the fight with Neville. He knew he should have told her the truth,
but he couldn’t help but fear how far her forgiveness would stretch. So he had lied to her.
Again.

Not his best move.

Only Harry knew the truth of the encounter, but his best friend had thankfully remained silent.
Not that Draco had thought he wouldn’t. He would never have told Harry if he thought that way. No,
Harry was very good about minding his business. The rest of their friends had no idea. They all
believed Neville had started the fight. Why Neville hadn’t told anyone the truth was surprising,
but Draco figured it was some stupid Gryffindor thing. He probably thought he deserved Ginny’s
scorn.

The idiot.

At the moment, Ginny was sitting comfortably close to him, their legs touching, her nose buried
in a Potions textbook. Draco watched as her intense green eyes studied the page, how her tongue
poked out between her teeth ever so slightly, how she occasionally sucked on it in thought. She was
adorable.

He loved her. That was pretty obvious. It never stopped surprising him. Draco Malfoy, once a
full-fledged member of Slytherin’s Elite, was completely, head over heels in love with a Muggle
loving Gryffindor. He smiled to himself. He didn’t care anymore. As long as he could keep her, he
didn’t care.

It didn’t matter that he was a disowned son of a disgraced family. It didn’t matter that his
housemates had shunned him as a traitor and a coward. Nothing mattered as long as Ginny was his.
She was everything to him.

His smile turned into a momentary grimace.

Ugh, how sappy.

Draco Malfoy – pansy ass Hufflepuff.

Bloody brilliant.

He smiled again.

He didn’t care.

He could feel Ginny’s leg against his own.

Oh yeah, he didn’t care.

Not one bit.

(----)

By the time November rolled around, Harry was becoming more efficient in Advanced
Transfiguration. He was nowhere near Dumbledore’s level yet, but he knew he would get there.

It was a hell of a lot more complicated than a normal spell. For one, he had to memorize all of
the correct incantations, in Latin, for all of the different elements, and then the correct
transfiguring conditions. Not to mention the shear amount of energy it took to pull off the spells.
The first time he had tried one and nothing happened, he had been a bit disappointed. Dumbledore
assured him it was normal, told him to try again, and to put as much energy into the spell as he
could, so he did. He could hardly stand for the rest of the day, and all he had managed to create
was a small lick of flame. Dumbledore guaranteed him he would learn to conserve and condense the
energy eventually.

He did. Or at least, he was.

The same progress could not be said about his training with Professor Oniki, but the less said
about that, the better.

When Dumbledore summoned him for another lesson, Harry was expecting another few hours of
gruelling practice, but he was to be surprised.

‘Ah, Harry, excellent,’ Dumbledore greeted him from behind his desk. ‘Please, have a seat. I
have something I wish to discuss with you first.’

‘Okay,’ Harry said, taking the offered seat. He sat patiently, waiting for Dumbledore to begin,
although inside he was burning with curiosity. It had almost become a game between them. Dumbledore
had lectured Harry on his impatience many a time during their training, telling him it was a burden
he should cast aside. Harry had argued that he wasn’t impatient. It was Dumbledore and his
mysterious ways that brought it out in him. Ever since then, Harry had been keeping an outwardly
calm face, even though he was often frustrated beyond measure with Dumbledore’s less than direct
ways.

Sitting across from the aged wizard, Harry smiled tolerantly.

Dumbledore chuckled softly at Harry’s posturing and began, ‘I have discovered some information
that is rather interesting.’ He let the sentence trail away, steadfastly looking Harry in the eye.
Harry continued to smile benignly back at him. Dumbledore shook his head and continued, ‘The
possible location of a Horcrux.’

Harry managed to conceal his surprise. ‘Explain.’

‘I uncovered information about Rowena Ravenclaw and her descendents. Evidently, her line lives
on in France. I wasn’t the only one to discover this, though.’

‘Voldemort.’

‘Correct,’ Dumbledore affirmed. ‘Before he openly became Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle visited the
family. I think he took something of hers to add to his collection.’

‘Any idea what, and where it is now?’

‘Actually,’ Dumbledore said, ‘I have been long thinking about the diary Voldemort entrusted to
Lucius Malfoy.’

‘What about it?’ Harry asked interestedly.

‘Perhaps - and this is just conjecture at this point, you understand – perhaps, Voldemort
entrusted other members of his inner circle with similar objects. His most loyal followers.’

Harry’s eyes lit up. ‘Barty Crouch Junior,’ he said.

‘My assumption as well,’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘I looked into the younger Crouch. Turns out he had
a vault at Gringotts. Shortly after he was apprehended and administered with the Dementors Kiss,
the vault was robbed. The Goblins had it covered up. Bad for business, you see.’

‘So,’ Harry said, with a sigh, ‘the Horcrux could be anywhere by now. And you have no idea what
it might be?’

‘Not yet,’ Dumbledore admitted. ‘But I will not stop looking.’

‘I’ll try and think of possible locations Voldemort may have hidden it,’ Harry said. ‘It’s not
exactly a stretch to conclude he was the one behind the theft.’

‘Indeed. Now, on with your lessons.’

(----)



‘So Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort stole something of Rowena Ravenclaws, and that it was,
until recently, in Barty Crouch Juniors possession,’ Harry finished the tale.

He was talking with Hermione, Draco and Ginny in the Head’s common room. He and Draco sat in the
comfortable wingback chairs in front of the blazing fire; their respective women perched snugly in
their laps.

‘It’s pretty sketchy,’ Draco observed, ever the pessimist.

‘Most things concerning Voldemort are,’ Harry replied. ‘We just have to go with our instincts.
And my instincts say we have it right.’

‘So what do you think the object is? And where do you think You Know Who hid it?’ Ginny asked,
still with her head resting on Draco’s chest.

‘I don’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘The Horcrux could be anything really. As for where Voldemort
hid it… it would be someplace important to him. Significant. Unfortunately, we don’t know all that
much about him. Several years of his life are completely unaccounted for.’

‘So how are you supposed to figure it out and destroy the Horcrux?’ Ginny asked.

‘Like I said, I’m going to trust my instincts. It’ll come to me.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘It has too,’ Harry replied.

‘Well, Dumbledore found the ring in the ruins of the Gaunt house,’ Hermione began. ‘The diary
was entrusted to Draco’s father.’ Draco snorted disdainfully. ‘The locket was a fake, but it was,
at some point, hidden away in a cave related to Voldemort’s childhood. We suspect it ended up in
Grimmauld Place somehow and that Mundungus Fletcher stole it. Hufflepuff’s Cup is another potential
Horcrux, but we have no idea where that might be, same with Ravenclaw’s. The last one, besides
Voldemort himself, is most likely the snake Nagini. Is that right, Harry?’

‘Yeah Hermione,’ Harry said, ‘that’s all of them.’

‘Well, one of them is kept with him at all times – Nagini – and he also gave two more to his
Death Eaters – the diary and Ravenclaw’s heirloom. So far, we know for sure that he hid two of them
– the ring and the locket. Ravenclaw’s heirloom is no longer in Barty Crouch Juniors possession, so
Voldemort has either given it to another Death Eater or hidden it someplace important to him. Lets
assume he did the later – after all, it’s probably the safer bet in these turbulent times. Where
could he have hidden it? It would be someplace important to him…’

‘He worked at Borgin and Burkes,’ Draco offered.

‘It’s too public,’ Harry said. ‘Anyone could stumble upon it.’

‘The Orphanage?’ Hermione tried.

‘He hated the place,’ Harry said.

‘Didn’t he live in Albania for a while, after he tried to kill you?’ Ginny asked.

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, ‘but if he hid it there, we’d never find it. It’d be like looking for a
needle in a haystack. Let’s just hope he didn’t.’

‘I’m drawing a blank,’ Hermione admitted.

‘Wait a second,’ Draco said, his face lighting up. ‘Ginny, you’re a genius.’

‘What?’ Ginny turned her confused face up towards Draco.

‘I’ve been trying to think about places that where important to Voldemort before he was defeated
by Harry the first time,’ Draco said. ‘I never even considered places that would have recently
become important to him.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Harry asked.

‘The graveyard where his father is buried,’ Draco said.

‘Of course,’ Hermione said, with a cute excited squeak, ‘it was where he was reborn. What could
be more important than that?’

Harry shook his head in wonder, smirking. ‘Draco Malfoy, I could kiss you.’

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Draco snapped back, raising a finger accusingly.

Ginny laughed. ‘What about me?’

Draco locked eyes with Ginny, surprised. They hadn’t kissed since getting back together. She
smiled at him with adoration. He shrugged. ‘You can *definitely* kiss me.’

‘Maybe later,’ Ginny teased. Draco pouted with disappointment. ‘Aww, how can I resist that
pout?’

‘I’m not pouting,’ Draco argued.

‘Just shut up and kiss me already,’ Ginny shot back. He did.

Harry cleared his throat loudly. ‘We’ll leave you guys alone,’ Harry said, lifting Hermione up
off his lap. She gave a small gasp at the sudden motion as Harry set her down on her feet. ‘Let’s
go tell Dumbledore,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the door.

‘Harry,’ Hermione said, ‘it’s nearly eleven. He’s probably already in bed.’

‘Then we’ll wake him up.’

(----)

They did.

To say Dumbledore was surprised to find Harry Potter and Hermione Granger knocking on his door
at eleven o’clock at night was an understatement. He tugged his night robe closer about him and
cleared his throat. ‘Ah, Harry,’ Dumbledore turned his eyes to Hermione, giving her a little nod,
‘and his lovely lady, Miss Granger. What a nice surprise. May I ask what you are doing knocking on
my door at this late hour?’

‘Sorry for the intrusion, sir,’ Hermione spoke before Harry, casting her impatient (not to
mention rude! Honestly!) boyfriend a scathing look. ‘Apparently it just couldn’t wait until
morning.’

‘Sir,’ Harry said, getting the Headmasters attention, ‘I know where the Ravenclaw Horcrux
is.’

Dumbledore’s demeanour immediately changed. He straightened up and pushed his spectacles up his
nose. ‘You are sure?’

‘I am,’ Harry said.

‘Hardly,’ Hermione contradicted. ‘It’s just a guess, sir.’

‘It’s not,’ Harry argued, ‘I can feel it. We have it right.’

‘And where might this location be?’

‘The gravesite of Tom Riddle Senior,’ Harry said.

‘And the place Voldemort was reborn,’ finished Hermione.

With a light in his eye, Dumbledore said, ‘Wait here, I’ll be right back,’ and then rushed into
his adjoined bedchamber.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Harry shrugged. Hermione bit her lip in thought. A few
seconds passed.

‘You’re so rude,’ Hermione commented, rather randomly.

‘Excuse me? What did I do?’ Harry asked, offended.

‘Knocking on his door at eleven, it’s just… I just wasn’t raised that way,’ Hermione said, a
little bit snobbish. ‘It’s just not seemly.’

Harry grinned. ‘You’re too cute,’ he said. She glared at him indignantly, but his grin only
widened, forcing a reflecting smile to break out on her face.

‘Impolite prat,’ she said.

‘Uptight bint,’ he returned.

Hermione chuckled. ‘You’ll pay for that,’ she said, lowly.

‘Can’t wait,’ he said, equally low.

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Dumbledore asked, emerging from his bedchamber, dressed in
midnight blue robes and a long dark cloak.

‘Nothing,’ Harry replied.

‘Sir, where are you going?’ Hermione asked, her eyes widening.

‘*We* are going to get that Horcrux,’ Dumbledore said, giving her his trademark twinkling
eye. ‘Ready?’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Hermione very nearly shouted. ‘It’s near midnight - definitely not the
time for nightly excursions to graveyards. Especially on nothing more than a hunch!’

‘I believe that Harry is correct,’ Dumbledore said. ‘His intuition in this case… I trust more
than anyone’s. You may stay if you wish, but we are going, aren’t we Harry?’

‘Definitely,’ Harry said, but he offered Hermione his hand, ‘come on Hermione, let’s go.’

‘You’re both mad,’ she said, taking Harry’s proffered hand.

‘Quite,’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘Now then, we’ll travel by Portkey. Are you ready?’

‘Always,’ Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled and reached into his robes. He pulled out an old pink sweet wrapper and
offered it to the young couple. Harry took one end. Hermione took the other.

‘Three, two, one,’ Dumbledore counted down, and then they vanished.

Night surrounded them as they appeared in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. The moon shone down
on them ominously, breaking through the clouds periodically. Hermione immediately took Harry’s
hand. He gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand.

‘This way,’ he said, leading them through the chillingly familiar graves towards the resting
place of Tom Riddle Senior. He could almost see the flash of green light that had ended Cedric
Diggory’s life, hear the steaming boil of the cauldron that birthed the new Lord Voldemort. He shut
it all out.

‘Are you okay?’ Hermione whispered.

‘Hnn… what?’

‘You’re shaking.’

Harry forced himself to stop. ‘I’m fine,’ he lied.

‘I believe this is the place,’ Dumbledore called, from several spaces behind them. Harry turned
to see Dumbledore standing by the grave of Voldemort’s father. He had been so intent on remaining
calm that he had walked right by it without even noticing.

‘Yeah,’ he said, looking away, embarrassed at being caught in a weak moment.

Dumbledore pretended not to notice.

‘So, where do you think it could be?’ Hermione asked.

‘It’s there,’ Harry said. ‘He buried it.’ Harry pointed at the spot where the senior Riddle
rested in “peace”. Harry doubted there was much peace in it.

‘How do you know?’ Hermione asked.

‘I…’ Harry smirked sourly. ‘I can feel the dirt on my hands. His hands. He buried it himself,
alone, so no one would know except himself.’

‘A secret best kept by one,’ Dumbledore said, apparently not disturbed at all by Harry’s deep
connection with Voldemort.

‘Guess that doesn’t really work when you’re magically linked to another wizard,’ Harry commented
grimly.

‘Evidently,’ Dumbledore agreed.

Meanwhile, Hermione had removed her hand from Harry’s and had walked a bit away from them. Harry
spared her a quick glance, cursed under his breath, and then got back to business. He’d have to
deal with it later.

‘Let’s get to work,’ Harry said. ‘It won’t dig itself up.’

Harry and Dumbledore rolled up their sleeves.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

The night was suddenly too cold for her.

‘Argh!’ Harry pulled his hands free from the earth and held them up before his face. Angry red
skin steamed at him, blistering where his hands had touched the ground. Dumbledore stopped before
his hands could come into contact with the obviously cursed soil. ‘Son of a bitch!’ Harry ground
his teeth together as the redness began to fade. His hands no longer steamed.

‘Harry?’ Hermione called, worry obvious in her voice. She hovered a few feet away, obviously
still too freaked out to come any closer. ‘What’s wrong?’

Harry allowed himself a grim smile – at least she still cared enough to voice her worry. ‘He
cursed the ground. If we want the Horcrux, one of us is going to have to severely burn their
hands.’

‘That’s madness,’ Hermione said.

‘War is madness, Miss Granger,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I will do it. You’re too valuable Harry, and I
would never ask it of a student. I’m the only choice.’

‘You sure?’ Harry asked.

‘I am,’ Dumbledore affirmed.

‘Stop it!’ Hermione screamed. ‘Are you two insane? Casually talking about this madness - I can’t
believe it! Nothing is worth this!’

‘Hermione,’ Harry said, giving her a steely stare, ‘you’re right. It is insane, but it’s the
only way we’re going to defeat Voldemort. You can’t understand it because you’re not…’ Harry
glanced at Dumbledore, a self-deprecating smirk on his face, ‘you’re not like us. It’s what I love
most about you.’

‘No,’ Hermione said, shaking her head, ‘Harry, you can’t let him do it. If you won’t stop him, I
will!’

‘You will not, Miss Granger,’ Dumbledore said, quietly, but commandingly.

Hermione went silent, staring at them in shock. Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘No,’ she
repeated, ‘I don’t care what you say, I won’t – oh!’ Hermione’s eyes went wide, then drooped shut.
She fell limply to the floor.

Dumbledore pocketed his wand.

Harry ran to Hermione and knelt beside her, feeling for her pulse. It was there, steady and
clear. He glared at Dumbledore. ‘What did you do?’

‘A simple sleeping spell,’ Dumbledore said. ‘She will be fine. Let’s get on with this.’

Harry clenched his teeth. He would rage at Dumbledore later. ‘Go on then,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll
keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.’

Dumbledore nodded, readied himself, and then plunged his hands into the ground. He dug into it,
eyes closed in pain, grimacing as steam began to rise from the disturbed ground. Harry stared at
him as Dumbledore continued to dig, heedless of the burning in his hands. With a groan of pain, the
aged wizard removed his burnt and blistered hands from the enchanted earth and gasped in several
deep breaths.

‘Sir?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Dumbledore ground out. ‘I won’t give up. Just… need one moment.’

‘We could take turns,’ Harry said. ‘That way, we might be able to avoid severe damage.’

‘No,’ Dumbledore interrupted. ‘I won’t risk you. This curse is powerful. It would destroy both
our hands. I must do it alone.’

Harry nodded. Dumbledore plunged his hands once more into the burning pain.

‘Nngg.’ Dumbledore grunted as he dug. ‘I feel something. I’m almost there.’

‘Hurry up then!’

‘Got it!’ Dumbledore fell back, his destroyed, blackened hands clutching a metallic box. Harry
pulled out his wand and tried the few healing magic he knew, but none of them worked. ‘Forget it,
Harry. No Healer will be able to cure these hands. Take the box.’

Harry gentled removed the box from Dumbledore’s hands. He eased it to the ground and took a deep
breath. Would Voldemort have cursed the box as well? Harry ran his wand over it a few times,
mumbling incantations under his breath. He couldn’t detect anything, but that didn’t mean there was
nothing there to detect.

‘Open it,’ Dumbledore gasped, forcing himself to sit up, his mangled hands lying limply in his
lap. Harry couldn’t help but stare at them. Dumbledore wouldn’t be holding a wand anymore.

‘You shouldn’t have done it,’ Harry said, all of a sudden. ‘We could have come back anytime.
With anyone… someone else… someone less valuable.’

‘No,’ Dumbledore said, ‘I would ask this of no one. Would you?’

Harry sighed noncommittally.

‘Harry,’ Dumbledore went on, ‘open the box.’

Harry nodded in consent and took hold of both sides of the rectangular box. He steeled himself,
and then flipped the lip. Nothing happened. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, and then studied
the contents. It was a wand.

‘Rowena Ravenclaw’s wand?’

‘Dear Merlin,’ Dumbledore gasped.

‘How do we destroy it?’ Harry asked.

‘The sword of Gryffindor,’ Dumbledore said. ‘We must make haste back to Hogwarts. Help me up,
please.’

Harry grabbed Dumbledore by the upper arm and heaved the disabled wizard to his feet. Harry
walked over to Hermione and gently lifted her up, supporting her weight against him. ‘How are we
getting back?’

‘We’ll Apparate just outside of Hogwarts,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Ready?’

‘Can you… without your wand in your hand?’ Harry asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. ‘Do not doubt me,’ Dumbledore said. ‘As long as I have my wand on my
person, I should be okay.’

Harry formed a line with his mouth, unsure whether he should believe Dumbledore’s word. If Harry
himself had been crippled, would he have admitted being all but useless? Not bloody likely. With a
sigh, he conceded. ‘I’m ready,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Harry gently picked up Hermione, then, with simultaneously muffled cracks the two wizards (and
the unconscious witch) disappeared.

Two blackened hands remained, lying on the ground where Dumbledore had left them behind.



22. Chapter Twenty-Two
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** One thing. In this chapter I state that true Gryffindors can only wield the
Sword of Gryffindor. To the best of my knowledge, this is a load of bull. I made it up for the
purpose of this story. Dumbledore mentions something along the lines of Harry only being able to
pull the sword out of the Sorting Hat because he’s a true Gryffindor, or something, which is were I
got the idea, but that’s as far as it goes I think. Either way, let’s just pretend it’s true. It
certainly is for my story. Thanks.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Two
There was no blood.

It was a terrible sight, one Harry would not soon be forgetting, but at least there was no
blood. The arms just ended, shortly down Dumbledore’s forearm, with two smooth stumps. It wasn’t
pretty, but it could have been worse. Of course, they could easily reattach them, but really, what
was the point? His hands were ruined and reattaching them wouldn’t change that.

Harry didn’t know what was worse for Dumbledore, losing his hands, or suffering the humiliation
of splinching himself. Harry likened it to getting old and no longer being in control of your own
mind or body. Dumbledore was damn near a squib without his hands. At best, he would only be able to
perform the most basics spells, and certainly nothing difficult like Apparition.

Voldemort had scored another victory and Harry had let it happen.

He sat in the Head’s common room, staring at the plain metal box in his hands, wondering.
Dumbledore was still in the Hospital Wing, recovering from the shock of splinching himself. Harry
had the wand of Rowena Ravenclaw, the password to Dumbledore’s office, and he could easily use the
Sword of Gryffindor to destroy the Horcrux.

But he hesitated.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure why.

Perhaps because he wanted Dumbledore present when he did it?

Or maybe because he wondered if he really *would* be able to do it.

It was probably the latter.

The Sword of Gryffindor was reputable, and it was said that only true Gryffindors could wield
it. As a Slytherin, it might be a little tricky. Then again, the Sorting Hat did offer him his own
choice of house. Just because he was in Slytherin didn’t mean he belonged there. Maybe he would be
able to wield it and destroy the Horcrux.

Hermione emerged from her private chambers, looking a little groggy, rubbing at her head as she
wandered into the room. She stopped when she noticed Harry sitting before the fire. Her eyes
clouded over as she remembered the events just prior to waking up in her room. Anger narrowed her
eyes. She set her mouth in a firm line, pushed aside her confusion, and stormed up in front of
Harry.

The bitter tirade she was about to deliver died at the look on Harry’s face. She sank to the
floor before him and put her hands on his knees. ‘Harry?’ she tried softly. ‘What happened?’

‘We got the Horcrux,’ Harry said, offering her the box with the wand in.

Hermione took the box and peered inside, her eyes widening at its contents. ‘What about
Dumbledore? His hands… are they okay?’

‘He lost them,’ Harry said, quietly, taking the box back. ‘Burnt them and then left them behind
when he tried to Apparate back to Hogwarts.’

‘Dumbledore splinched himself?’ Hermione was appalled at the idea, shocked to her very core.

‘I never should have let him,’ Harry said. ‘I knew he wasn’t up to it without his wand in his
hand.’

‘You let him dig then…’ Hermione didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, not when Harry was
obviously feeling bad about it, but that’s how it sounded.

‘Of course,’ Harry said. ‘There was no other way.’

‘You could have done something,’ Hermione said, trying to think of just what they could have
done.

‘Like what?’

‘Used a shovel,’ Hermione tried, knowing it was stupid even as she said it.

Harry laughed bitterly. ‘A shovel? Don’t be stupid Hermione. It doesn’t suit you. Voldemort
enchanted the soil to protect the Horcrux. It was designed so that only a person digging with his
hands would have got through. It was the same with the locket. Nothing else worked. We tried to
drain the basin with magic, but it failed. You had to drink the potion to get the locket, and thus
incapacitate yourself. Same with the wand. By the time you reached it, your hands would be all but
useless, and you wouldn’t even be able to pick it up. We only succeeded because we went as a
unit.’

‘Dumbledore didn’t have to dig with both hands,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘He could have used one
and still retained his wand hand.’

‘Wouldn’t have worked either,’ Harry said. ‘It was strong magic Hermione. His hand wouldn’t have
survived long enough to reach the wand. It would have been obliterated. No, even with two hands he
barely reached it in time. We got lucky, actually.’

‘You call this lucky? Dumbledore has been crippled,’ Hermione argued.

Harry remained silent. He just didn’t know how to respond to that. She was right, in a way. But
at the same time, Dumbledore could have suffered more pain if he hadn’t found the wand so quickly.
Splinching himself was almost a mercy, at least he cauterised the wound nicely. Of course, Harry
wasn’t considering the mental pain Dumbledore was no doubt suffering.

The silence that descended between the couple was anything but comfortable. Hermione sat back on
her bottom and wrapped her arms around her knees, laying her head down across her arms. She finally
broke the silence, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were that connected to Voldemort?’

‘It scares you? Freaks you out?’ Harry asked.

‘Of course it does,’ Hermione said. ‘You feel what he feels. Does that mean he feels what you
feel?’

‘Probably,’ Harry admitted. ‘Sometimes.’

‘…when we make love?’ Hermione asked.

Harry turned his head away from her, unable to answer - unable to lie.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and tried to fight away tears. ‘I deserved to know that,’ she
said. ‘To know that my most intimate moments were being shared with someone other than you. And
Voldemort no less.’

‘He might not have,’ Harry said. ‘He… we both try and block each other out. It’s not always
successful, but most times we can. Why do you think I learnt Occlumency? For all I know, he hasn’t
ever… I’m sure he wouldn’t want too. It’d be torture for him. Love like… ours…’

‘But you can’t be sure,’ Hermione said.

‘No.’ Harry squeezed the box in his hands. ‘Are we okay?’

‘I don’t know,’ Hermione said. ‘I’ll need some time.’

Harry sighed. ‘Fine,’ he said, getting up. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Where are you going?’ Hermione asked, trying to hide her hurt at his sudden dismissal of
her.

‘To destroy the Horcrux.’



The wand of Rowena Ravenclaw lay on the table beside the Sword of Gryffindor. Harry sat before
them, staring at the objects, contemplating the task at hand. Fawkes the Phoenix watched him from
his perch.

‘What are you looking at?’ Harry demanded, glaring at the flamboyant bird.

Fawkes glared back.

Harry sighed and stood up, pacing before Dumbledores desk. He was afraid, and it wasn’t
something he was used too. The sword wouldn’t hurt him if he tried to touch it and was found
unworthy, so it wasn’t physical pain he feared. It was rejection. At heart, he had always believed
himself a Gryffindor. He chose to be a member of Slytherin to get to know his enemy, but how much
had that decision changed him. Was he more Slytherin than Gryffindor now?

Probably.

‘What do you think Fawkes?’ Harry asked the phoenix, and then snorted at himself. Talking to a
bird. Wonderful.

He reached out his hand, hovering it over the sword. His hand trembled.

‘Come on Potter,’ he said out loud, encouraging himself, ‘pick it up. Pick. It. Up.’

Fawkes ruffled his feathers and hopped about on his perch. Harry shot the bird another dark
look. Fawkes looked back, almost mocking him with his bird’s eyes. Harry growled.

‘Fine,’ he said between ground teeth. ‘Mock me all you want birdie. I’ll prove you wrong. I’m
not afraid.’

Fawkes ruffled his feathers again, hopped about.

Harry grasped the handle of the blade. Nothing happened. He lifted it. Still nothing. A faint
smile appeared on his face.

‘Okay,’ Harry said, setting his sights on the prone wand, ‘hard parts over. Ready Fawkes?’

Ruffle. Hop.

‘Here we go,’ Harry said, and swung the blade.

It happened so fast. The wand was rent in two, unleashing a dark green force from the center of
the break. Harry was flung backwards onto his back, the Sword of Gryffindor flung across the room
to impale itself into the wall just beside Fawkes. The jet of dark green energy surged into the
air, curved, and aimed for Harry. Harry held up his hands, as if he could ward it off that way.
White light burst from between his fingers, creating a shield against the energy. They merged, and
cancelled each other out.

Harry lay panting on the floor, gasping for breath, sweat marring his brow.

Finally, he got control of himself, and sat up. He looked over at Fawkes, who returned his look
darkly, glancing between Harry and the blade that had almost impaled him.

Harry laughed, a little insanely. ‘Sorry Fawkes,’ he said, getting to his feet. He approached
the desk and the now broken wand - the destroyed Horcrux. It was just two bits of splintered wood
now, core poking out unevenly. Harry picked them up and studied them for a moment, before placing
them back in the box. Then he removed the sword from the wall and positioned it back in its proper
place.

‘Could have been worse, huh Fawkes?’

Ruffle. Hop.



A set of snakelike eyes open in surprise and alarm. White teeth show in a snarl of pure
hatred.



Harry was halfway down the seventh floor hallway when the overwhelming rage of Voldemort brought
him to his knees. Eyes wide and panting, Harry tried to fight of the mental and emotional
onslaught. His lips drew back in a snarl of hatred, matching Voldemort’s own, thought whether it
was his own will or not, he didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight. Voldemort was overpowering
him. He cried out.

Then fainted.



‘He knows,’ Harry said.

He was lying in the hospital wing. Draco and Ginny sat by his bed, while Hermione hovered near
his feet. She made a harsh tutting noise at this piece of information, gave Harry a quick angry
look, and then left the room. Draco and Ginny exchanged puzzled glances.

‘What was that about?’ Ginny asked.

‘It’s private,’ Harry replied sharply.

Ginny went to open her mouth again, but Draco shook his head. She let it go.

‘So, what does this mean?’ Ginny asked instead.

‘It means thins have got considerably harder,’ Harry said. ‘Voldemort will be protecting his
remaining Horcruxes like never before.’

‘We never seem to get a break, do we?’ Draco said, derisively.

‘It’s not been the best two days of my life,’ Harry admitted, glancing over at the drawn
curtains that hid Dumbledore from view.

Ginny followed his gaze. ‘Will he be okay?’

‘He’ll live,’ Harry said. ‘But that’s about all he’ll do.’ Harry chuckled darkly. ‘I’m on my own
now. No more Dumbledore to protect me.’

‘Like you ever needed it,’ Draco argued.

‘Believe me,’ Harry said, ‘I hate to admit it, but I did. We wouldn’t have survived last year if
Dumbledore hadn’t come to the rescue. I wasn’t ready then. I’m not ready now.’

‘You still have us,’ Ginny said. ‘We’ll fight by your side all the way. Hermione and Ron
too.’

‘I know you will,’ Harry said.

‘Err,’ a nervous voice broke into the moment.

Neville cleared his throat. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I just… wanted to see if you were alright…
Harry.’

‘I’m fine Neville,’ Harry said. ‘Thanks for your concern.’

‘Yeah,’ Neville replied, ‘no problem.’

‘Let’s get out of here Draco,’ Ginny said, getting up and taking her boyfriends hand pointedly.
She refused to look at Neville. Draco couldn’t help the smirk that came to his face as Ginny
dragged him past the humbled boy.

‘Later Harry,’ Draco called cheerily.

Neville sighed and took a seat. ‘She hates me now,’ he said morosely.

‘Suck it up,’ Harry said. ‘You’re going to have to fight for her if you want her. Feeling sorry
for yourself certainly won’t work.’

‘Yeah,’ Neville said, ‘I know. It’s just… I don’t know what happened. I’ve never hit anyone
before. I just lost it. He drives me insane. What does she see in him? He’s a prat.’

Harry laughed. ‘That he is,’ he agreed.

‘Why are you even friends with him?’

‘It’s complicated’ Harry said.

‘Isn’t everything?’



‘What’s going on with Harry and Hermione?’ Ginny asked as she and Draco entered the Head Boys
bedchambers.

‘No idea,’ Draco admitted, shutting the door behind them. ‘I’m just glad it’s someone else who’s
having problems, and not us.’

‘Draco, that’s cruel,’ Ginny admonished, turning to face him.

He gave her a teasing smirk and she hit him on the arm with a smile. ‘Prat,’ she accused.

‘Isn’t that why you love me?’ he teased, still smirking.

Ginny faced the wall and laughed. ‘I don’t know why I love you,’ she admitted.

Draco put his hands on his shoulders. ‘To be honest, as long as you do, I don’t give a crap
why,’ he said.

‘Well,’ Ginny turned into his arms, ‘I do.’

‘I do, as well,’ Draco said, a bit stiffly.

Ginny giggled. ‘Try that again sometime. Maybe in front of a mirror.’

‘Hey,’ Draco pouted, ‘I’m trying here.’

‘I know,’ Ginny said, standing on tiptoes to kiss him.

‘It’s hard for me,’ Draco said. ‘Harry says we’re emotionally stunted, or whatever. It’s like;
stuff that comes normally to other people… doesn’t to us. We didn’t grow up in loving environments,
so… you know.’

‘I get it,’ Ginny said. ‘It’s hard for you to say it.’

‘Sorry,’ Draco mumbled.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Ginny said, ‘I know just who I’m with here. I don’t expect grandiose
confirmations of love. Frankly, I think I’d be sick. A rose or two, maybe, but…’

Draco held up a rose before her, and she laughed delightedly. He grinned, a little embarrassed.
Ginny took it and looked at him over its soft petals.

‘If you can’t say it,’ Ginny said, ‘then why don’t you show me?’ She raised her eyebrows
meaningfully.

Draco’s embarrassed smile turned into a smirk. ‘*That*, I can do,’ he said.

With a flick of his wand, the light in the bedchamber went out.



Ron followed Luna as she led him into the Forbidden Forest.

‘Where are we going exactly?’ he asked, as she easily managed her way trough the maze of trees.
Ron struggled to keep up, tripping over camouflaged tree trunks and almost walking into low hanging
branches on several occasions.

‘It’s a surprise,’ Luna called back to him from the thicket. Her voice lured him on, as he could
no longer see her.

‘Isn’t this place forbidden for a reason,’ Ron mentioned in attempted nonchalance, looking about
nervously.

‘We’ll be okay if we don’t go too far in,’ Luna said.

He rounded a particularly thick tree to find Luna kneeling by a stream of water, her bare feet
against the wet pebbles. He slowly approached, looking down over her shoulder. A flower was growing
from between the pebbles, purple petals sprouting from a thick yellowish center. Some strange kind
of sap oozed down the petals.

‘What is that?’ Ron asked.

‘It’s a special flower,’ Luna said in her singsong voice. ‘Very rare. It can only grow in
certain situations. By water,’ she indicted the small stream, ‘but in relative darkness,’ she
glanced up at the thick branches above, ‘and only in places strong with magical energy. Like this
Forest.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know everything, you know,’ Luna said, turning her head to give him a cheeky smile.

He grinned in response. ‘Sorry.’

‘I call it the Cupidi Flower,’ she informed him, turning her attention back to the beautiful,
magical phenomenon.

‘You call it? Doesn’t it have a name?’ Ron knelt down beside her to get a better look.

‘Most people don’t believe in it,’ Luna said. ‘It has many names, but they’re given in ignorance
of its true beauty, and do not do it justice.’

‘So you named it?’

‘Yes,’ Luna said, catching a drop of the sap on her finger. She held it up.

‘What’s that stuff?’

‘A special secretion only this flower can create,’ Luna said. ‘Very potent. If a potion maker
got his hands on this sap, he could create a true love spell, not like all those pale imitations
out there.’

‘A true love spell?’ Ron stared at the sap in surprise and a little fear. ‘You mean that stuff
can make you fall in love with someone?’

‘Even a tiny amount,’ Luna said. ‘If it fell on your skin, or you ingested it, then you would
fall in love with the first person you saw. I believe the Muggles have a name for it. Cupid.’

‘Is that why you call it Cupidi?’

Luna smiled sweetly, and said, teasingly, ‘Not as dumb as you look, are you?’

‘Hey!’ Ron protested, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Luna returned the look.

Ron frowned suddenly. ‘Wait, if that stuff makes you fall in love with someone when it gets on
your skin,’ he said, looking pointedly at the tiny amount of sap on Luna’s fingertip.

Luna laughed lightly. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I’m immune to it. A person can only love
one.’

‘Oh,’ Ron said, then his eyes widened. ‘Oh…’

Luna giggled. ‘Relax,’ she said. ‘Just watch.’

Ron took a deep breath. ‘Okay,’ he said, and then sat back to watch… whatever he was supposed to
be watching.

After a few minutes of this, Ron couldn’t wait any longer, and asked, ‘What am I supposed to be
watching?’

‘Quiet,’ Luna said. ‘You’ll see.’

Ron went back to watching. Finally, he caught sight of something, shinning its way between the
trees on the other side of the stream. It was tiny, barely a light, like a distant star, but moving
towards them. The light reached them, hovered jerkily around Luna’s finger, and then landed on the
sap. Ron stared in wonder at the tiny being on Luna’s fingertip. It looked like it was made
entirely of light, except for its faint wings and tiny little stinger on its bottom. He had to lean
in close to get a better look, and what he saw astounded him. It was sucking up the sap!

‘What’s it doing? What is it?’

‘Like the flower, it has no name,’ Luna said. ‘The two work in unison - symbiotic life forms
that cannot exist without the other. That’s why I call it the Cupidi Bug. This little guy is the
reason behind the Muggle Cupid legend. At one time, when magic was a much bigger force in the
world, their existence was widely believed in, as they thrived on the magical energy prominent in
the world. Thousand of these flowers and these bugs roamed the world. Now, only a few remain. I
believe the Muggles learnt of these beings from a wizard and that was how their Cupid legend was
born.’

‘So if this thing stings me, I’ll…’

‘Fall in love with the first person you see,’ Luna finished for him. ‘Provided you aren’t
already in love.’

Ron nodded. ‘Well, erm, maybe we should go then,’ he said, nervously.

Luna gently lowered her finger onto the flower, and the little bug flew easily into the center
of the flower, to devour more of the sap. She stood up. ‘I suppose we must,’ she said, and began to
lead the way back.

Ron frowned at her back, then quickly got up to follow her. ‘Luna, wait a second,’ he called,
grabbing her hand. She refused to look at him. ‘Hey, I’m sorry, that was… insensitive of me, or
something. I didn’t mean… you know how much I enjoy spending time with you.’

‘But you don’t love me,’ she said, trying to hide her tears from his face. She hated crying. She
hated that only he could make her cry.

‘I don’t know,’ Ron admitted. ‘Maybe I do. But I don’t want to risk that thing stinging me. Then
I’d have no choice but to love you right? You’d be the first person I’d see. Do you want me to love
you like that?’

‘No,’ Luna said. ‘That’s why we should go.’

‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ Ron asked. ‘I didn’t mean that I don’t love you… just that I’m…
not sure.’

Luna wiped at her tears. ‘I’m not mad,’ she said. ‘Just feeling stupid.’

‘Hey,’ Ron finally turned her to face him. ‘Believe me, you are definitely *not*
stupid.’

‘You like smart girls?’

‘I do,’ Ron said. ‘Very much. If a girl isn’t smarter than me, I’m not interested.’

‘Hmm? You must like a lot of girls then,’ Luna teased, a beautiful smile breaking out on her
tear stained face.

‘Haha,’ Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Come ‘ere you little comedian.’



23. Chapter Twenty-Three
------------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** I was going to try and get this out last night, but boy was I tired. Sorry,
but here it, all nice and shiny. Loved writing this chapter. This is the kind of stuff I love,
especially with the return of an old favourite of mine. A guy I really love to hate. Hope you all
enjoy it as well. Not as long as my usual chapters, mainly because I want to tease you guys with a
cliffhanger. Heehee, I’m so evil, but I do promise I won’t make you wait too long for the next
chapter. Sorry for any typos and stuff, I don’t have a beta reader or anything, so I slip up and
miss things sometimes.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was only a week away from the Christmas holidays when Professor McGonagall, acting head in
Dumbledore’s hospitalised absence, called Harry into her office.

He sat across from her, studying her features. She seemed troubled, more than he had ever seen
her; weary from all the turmoil that surrounded the wizarding world. He cleared this throat,
breaking the tense silence that filled the room. ‘What’s this all about Professor?’

She let out a tired sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Potter. In the current state Albus is in, he is unfit to
be Headmaster of Hogwarts. We all hope he will recover his will soon, but until that happens we are
all on our own. He has done so much to protect you, from everyone, and now…. I’m sorry,
Potter.’

Harry sat up a little straighter, confused about where this all was leading. ‘What are you
getting at Professor?’

‘Potter,’ McGonagall said, ‘the Minister for Magic and a team of Aurors will be arriving shortly
to escort you to the Ministry for questioning.’

‘Questioning,’ Harry repeated. A grimace twisted his face, followed by an amused, but angry
chuckle. ‘Figures. So now that Dumbledore is absent, Rufus is going to get his licks in, is he?
Won’t this be peachy.’

‘I have tried to delay it, P… Harry, but I do not have the influence that Albus has,’ McGonagall
admitted, her guilt showing through her normally stoic countenance.

‘Don’t worry about it, Professor,’ Harry said, getting up. ‘I appreciate the effort. I’m
assuming this isn’t going to be a private matter? Harry Potter hauled off to the Ministry for
questioning headlines the Daily Prophet, along with a classic shot of me being led shamefaced
through the halls of Hogwarts, right?’

‘Harry, please, do not make things worse,’ McGonagall pleaded. ‘The Minister has assured me this
will all go smoothly if you co-operate.’

‘I bet,’ Harry said sarcastically. ‘When exactly?’

‘Any minute now,’ McGonagall said.

‘Brilliant.’

Indeed, just as Harry predicated, the front page of the Daily Prophet was graced with a moving
photograph, showing Harry being led out of Hogwarts surrounded by a group of armed Aurors and the
Minister himself. Students gaped at the sight, while Slytherins in the background laughed and
taunted him.

The headline read:

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED APPREHENDED FOR HOGWARTS ATTACKS

What the newspaper neglected to mention was that, shortly after arriving at the Ministry, Harry
Potter disappeared.

‘Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy,’ Professor McGonagall said, once more seated behind her desk and
looking bone wrenchingly weary, ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news.’

‘Bad news?’ Draco repeated the question.

‘What is this about Professor?’ Hermione asked, frowning.

‘You know how Potter was escorted to the Ministry for questioning, I presume,’ McGonagall
said.

‘How could we not?’ Draco said. ‘Its all the damn school is talking about. And completely
insane, by the way.’

‘I did warn him about angering the Minister,’ Hermione said, in an aside to Draco, ‘but would he
listen to me? Oh no, not the great, invincible Harry Potter.’

‘Shut up, Hermione,’ Draco snapped. ‘Whatever he did to piss you off, get over it. Is it really
worth it? Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.’

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Professor McGonagall spoke before her.

‘That’s enough,’ she said. ‘I didn’t bring you two here to argue. I have some very bad news to
impart, and the last thing I need is you two sniping at each other while I’m trying to do it. Will
you be quiet?’

Draco pinched his lips shut.

‘Sorry Professor,’ Hermione apologised.

‘Thank you,’ Professor McGonagall said. ‘Now…’ she sighed, ‘I really don’t know how to say this.
I’m very sorry, but Harry… Potter has… he has been taken.’

‘Taken?’ Draco asked, confused.

Hermione went silent and still. Her heart thumped nervously.

‘By You-Know-Who, we think,’ McGonagall finished.

Hermione felt her heart in her throat. No, it couldn’t be…

‘Are you joking?’ Draco asked, getting up out of his seat and glaring down at the acting
Headmistress of Hogwarts. ‘Come on, that’s insane, Harry would never let himself be caught!’

‘I’m afraid I am not lying, Mister Malfoy,’ McGonagall repeated bleakly.

‘How?’ Hermione croaked, tears in her eyes.

‘We think he was apprehended by a spy in the Ministry,’ Professor McGonagall explained. ‘He was
left alone in an interrogation room, with Auror guards outside. They were found unconscious. Harry
was gone.’

‘You don’t know for sure…?’ Hermione managed, fighting back her tears and heartbreak. ‘I mean,
he could have… they… you don’t know…’

‘We are quite sure,’ McGonagall said.

‘Fuck!’ Draco roared, kicking over his chair. He rounded on McGonagall. ‘And what are you doing
about it, exactly? Sitting here on your ass while Harry is out there, getting tortured, or worse,
killed!’

‘Mister Malfoy, I assure you - ’

‘Assure my ass,’ Draco yelled. ‘Mobilise the Order! Get them searching! Scan the damn room he
was taken from! Do something!’

As Draco ranted, Hermione sank down in her chair, sobs wracking her body now. He was gone, and
the last they had spoke to each other, she had scorned him. And for what? Keeping some potentially
disturbing news from her? Trying to protect her from an aspect of his life he found shameful?

‘Calm yourself, Mister Malfoy!’

Draco stopped, as if frozen, and turned to face the doorway in surprise. McGonagall followed
suite. Hermione was too wrapped up in her own guilt to realise the significance of the voice.

‘Albus?’

Dumbledore strode into the room powerfully, somehow carrying his old aura, despite his missing
hands. He wore a long sleeved robe to hide his disfigurement.

‘I assure you, Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger, we *will* find Harry.’

Draco stared at the aged wizard doubtfully. ‘How? You can’t even use magic!’

‘I beg to differ,’ Dumbledore said, raising his right arm into the air so that his sleeve fell
down, revealing his wand, strapped tightly to his forearm arm. ‘I will go to the Ministry and scan
the interrogation room. The Order will use all of their contacts to search for Harry. No stone will
be left unturned.’

Dumbledore sank to his knees in front of Hermione, getting her attention. She stared at him
through watery eyes.

‘I promise you. I will bring back Harry Potter.’

Harry heard voices talking out in the hall.

He was locked in a small stone dungeon, chained magically to the wall, stripped of all clothing.
It was freezing, his body was covered in goose bumps, and his toes barely reached the wet cold
floor. There was no light in the room except for the one that seeped through the bars on his cell
door. It was classic prisoner treatment – meant to break down his sense of self, his humanity and
dignity.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here, he was at the Ministry for Magic. He was
escorted into an interrogation room and left alone, with Auror guards outside the door. Like he
would try and run. Then… was there a flash of red light from somewhere? He couldn’t remember
specifically. That was all he could recall.

The voices continued outside his cell. He recognised three of them, but not the fourth.

‘We should dispose of him, right away, before he works his tricks and escapes. Do not forget
woman, I know this boy. He is more powerful than you think.’ This was the first, Harry’s old
Professor - Severus Snape.

‘You assume too much Severus,’ the second said. ‘The Dark Lord will want the boy himself. We
must wait.’ Bellatrix Lestrange.

‘So we can’t kill him,’ the third one said. ‘Can we at least torture him a bit? Come on, old
woman; let me have just half an hour with him. I promise I won’t kill him. Please.’ Blaise Zabini
drew out the please irritatingly.

A harsh slap sounded. ‘Mind you tongue boy,’ Bellatrix snapped.

‘Just let the whelp at him,’ the fourth, unknown voice said, ‘it’ll be less trouble that way. We
have things to discuss anyway.’

‘Fine,’ Bellatrix growled. ‘But call me old woman again and I’ll curse your balls off.’

Blaise laughed his mad laugh. ‘Can I have it?’ he pleaded. ‘I want to do it.’

‘It isn’t your right,’ Bellatrix said.

‘Oh, come on, does it really matter *who* does it?’

‘It isn’t your right,’ Bellatrix repeated sharply. ‘It belongs to the Dark Lord.’

‘Fine,’ Blaise sulked, ‘but it would be so cool to make him watch.’

‘Let’s go,’ Snape said. ‘Remember. Don’t kill him, Zabini.’

‘I know, I know,’ Blaise said. ‘Jeez, you’d think I was an idiot or something.’

‘We don’t just think it,’ the fourth voice said.

Three sets of footsteps retreated down the hall. Blaise must have watched them go, because it
took a while before the lock jiggled, and then opened. Blaise Zabini stood in the doorway, framed
by light, wearing dark wizard robes, but minus his Death Eater mask. He carried his wand in his
hand. A nasty smirk graced his sharp features.

‘Ah, if it isn’t Harry Potter,’ Blaise said, casting his eyes over Harry’s exposed body, ‘oh how
the mighty have fallen. How are you, old friend?’

‘A little nippy,’ Harry said, with feigned nonchalance.

Blaise laughed loudly. ‘Damn, I have missed you. It’s a shame you’re my enemy, you know. I
always liked you more than Draco.’

‘Sure you did,’ Harry said.

Blaise walked calmly into the room. ‘Old Bella wouldn’t let me snap your wand, you know.
Apparently, it isn’t my right.’

Harry tensed slightly. ‘So I heard,’ he said, again feigning indifference. So they had his wand.
Damn!

‘She’s pretty hot, isn’t she? For an old gal’.’

Harry smirked. ‘Not my type. I like ‘em sane.’

Blaise laughed again. ‘See, this is why I miss you. Your damn sense of humour, it always did
tickle my funny bone.’

‘How sweet,’ Harry replied. ‘But you’re not my type either. Sorry.’

Blaise smiled widely. ‘I meant to ask,’ he said, ‘how is Draco? Still with the blood traitor
tramp? Or has she dumped him yet?’

Harry didn’t say anything.

Blaise continued. ‘You know, he should really thank me. Without our bet, he never would have
fallen for the little bint. When you think about it, I’m responsible for their sweet little
relationship. Tell him I’m waiting for my thank you owl. Oh, wait, I forgot. You won’t be seeing
him again, will you? Never mind, I’ll tell him myself before I kill him.’

‘You think you can kill him?’ Harry said, with a mocking laugh. ‘You’re pathetic Blaise. You
couldn’t kill a fly.’

‘I won’t just kill him,’ Blaise said, getting in Harry’s face. ‘I’ll kill his little bitch as
well. And after that, I’ll kill your Mudblood whore, but that’ll be after I have my way with her.
If you know what I mean.’ Blaise finished with a sick leer.

Harry felt his magic bubble inside him, but he kept it down for now. ‘You really shouldn’t
provoke me,’ he said, quite calmly.

Blaise laughed. ‘Why? Tough guy, are you? Let’s see how tough you really are. I wonder, how many
times will I have to use the Cruciatus Curse on you before you beg for mercy?’

‘Let’s find out,’ Harry said, getting ready for the pain.

Blaise raised his wand. ‘You know you’re not fooling me,’ he said, jabbing the wand at Harry.
‘*Crucio!*’

Harry ground his teeth together to keep his cry of agony inside as his body jerked against his
magical bonds. Blaise kept it up for thirty seconds, and then released the curse. Harry let his
body sag as he panted for breath. Sweet ran down his nose to drip on the floor.

‘Ooh,’ Blaise said in a high falsetto, ‘that was sweet, but not quite what I had in mind. Did
you know, though, that the Cruciatus Curse could be used in so many inventive ways? I didn’t. Not
until I became a Death Eater. For example.’ Blaise pointed his wand between Harry’s eyes.
‘*Crucio men mentis!*’

Pain exploded inside Harry’s mind, but nowhere else. It felt like his brain was boiling. His
eyes rolled back into his head, seeing horrible visions flash before his mind, over and over and
over again, as the searing pain continued. Finally, Blaise released the curse, and Harry gasped for
air, the pain receding slowly. He turned his bloodshot eyes up at Blaise.

Blaise giggled wickedly. ‘Hurts, doesn’t it? Do that to someone enough, it’ll drive them
insane.’

Harry glared.

‘Didn’t like that?’ Blaise taunted. ‘Too bad, I don’t think you’ll like this any better, but
it’s *my* favourite. And look,’ he said, pointing his wand between Harry’s legs, ‘they’re all
nice and exposed for me. *Crucio virtus!*’

Harry screamed in agony. He couldn’t help it. Never before in his life had he ever experienced
anything like it. His genitals felt like they would explode if Blaise kept it up just one moment
longer. Focusing the Cruciatus Curse in one place seemed to multiply its strength to the point of
insanity.

Blaise laughed gleefully as he tortured Harry.

When the curse was lifted, Harry sagged once again, this time with a long string of drool
hanging from his mouth. He felt like vomiting, but only an extreme act of will kept him from
degrading himself so. Instead, he turned hateful eyes back up Blaise. He forced a smirk to his
features. ‘You done?’ he slurred.

Blaise smirked in return. ‘Play tough all you want,’ he said. ‘I could do this all day.’

‘And here… I thought you only… had half an hour,’ Harry said.

‘You wish,’ he said. ‘You know, I wonder how long it would take before I made you infertile?
Maybe I already have? But just to be sure, I think we’ll have another few rounds, don’t you?’

Harry tensed again, but the pain didn’t come.

‘Zabini,’ the voice of Severus Snape interrupted. ‘The Dark Lord will be arriving soon. Go and
get ready to greet him.’

‘But,’ Blaise protested.

‘Go!’ Snape snapped.

Blaise sulked out of the room, calling back over his shoulder, ‘It isn’t over yet Harry. I’ll be
back.’

Alone, Harry and Snape stared at each other.

‘I’d kill you right now Potter,’ Snape finally said, ‘if it wasn’t for that damn prophecy.’

‘You came here to tell me that?’

‘I came here to tell you that the Dark Lord will be here soon,’ Snape replied, ‘and when he gets
here, you will die. Nothing can save you. We know that Dumbledore has crippled himself. The Order
has no idea where we are, so a rescue attempt is not going to happen. And without your wand, you’re
completely powerless.’

‘Then why are you so scared of me?’ Harry asked, grinning at Snape.

Snape sneered. ‘I do not fear you Potter.’

‘You should,’ Harry said.

‘And why should I?’ Snape asked, still with that sneer in place.

‘Because I don’t need my wand to use magic,’ Harry said, grinning wider now.

Snape started to laugh mockingly, but when Harry laughed with him, it gradually subsided into a
nervous, apprehensive look. ‘Why are you laughing?’

‘Because I’m not joking,’ Harry said.

Snape took a step back, trying to look unafraid, and failing. ‘What are you doing?’

Harry grinned even wider, making him look quite mad. ‘I’m losing control,’ he said, quite
simply.

Snape took another step back.

Harry let go.

And released his siphon.



24. Chapter Twenty-Four
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** So sorry about the delay with this chapter. You would not believe the
weekend I have had. Anyway, here it is, in all its short glory. I’ll get back to longer chapters
with the next chapter. Again, sorry for any typos and shit I might have missed. Thanks for
reading!

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ron was playing wizards chess with Neville when Ginny entered the Gryffindor common room,
accompanied by a sombre looking Hermione Granger. The two girls settled themselves into the comfy
seats by the fire. Intrigued, Ron excused himself and made his way over to his sister. Neville
watched him go, debated following, and then slinked off to his dormitory.

One look at their faces and Ron knew something was wrong. ‘What’s wrong?’

Ginny shook her head minutely, gestured at Hermione and then got up and led him away from the
obviously devastated girl.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ron repeated.

‘Harry has been captured by You-Know-Who,’ Ginny said, matter of fact.

‘What?’ Ron very nearly shouted. He looked over at Hermione sympathetically, and then back at
Ginny. ‘Well, what are we doing about it? Have the Order, you know, any leads or something?’

‘Professor Dumbledore is looking into it,’ she said, ‘but they think he was taken by a spy
within the Ministry. It doesn’t look good.’

Ron sighed, glanced at Hermione again. ‘Is… is she okay?’

‘She’s upset, obviously,’ Ginny said. ‘They’ve had some… well… I suppose it’s private, but she
feels really guilty that… you know.’

‘Not really,’ Ron said, ‘but I get the gist. Should I say something to her? Try and help…
somehow…’

‘How? What would you say?’

‘I really don’t know,’ Ron said, wringing his hands. ‘I just feel like I need to do something. I
feel so useless.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Ginny agreed. ‘Could you sit with her? You don’t have to say anything, I
just don’t think she should be alone right now, and I really want to go talk to Draco. Please,
Ron?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Ron said, already making his way over. Ginny left the common room as Ron took her
empty seat. Hermione glanced up at him. He gave her a shaky smile. ‘Hi,’ he tried lamely.

Hermione went back to her internal musings, staring at her lap.

‘Ginny will be back,’ Ron said, ‘she just went to…’ He trailed off, really not knowing what he
was doing. He was never good at this stuff. ‘Sorry, I’ll be quiet. If you… you know… need anything,
let me know.’ Hermione said something, but it was so low he couldn’t make it out. ‘Sorry?’

‘He’s dead,’ she said, still quietly, but he heard her this time, ‘I know it. I feel it. He’s
dead, and we fought, and he thinks I…’

‘Hey,’ Ron said, interrupting, ‘that’s not true. I’ve seen how he looks at you. Anyone with eyes
can tell that he really loves you. He knows. And besides, he’s not dead. Not that guy. Trust me, I
know Harry Potter. It’s a bastard, but nothing can take that guy down. He’ll be back, smirking that
damn smirk of his, and all the world will be in awe – just like always.’

Hermione smiled, a little sadly. ‘You really think so?’

‘I do,’ Ron said.

‘You like him really, don’t you?’ Hermione asked, still in that quiet tone of voice.

‘What? No way, he’s a prick,’ Ron argued. Hermione gave him a look. ‘Ah, fine! Yeah, a little,
but don’t tell anyone, okay?’

‘I won’t,’ Hermione said. After a few seconds went by, she asked, ‘How come you pretend to hate
him?’

‘Because,’ Ron began, thinking it over. ‘Because I did. I hated him for betraying us and
becoming a Slytherin - for choosing Draco Malfoy over us. For being so damn great that everyone
else is overlooked. Even when everyone thinks he’s evil, he still gets all the attention, all the
admiration. All you girls fawn over him like he’s the greatest thing, but he’s not. He’s just like
everyone else. Worse, even.’

‘That he is,’ Hermione agreed. ‘But even so,’ and she smiled, ‘he’s Harry Potter, right? The
Boy-Who-Lived - our Hero.’

‘Yeah,’ Ron said, and smiled. ‘The bastard.’

Severus Snape took another step back, his greasy hair whipped about his face by some unseen
force. His eyes flashed with fear, his mouth agape. A large crack appeared in the wall behind Harry
Potter. Stone blocks rose from the floor.

‘What are you doing?’ Snape roared angrily.

Harry continued to grin. He turned his eyes up to his magical shackles.

The first thing Professor Oniki had taught him about his siphon was how to release it.
Essentially, before he could fully understand the mechanics of closing his siphon, he had to learn
how it was released, and why. In a manner of speaking, this gave him the ability to manipulate it.
It was limited, very limited, but if he could manage it, then he could free himself. At least, that
was his hope.

It was a long shot, and dangerous – very dangerous.

Probably too dangerous.

But he had to try.

He focused his eyes on his chains, focused his mind – focused.

*Come on*, he willed.

Snape pressed his wand against Harry’s throat. ‘Stop!’ the traitorous wizard hissed. Harry
turned his attention to the wand thrust into his jugular. ‘Stop it! Whatever you’re doing, stop it!
Stop it right n – argh!’ An electrical surge ran into Snape and numbed his hand, making him cry out
and drop his wand.

Harry saw an opening and took it. Using the wall, he pushed off with his bare feet and kicked
Snape in the head, sending the wizard flat on his back. His fallen wand was at Harry’s feet. He
used his toes to grab it.

He closed his eyes, willing it to work. ‘*Abeo Serpens!*’ Harry opened his eyes and looked
at his magical bonds again. It hadn’t worked. ‘*Abeo Serpens!*’ Right before his eyes, the
magical chains morphed, squirmed, and then slithered down his arms, releasing him with simultaneous
hisses.

Snape looked up at him from his place on the floor, eyes wide and scared. Harry looked at the
serpents adorning his arms. ‘*Kill him*,’ he hissed in Parsletongue. Snape scrambled to his
feet and ran as the serpents gave chase.

As stone blocks fell to the floor once again, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, then bent down
and picked up Snape’s wand. He conjured a plain black rode and threw it on quickly. He tried to
Apparate out, but as expected, anti-apparition wards blocked him. He could hear Snape calling for
help and knew he didn’t have long before the whole place was swarming with Death Eaters. He didn’t
trust his enemy’s wand to work all that well for him. He was lucky it had been able to transfigure
his chains.

That being said, he took off at a run, heading right, and away from Snape. He could hear voices
behind him, yelling, and feet thundering on cold stone. How quick they gave chase. Ahead, the
corridor came to an abrupt turn. He took it.

And found himself on the wrong end of two wands. Swift fired curses flew over his head as he
ducked down. ‘*Abeo feras aqua!*’ The air shimmered and took form, flowing down the hall as a
fierce and violent wave of cold water. One of the Death Eaters Apparated away, but the other wasn’t
so quick on the draw. He was overwhelmed by the wave of water and sent crashing into the far wall,
where the water evaporated back into air. Harry didn’t have time to wonder how the other Death
Eater had managed to Apparate to safety, as even more were hot on his trail.

He ran again, bare feet slapping stone. It was dark outside, so he couldn’t see much as he raced
down the corridor. Sparse torches bracketed to the walls illuminated his path periodically, but not
enough to offer him much comfort. Moonlight traced the outline of barred windows high up the wall.
Harry figured he was probably on the basement level of some manor. He debated lighting his wand
with *Lumos*, but decided against it. The spell would make him more a target than
anything.

From the darkness up ahead, Harry could hear even more Death Eaters. He was trapped. He slunk
close to the wall and listened. They weren’t moving. Guarding something? Probably. Harry crept
silently closer - close enough to make out vague shapes in the shadows. He pointed Snape’s
wand.

*Ignoro!* Harry silently cast his self-invented Imperceptible Charm and approached the
three Death Eaters.

‘Any sign of the Blood Traitor?’ he asked the nearest one.

‘Not yet,’ the first responded, looking Harry right in the eye and not recognising him.

‘Right then,’ Harry said. ‘The old hag wants you to patrol the corridors. I’ll stand watch
here.’

‘You sure?’ One of the others asked doubtfully.

‘Are you questioning me?’ Harry threatened angrily, getting up close to him.

The Death Eater blanched. ‘No, sir, of course not,’ he stammered quickly. He turned to his
associates. ‘Let’s go, come on. Hurry up!’

Harry watched with a smirk as the three Death Eaters left, all three of them under the
impression that they had just narrowly avoided offending a wizard of higher stature than
themselves. After they rounded the corner and disappeared, Harry turned his attention to the stairs
behind him.

He dashed up them and reached a solid oak door. He pushed it open and entered the house proper.
This part of the building was nicer, with carpeted floors and satisfactory lighting. He was in
another corridor and directly opposite was a set of closed double doors, emblazoned with a golden
insignia or crest. It was two snakes, coiled together to form the letter L.

‘Lestrange,’ Harry figured.

For some reason, he was compelled to enter the room. Something inside drew him, something
connected to him, and yet not. He opened the double doors, unknowingly activating an alarm and
deactivating his charm at the same time, and closed them behind him. The room was lit with a low
light, which caught on the many valuable looking objects on display. A large chandelier glittered
in the dark space above. One object in particular caught his attention. Harry approached it, a
satisfied smile appearing on his face. It shone as if it was waiting for him.

‘Hufflepuff’s Cup,’ Harry spoke to himself, ‘why I’ll be damned. Fancy seeing you here.’ He gave
a low chuckle, which threatened to turn into full on delighted laughter, but he just about held it
in. He would laugh later. First, he had to get away – and with the Cup.

‘In here!’ a harsh voice yelled.

Harry turned towards the doors as they burst open, sending wooden debris flying towards him.
Four Death Eaters, led by Bellatrix Lestrange, entered the room. Bellatrix saw the Cup in his hands
and her face paled.

‘He has the Cup! Get him!’ she yelled.

Four Killing Curses flew at him. He made a slashing motion with Snape’s wand and a huge wall of
stone appeared to block them. The stone blew apart as the first curse hit it, and the rest rendered
the rubble into dust, filling the room with thick smog. More curses came at him, but they went
wide, very wide. Harry attempted to creep his way out of the room, but one of the Death Eaters
suddenly appeared before him. The Death Eater called out in surprise and cast another Killing
Curse. Harry levitated one of the many objects into the way and then cast his own spell silently:
*Stupefy!*

The Death Eater crumpled to the floor. Harry knelt next to him and grabbed his wand, snapping it
and throwing it aside. He was about to get up and move on when the fog lifted, magically dismissed
by a hysterical looking Bellatrix Lestrange.

‘*Avada Kedavra!*’ she yelled insanely.

As the green light flew at him, Harry had a sudden idea. He flung Hufflepuff’s Cup up and into
the path of the curse. Bellatrix gave a shriek of horror. The green light engulfed the Cup and
then, with a blinding flash, exploded. The light almost blinded him, but it also glittered against
something on the unconscious wizards finger. Harry saw it was a ring, styled like the engraving on
the door.

At the same time, he heard Bellatrix give a shriek of agony as whatever protective measures
Voldemort had cast on Hufflepuff’s Cup attacked her. He cast his eyes up, saw shadowy forms running
through the fog, and then quickly grabbed the ring off the wizard’s finger and thrust it on his
own. As the light dissipated and two Death Eaters came at him, Harry Apparated away.



25. Chapter Twenty-Five
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** It’s been longer than I’d like. Sorry about that. Life is a bitch, what can
I say? Anyway, here it is, again, a little on the short side. Sorry! But I really do promise this
time; the next one will be longer! I guarantee it! If it isn’t, I’ll share Bellatrix’s ugly fate.
Haha! Anyway, hope you enjoy.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harry emerged from thin air outside the gates of Hogwarts. He collapsed to the ground in relief
and stared up at the cloudy night sky. His chest rose and fell steadily for over a minute as he
basked in the knowledge that he had once again escaped Voldemort’s clutches. Then he climbed
steadily to his feet and looked at the wand in his hand.

It wasn’t his wand - it was the wand of Severus Snape.

His wand he had been forced to leave behind.

He pushed that thought away and stowed Snape’s wand in the pocket of his cloak. Then he removed
the ring on his finger and studied it. This little bit of charmed jewellery had allowed him to slip
past the anti-apparition wards and flee to safety, for which he was eternally grateful, but now it
was useless. The protective wards around the Lestrange Manor would soon be torn down and replaced.
He dropped the ring styled with the Lestrange crest to the floor and ground it under his heel.

Then he grabbed Snape’s wand from his pocket and cast his Patronus to summon help.



Dumbledore sent Hagrid to open the gates of Hogwarts for Harry. Hagrid sniffed loudly into his
larger than life hanky, trying and failing to hide his tears. Harry smiled to himself and reached
up to pat the giants arm. Hagrid silently led Harry up to the castles entrance, at the moment too
relieved to speak and ask all the questions that burned in his mind. Harry preferred it that
way.

They said goodbye at the entrance to the Headmasters Office and then Harry made his way up the
spiral staircase to knock on Dumbledore’s door. The door opened before he could knock and
Dumbledore ushered him inside.

For the next hour or so, Harry explained everything that had happened to him since being
arrested by the Ministry. He left not a single detail out.

‘You’re sure the Horcrux was destroyed?’ Dumbledore finally asked.

‘Positive,’ Harry said.

Dumbledore let out a breath and relaxed back into his chair. ‘I have to say, you certainly made
the best of a bad situation.’

‘I lost my wand, though,’ Harry admitted.

‘Yes, that is a shame,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Although, truth be told, it would not have helped you
against Voldemort.’

‘There is that,’ Harry agreed. ‘Still, it was *my* wand, you know?’

‘I do,’ Dumbledore said, raising his arm to reveal his own wand strapped to his arm. ‘Most
wizards would do anything to hold onto their wands. Unfortunately, sometimes we have to be
realistic. Sometimes we must leave them behind.’ Dumbledore extended his arm, offering it to Harry.
‘Or let them go.’

‘What…?’

‘Take it,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Honestly, it is no longer much use to me.’

‘I have Snape’s…’ Harry said, letting the statement hang unfinished.

‘Which I am sure you loathe to use,’ Dumbledore finished for him. ‘Give it a try. I am sure my
wand will work much better for you than Severus Snapes.’

‘Are you sure?’

Dumbledore took a breath. ‘I am.’

Harry reached out and removed the wand from Dumbledore’s arm. He took hold of it tightly, felt
the powerful pull of magic rush up his arm. Yes, this wand was much more suited for him. He gave
Dumbledore a grateful smile, glanced into the wizards tired eyes, then looked to the ground. ‘Thank
you,’ he said sincerely.

‘You are very welcome,’ Dumbledore replied, smiling to himself. ‘Honestly, it seems fitting. I
am glad my wand will be the one to defeat Voldemort.’

‘You’re so sure I’ll win?’

‘I know you will win,’ Dumbledore said, ‘and so do you. There is no other option.’

Harry looked back up and met Dumbledore’s eyes. ‘I…’ Harry trailed away again, not sure how to
go about expressing himself.

‘I know,’ Dumbledore said, understanding. ‘And I am glad you feel that way. I have always tried
my best to take care of you, to shield you, even though I knew eventually…’

‘Let’s just leave it at that,’ Harry interrupted.

‘As you wish,’ Dumbledore acquiesced. ‘Before you go, I must ask, do you have any idea who might
have been behind your kidnapping? It seems obvious that the Ministry has been compromised.’

‘That surprises you?’

‘No,’ Dumbledore said, ‘but it does cause me great disquiet. We must find the root of it, so if
you have any idea…’

‘Scrimgeour dragged me to the Ministry the moment he knew you weren’t around to protect me,’
Harry said, ‘but that’s probably just because I pissed him off. Still, he might be behind it. He
arranged my guard and the room I was to be held in, and I was attacked from behind, so my kidnapper
was definitely in the room waiting for me.’

‘But again we find ourselves speculating,’ Dumbledore said with a weary sigh.

‘Honestly,’ Harry said, ‘it could be anyone within the Ministry. I’m sure Rufus didn’t keep my
arrest all that secret, out to shame me and all, so it wouldn’t be hard for whoever was behind it
to learn which room I was to be taken to. Unfortunate as that little fact might be. So, yeah, I’d
say we’re back to speculation once again.’

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, then said, ‘I’ll have the Order look into it. In the meantime,
I’m sure Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger will be glad to know you are safe. Take care Harry.’

‘Thank you sir,’ Harry said, placing Snape’s wand on the table before he left.

Dumbledore stared long and hard at the wand of the wizard who had betrayed him.



Harry headed straight for the Heads chambers.

The portrait of Willow the Veined glared down at him as he told her the password, but she moved
aside all the same. Harry stepped into the spacious, well decorated room, only to find himself on
the wrong end of Draco Malfoy’s wand.

‘Harry!’ Draco gasped out in shock, his usual drawl forgotten in his surprise.

‘Hey,’ Harry said coolly, giving Draco a smirk as he gestured to the still very much pointed
wand, ‘do you mind?’

Draco dropped his arm and took a few steps towards Harry. He thought about embracing his friend,
but only for a second. Instead, Harry offered his hand, and they shook.

‘Damn,’ Draco said, plastering a smirk on his features, ‘I should have known you wouldn’t let
those morons beat you.’

‘You thought I’d let them win that easy?’ Harry asked, mock offended. ‘I’m shocked, really, it’s
like you don’t know me at all.’

They shared a smirk and a laugh, before Draco released his hand and Harry took it back. Harry
looked towards the open door to Hermione’s bedchambers. ‘Go on,’ Draco said, ‘you can tell me all
about it later. Go comfort your girl. She’s been heartbroken since you vanished.’

Harry took that little morsel in, and then gave Draco a goodbye nod. The platinum haired
Slytherin watched Harry as he silently entered his girlfriend’s room. Then, fingering something in
the pocket of his robe, he left the Head’s common room, his destination unknown.

As Draco made his way through the silent and empty halls of Hogwarts, Harry eased into
Hermione’s private chambers. He closed the door softly behind him and crossed to her bed. She had
her back to him. Her hair was frazzled from tossing and turning, the blankets pulled up close to
her chin and wrapped around her snugly. He was close to her bed when he heard her tearful
sniff.

She was awake. And crying.

He didn’t let her suffer for even one more second. ‘Hermione,’ he said, getting her attention.
She turned sharply in the bed, blankets twisting around as she moved to stare up at him with wide,
teary eyes. Her adorable mouth hung open in surprise. He smiled comfortingly. ‘Hey.’

‘Harry?’ she squeaked.

‘Yeah,’ he said, sitting down on the bed, ‘it’s me. Don’t worry, I’m okay.’

‘Harry!’ she cried, flinging herself into his arms. He wrapped them tight around her as she
cried into his shoulder. ‘I was so scared! I thought… I thought…’

‘I know,’ he said soothingly, ‘but I’m fine. Really. I am.’

‘How?’ she sniffed.

‘It’s a long story,’ he said, smoothing out her frazzled hair, ‘and one I’d rather not go into
right now. I promise, I’ll tell you all about it later, but for now, I just want to know… are we…
okay?’

Hermione pulled back a little to look him in the eye. ‘Yes, of course we are,’ she whispered,
with only a little hiccup.

‘You sure?’

She just nodded, rubbing her nose close to his.

‘I’m sorry I…’

She silenced him with a brief kiss. ‘Let’s just forget it,’ she said. ‘I don’t even want to
think about it.’

‘Okay,’ Harry said, taking her word for it. He kissed her this time, easing her down onto the
bed and lying down beside her.

‘Harry?’ Hermione said, interrupting his kisses.

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you,’ she said, ‘so much. And I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t. I won’t ever
stop loving you. Even when you do something I don’t like, I can’t help but love you, and that’s why
it… but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I do, and I always will, and I want you to
promise never to forget it.’

‘I promise,’ Harry said softly. ‘I won’t ever forget. And you?’

‘Me too,’ she said, as he kissed away her tears. ‘I promise.’



Draco left Harry and Hermione to their no doubt emotional reunion and started to make his way
carelessly through the halls of Hogwarts. He had no destination in mind, so he just walked and let
his feet decide his course.

Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he had a way to contact Ginny, but she was shut
up inside Gryffindor tower, probably fast asleep by now. He continued to finger the object in his
pocket as he stopped walking and leant against the wall of corridor. He slowly eased his back down
the wall until he was sitting with his feet stretched out before him. Then he removed the piece of
parchment in his pocket.

It was an advertisement for the newest in magical accessories.

He casually began flicking through the pages, an idea blossoming.



He was dreaming, but this was no dream.

He was sitting, wrapped in dark cloth, enthroned before the pitiful weaklings who worshipped
him. They cowered under his piercing gaze - especially the woman. She knelt before him, her
disfigured face lowered to the ground in supplication as she begged and rambled for forgiveness. He
had no mercy for her.

He interrupted her. ‘Tell me, my sweet Bella, why you thought it wise to bring Harry Potter
here, under the same roof as my valued possession.’

‘You… I’m sorry, my Lord, but you commanded…’

‘Are you imply that this is *my* fault?’ The venom in his voice was there, but it was
hidden underneath his smooth, composed tone.

Bellatrix Lestrange flinched as if she had been whipped across the face. ‘No, my Lord, I…’

‘Be silent,’ he commanded calmly. ‘I told you to remove my possession from your vault - the very
prized possession I entrusted you with as a sign of faith – and hide it, not bring it here and
display it in your trophy room, for all the world to see and marvel at. Did you think to brag,
sweet Bella? Here, everyone, see how much my Lord values my service! Was that your intent?’

‘N-no, my Lord,’ Bellatrix stammered.

‘You do not comprehend what you have cost me,’ he said, indolently running one long finger along
his wand. Bellatrix couldn’t help but follow the movement with her one remaining eye.

‘I’m sorry, my Lord, please, forgive me!’

‘Do you think you deserve my forgiveness?’

‘I… I have been… punished, my Lord,’ Bellatrix said, very uncertain.

‘Oh, you have,’ he said, as if suddenly just noticing. ‘Yes, of course. Your pretty face is no
longer quite so pretty, is it? Those burns do not become you, nor does that puss filled hole that
used to cradle your right eye. And the hair, my, it has seen better days.’ There was a scattered
few chuckles, hastily muffled. He paid them no mind. ‘Yes,’ he went on, ‘you have been punished,
but I ask you… is it enough?’

Bellatrix was shaking with terror and shame. She kept her head lowered and replied, as he
wished, ‘no, my Lord. I fear… I have not.’

‘Come here,’ he said, ‘crawl to me, sweet Bella. You know I do not want to do this, but I must.’
He smiled mockingly down on her as she crawled to him like a dog, up the steps to his throne. She
knelt at his feet. ‘Prove your devotion to me, Bella. You know what to do.’

Bellatrix Lestrange closed her one eye and lowered her head to her Lord’s bared feet. She placed
several subservient kisses to his revealed feet, the smooth flesh of her left cheek colouring with
shame as she capitulated to her own humiliation. He did not laugh, but his smirk was markedly
shared with the rest of his faithful Death Eaters. Those same Death Eaters lacked his class. They
had no trouble laughing at Bellatrix’s misfortune, only adding to her disgrace.

‘Enough,’ he commanded. ‘Rise Bella.’

She got slowly to her feet, glancing quickly to her left, and meeting the compassionate eyes of
her sister Narcissa briefly.

‘Take your wand,’ he said, watching as she did as instructed. ‘Point it towards yourself. That’s
my good girl. Now, perform the Cruciatus Curse.’

Bellatrix tried to hide her shock and horror, but not very well. He saw it and it made his lips
quirk with amusement. She closed her eye, wet her lips with that soft and nimble tongue of hers,
and then, with a grimace on her now ugly and tortured face, she cast.



Harry woke to the sound of Voldemort’s laughter in his ears.

He only realised it was mixed with his own when Hermione clutched at his arm, asking what was
wrong.

He calmly himself as quickly as possible while sweat ran down into his eyes. He wiped it
away.

‘Harry?’ Hermione pressed urgently, worriedly.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, getting his breath back.

‘Was it? Did you see?’

‘He’s really angry with her,’ Harry said.

‘Who?’

‘Bellatrix Lestrange,’ Harry replied. ‘She’s being tortured. He has her imprisoned in her own
dungeons, at the whim of every other Death Eater.’

‘Why?’

‘Because she cost him another Horcrux,’ Harry said.

Hermione gaze him a puzzled glance.

‘I think it’s time I told you what happened to me.’



26. Chapter Twenty-Six
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Okay, I’m a liar. I had a whole other section to go with this chapter, but
the more I tried to write it in, the more forced it felt. In the end, I realised it just wasn’t
going to work, so I scrapped it. Thus we have another short chapter. I’m going to stop promising
longer chapters now. You get what you get and that’s that. Either way, I like how this chapter
ended up. I hope you guys do as well. Also, just to clear up something. No, it was NOT the Elder
Wand that Dumbledore gave to Harry. The Deathly Hollows do not exist in my version of the Harry
Potter world. And yes, I do introduce an author created character here. I hope you like her.
Thanks.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Christmas holidays saw Hogwarts all but abandoned. The usually busy halls echoed emptily,
the ghosts of Hogwarts silently gliding along and only adding to the air of barrenness that had
invaded the castle. Only a few students remained.

Neville Longbottom was one of them.

Oh, he had received many invites. His grandmother obviously wanted him to go home and see her,
but in his current state, he just could not be bothered. Even awakening her famous ire didn’t faze
him. He just didn’t feel like being Christmassy, and he didn’t want to bring anyone down. That was
one of the reasons he had turned down the invite from Harry and Hermione to join them at the
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The other reason was Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, but
you didn’t need me to tell you that, did you?

So instead he stayed behind, one of the few. It seemed fitting.

It was Christmas Eve and currently he sat alone at the Gryffindor table as its sole occupant. He
stared bleakly down into his soup, stirring apathetically with his head resting roughly on his
palm. He was brought out of reverie by the feel of someone invading his personal brooding space. He
turned his head slowly to face the person, who turned out to be a brightly smiling blonde haired
girl.

‘Hi,’ she said cheerily.

At Grimmauld Place things where surprisingly cheerful, given the circumstances which surrounded
the lives of the core members of the household. However, if anyone ever said that Sirius Black
didn’t know how to throw a party, you call them a liar. He was the epitome of cheerful, even in the
face of such dire times.

The black family dinning room had been refurbished with the help of Molly Weasley and it now
sparkled brilliantly. Festoons of tinsel hung from the rooms many chandeliers, magical balloons
floated through the air above them, a giant tree sparkled in the corner, and the large table was
piled high with Molly’s cooking expertise.

Sirius led the festivities from his seat at the head of the table. On his left, Harry sat next
to Hermione and across from them, Ginny sat with Draco - the golden couples of Hogwarts. Sirius
teased them all endlessly about it.

Next to Hermione was Remus Lupin who sat with Nymphadora Tonks, who kept grabbing the werewolf’s
hand under the table, no matter how many times he shied away. When he turned to give her a pointed
look, she simple stuck out her tongue. He couldn’t help but smile, whether he liked it or not.

Ron sat next to Ginny. The rest of the Weasley family followed, beginning with Molly, then the
twins, and even Percy, Bill and Charlie, right on the end. Ron glanced under the table, reading
something in his hand. It was a Christmas card form Luna Lovegood. He smiled to himself as he read
the little note inside:

*Have a great Christmas Ron. Lots of love, Luna.*

*PS. Watch out for the Nargles.*

It was night that no one wanted to end. As the feasting came to an end, the dancing began, and
the party really got started. Tonks dragged a protesting Remus onto the dance floor to a chorus of
Sirius’ laughter. Hermione buried her head into Harry’s shoulder as they gently swayed to the
music. Draco smirked at the uncomfortable Harry, but quickly blanched when Ginny dragged him up as
well. Ron was sandwiched between the twins, who had somehow gotten hold of the Christmas card from
Luna, and they held it over his head as George read aloud. Ron was red in the face, but he
accepting the ribbing with a little smile, used to it by now.

Neville found out that her name was Seraphina Labelle, but she insisted he call her Sera. She
was a muggleborn witch in the year below him and a member of the Hufflepuff house. Her family was
originally from France, but they had moved to Scotland when she was only little. She loved it at
Hogwarts, no matter what anyone said about it no longer being safe. All this he learnt as she
talked into his ear, smiling that bright dazzling smile the whole time, never once letting up, or
giving him a chance to do anything other than nod.

Her blonde hair was meticulously pilled on top of her head and arranged in a very odd way with
lots of twirling curls. She had even somehow managed to pin a red flower he did now know the name
of to the side of her head, just above her left ear. When he managed to ask her about it, she said
it was a rare flower that grew only in the French countryside where she grew up and that her
parents had named her after it – Seraphina, derived from the biblical word seraphim, which meant
“fiery ones”.

She talked to him for going on one hour and in that time he couldn’t help but come to admire
her. He studied her intently as she told him all about her childhood, watching her naturally red
lips open and close as she talked, the way her tongue peeked out to wet them every now and then.
The way she gesticulated with her hands and the way her eyes seemed to shine with some inner light
– she was a fiery one indeed. Her freckles trailed across her nose and dotted her cheeks lightly,
only serving to make her even more adorable than he already found her.

Indeed, since she had started talking to him, he hadn’t once thought of Ginny Weasley or that
manipulative ass Draco Malfoy. Seraphina had completed taken over his world in just a few short
minutes. They talked for over an hour as Neville began to open up and take a more active role in
the conversation.

As the night was coming to an end, Seraphina said, ‘Neville, can I ask you a question?’

‘Sure,’ Neville replied easily.

‘Why are you sitting here all alone on Christmas Eve?’

Neville opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could speak. It seemed to be a habit for
her; one that he also found adorable, even though he knew it would probably be annoying if anyone
else did it.

‘I was sitting there just watching you and I knew something must have been wrong and everyone
always says that I can’t just leave people to be when I know they are hurting and its in my nature
to want to help so I thought I would come over and try and cheer you up but I really want to know
what has upset you so much that you can’t even bring yourself to smile on Christmas Eve.’

Neville smiled as she finished her rambling with a pant for breath. She smiled herself and
asked, ‘what?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, shaking his head and laughing a little. ‘Really, it’s nothing. It really
doesn’t matter anymore.’

Seraphina studied him with a small smile, which widened a little before she said, ‘you sure
don’t seem to be unhappy anymore.’

‘I’m not,’ Neville said. ‘I’m really not.’

Seraphina reached under the table and gently placed her hand on top of his. ‘It’s late. Will you
walk me back to my room?’

‘Yeah,’ Neville croaked nervously, his hand tingling where she touched him. ‘Sure.’

‘Cool,’ Seraphina said, pulling him up and starting towards the door.

Mandy Brocklehurst watched them go from the Ravenclaw table, a weird little smile on her face as
she studied them.



They danced to a few songs by the Weird Sisters before Draco quietly took Ginny’s hand and led
her out of the party room. Ginny went to ask him what was going on when he put a finger to her lips
and gestured up the stairs. She followed him, intrigued. He led her down the hall to his room and
opened the door for her.

Once inside the room, Draco shut the door behind him and kissed her. She returned the kiss
hungrily and started backing up towards the bed. So that was what this was about. She should have
known. Smiling into the kiss, she reached down to his belt. He pulled away, looking a little dazed
by the kiss. ‘Wait,’ he said, stopping her hand on his buckle.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ginny asked, confused now.

‘Nothing,’ Draco said, taking hold of her waist gently, ‘but this isn’t what I brought you up
here for, believe it or not.’

‘Then why did you bring me up here?’ Ginny asked, leaning up to give him a kiss on his jaw. ‘To
your room.’ She kissed him again, moving along to the nape of his neck. ‘While everyone is down
there.’ She bit lightly. ‘All distracted.’

Draco groaned and pushed her away. ‘I’m being serious Ginny,’ he said. ‘I have something to give
you.’

‘What?’ Ginny was interested now. He wanted to give her a present today? ‘A present? It’s
Christmas Eve, dummy. You get presents on Christmas *Day*.’

‘I know,’ he growled, picking her up and dumping her on the bed. She gave a little shriek of
excitement. He pinned her down for only a moment before getting back up and crossing to his bedroom
cabinet. She leant up on her elbows and watched him as he rummaged around. When he turned to face
her, he was holding a rectangular shaped box.

‘Is that my Christmas present?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ he said, crossing the room to again stand before her.

‘Well, if you’re going to give it to me early, gimme-gimme,’ she said, holding her hands out and
beaming.

He gave her the box. She opened it with a snap and examined the contents. Inside was a silver
chain link necklace with pendant. The pendant was in the form of a roaring Gryffindor with a Snake
entwined around it. She traced a finger down the necklace and across the silver pendant.

‘It’s not just a stupid necklace,’ Draco said, kneeling in front of her and taking the box.
‘It’s been charmed, you see. If you ever need me, even if it’s just to talk, all you have to do is
take the pendant in your hand and say my name. I’ll know that way, and we can meet at a
pre-arranged place, or if you’re in trouble, I’ll know.’

‘How?’ Ginny asked as Draco took the necklace from the box and placed it around her neck.

‘Because I have its twin,’ he said, reaching into his shirt and pulling out a matching pendant,
although his was hanging from a black piece of thread. ‘It will start to glow and burn against my
chest when you activate yours. The same for yours so wear it against your skin. If you want to see
me, just activate it for a few seconds, but if you’re in trouble, keep hold of the pendant and it
will continue to burn. That way I’ll know.’

Ginny nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said, touching the pendant.

‘You like it?’ he asked.

‘I love it,’ she replied, leaning forward to kiss him. When they pulled away, she went on to
say, ‘it’s not fair that I get my present now and you have to wait for yours.’

‘So, go get it,’ he said, giving her a smirk, ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Okay,’ she said, pushing him back so she could get up. She crossed to the door and looked back
over her shoulder. ‘Sit on the bed and wait for me. I’ll be back in a second.’

Draco sat down on the bed and waited for more than a second. Ginny was gone for a whole five
minutes before she returned. She opened his door and slipped in. He frowned when he noticed that
she had changed clothes. She was wearing a long black robe that fell to her ankles and a pair of
black high-heeled shoes.

‘Ginny, what…?’ She stopped him with a finger on his lips, much like he had stopped her earlier.
She smiled at him sultrily and backed up a few steps, before removing the robe and letting it fall
to pool at her feet. Draco let out a low groan. Underneath she had on a lacy black basque with
matching g-string and stockings - and nothing else.

‘What do you think?’ Ginny asked, hand on her hip, the very embodiment of sexy.

‘That’s my present?’ Draco said. He was trying very hard to seem composed, despite the fact he
was blown away by his awesome girlfriend.

‘Part of it.’

‘Part of it?’

Ginny smiled cheekily and started to sway her hips a little as she approached him. She leant
forward and kissed him again, then asked, mere millimetres away from his lips, ‘are you ready for
your lap dance?’

Draco groaned with arousal once more.



27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
------------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Slight warning for this chapter. I won’t tell you what, but towards the end
we have an uncomfortable scene. Hope you enjoy.

**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The morning they arrived back at Hogwarts was also the morning that the most recent Hogwarts
attack was made public. Harry, Hermione, Draco, Ginny and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table eating
their lunch when Neville came up to them, holding the morning edition of the Dailey Prophet.

‘Have you seen this?’ he asked, thrusting the paper out at Harry. He avoided looking at Ginny
and Draco.

‘What?’ Harry asked, taking the paper. His face paled as he studied it.

‘What is it Harry?’ Hermione asked, worried.

‘I’ll kill him,’ Harry ground out, dropping the paper and getting up. ‘Come on Draco.’

Harry stormed off towards the Hufflepuff table and Draco shrugged and followed. Hermione picked
up the paper and read the title aloud: ‘I was attacked inside Hogwarts.’

Realisation dawned on Ron’s face. ‘Justin,’ he said.

‘Come on,’ Neville said, ‘I think Harry really might kill him. We better stop him.’

Ron got up to follow Neville. Ginny and Hermione shared one look, and then followed as well.

They hadn’t even got half way when they heard Harry yell, ‘Hey pansy,’ all the while bearing
down on the startled boy. The Great Hall went silent. Obviously, the Hufflepuff had been expecting
this. He quickly tried to get up, but Draco intercepted him, putting a hand on his shoulder and
making him sit back down.

‘Sit down idiot,’ Draco drawled, leaning over Justin and pinning him in place with a firm
hand.

‘Are you stupid?’ Harry asked, leaning over his other shoulder, face inches away from Justin. ‘I
mean, really, are you that dumb? What did Dumbledore tell you? What did I tell you? And what do you
do? You go and tell the whole damn story to the Prophet!’

‘P-people deserved to k-know,’ Justin stammered.

‘What do you know?’ Harry retorted. ‘You have no idea what it means to be fighting a war. To
you, it’s just some way to get your name in the paper, isn’t it? I have half a mind to blast your
face off.’

‘Harry,’ Hermione said, taking his arm, ‘come on. It’s done. You can’t change it.’

‘You just did Voldemort a huge favour boy,’ Harry said, leering. ‘Are you happy?’

Justin went red in the face. ‘You don’t know…’

‘I do,’ Harry said. ‘Rufus will be furious when he finds out, which I’m sure he already has.
He’ll close the school. Send everyone home. And let me tell you, if you don’t think you’re safe
here, you definitely aren’t safe at home. I hope Voldemort comes for you first. I really do.’

‘Come on Harry,’ Hermione repeated. Harry went with her as she pulled him away.

‘Nice going,’ Draco said snidely as he followed, ruffling Justin’s hair mockingly. Ginny took
Draco’s hand as they trailed behind Harry and Hermione back the Gryffindor table. Justin looked
pleadingly at Ron, seeking understanding from someone. He didn’t get it. With a shake of his head,
Ron left as well. Only Neville remained, but he ignored Justin as Seraphina came down the table to
talk to him and ask what all the commotion was about. He took her back to the Gryffindor table,
telling her all about it.




Dumbledore told Harry that Scrimgeour was talking with the board of governors, attempting to get
them to consent to leave the school open for the time being.

‘It wasn’t easy to get the Minister to agree to it, Harry,’ he said, ‘so don’t go rocking the
boat. I know you dislike the man, but try and put that aside for now.’

‘I will,’ Harry said, but grudgingly.

‘Sirius has a lead on Mundungus,’ Dumbledore also mentioned. ‘We think his brother might know
more than he is letting on. Remus and Alastor will be paying him a visit soon. We’ll find him and
the Horcrux Harry.’

‘We better,’ Harry said, ‘because if we don’t, defeating Voldemort will be a mite trickier than
it should be.’




‘My family always said that I was almost a Squib,’ Neville was saying, as he sat with Seraphina
in the unused classroom. ‘I believed it myself until I performed my first bit of accidental magic.’
He chuckled. ‘I was so scared, but everyone else was proud. I always thought of myself as weak
because I could never do anything right.’

‘You’re not a Squib,’ Seraphina said, ‘and you’re not weak either. I see a quiet strength in
you. Harry Potter must have seen it as well, why else would he have taken you under his wing?’

‘I suppose,’ Neville replied, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, embarrassed at
Seraphina’s flattery.

They sat across from each other at the end of the long bench like table, but Seraphina had taken
his hand across the table intimately and wouldn’t let it go. He was blushing more than he liked. It
made him feel stupid, that such a simple act would embarrass him so much. If Serphina noticed, she
didn’t care.

They had been talking for hours now, walking through the halls of Hogwarts. It was Neville and
Harry’s turn to patrol the corridors tonight. Harry was working the upper levels of Hogwarts.
Neville was left to patrol the bottom levels. Seraphina had insisted on accompanying him and had
also dragged him into this abandoned classroom against his will. He was supposed to be doing a job,
but he couldn’t say no to her.

‘Sera,’ he said, ‘I really should be doing my job.’

She smiled at him in her sweet way that drove him crazy. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but then I’d be
all alone. And we wouldn’t be here. *Alone*.’

Neville gulped at the implication. ‘I know,’ he said, fighting through the nerves. ‘I want to be
here, I r-really do.’

‘Then do,’ she said, as if it was that simple.

‘But,’ he began.

Seraphina interrupted him sharply, ‘Neville!’ He looked up into her eyes and her beautiful
smile. ‘Stop talking,’ she said, ‘and just kiss me.’

It felt like it took him a thousand years to lean across the divide and meet her half way, but
it was actually less than two seconds. The kiss was chaste and over in a second. Seraphina moved
back and beamed her smile again. ‘That’s all I wanted,’ she said. ‘Next time don’t make me wait so
long.’ She stood up and offered him her hand as he was still processing the kiss. ‘Walk me to my
dorm?’

‘Y-yeah,’ Neville stammered, taking her hand and allowing her to lead him out of the room.
Seraphina left first. She was also the first to notice the four cloaked figures waiting outside the
door. Her scream was cut off before it could start by a quickly fired stunning spell. She collapsed
back into Neville, who caught her instinctively. ‘Seraphina!’

‘Shut your mouth Squib!’ A harsh voice called, pointing a wand over the Hufflepuff girl’s prone
body, right in Neville’s face. ‘Back up. In the room. Now!’

Neville did as instructed, trying to conceal the fact that he was also reaching for his wand.
The four Death Eaters followed him into the room. The door shut and locked magically behind
them.

‘Drop the witch,’ one of the other Death Eaters ordered. Neville slowly lowered her to the
floor, his wand in his hand and concealed by her body. ‘Now get up. Up!’

Neville stood up quickly, whipped his wand up and fired the first spell that came to mind, which
just happened to be a stunning spell. The red light flashed and slammed into the Death Eater on the
right, sending him flying backwards into the wall. In that instant, several Cruciatus Curses
slammed into Neville’s body as he tried to dodge and failed. His body twisted uncomfortably and
fell to the floor.

‘Not a smart move Longbottom,’ the leader of the Death Eaters said, walking up to Neville and
kicking his wand away. He also aimed a harsh kick into Neville’s gut, driving the wind out of the
fallen wizard. ‘Wake him up Brocklehurst,’ he said, pointing to the far Death Eater. ‘And Crabbe,
bind this Blood Traitor to the chair.’

Neville groaned in pain as Crabbe lifted him easily and slammed him into the nearest chair. With
a flick of the Death Eaters wand, thick, heavy ropes coiled around him and the chair securely.

‘Hey, Nott, you promised,’ Brocklehurst said, grabbing hold of the leader of the Death Eaters
and whirling him around. ‘Don’t forget what you promised.’

‘I haven’t forgot you crazy bitch,’ Nott said angrily, jerking his arm back. ‘Keep your knickers
on. You’ll get your go. First though, let’s have some fun with the Squib.’ He turned back to face
Neville. ‘I hear that old hag Lestrange tortured your parents into insanity.’

Neville growled angrily and thrashed against his bounds as Nott and the others laughed at his
attempts.

‘I hear your father crapped is pants he was so terrified,’ Nott taunted. ‘And your mother, well,
she begged for her life. Even offered you up to Lestrange in exchange, but even then everyone knew
you for what you are - a pathetic excuse for a wizard. A squib if ever there was one.’

‘Liar!’ Neville snarled.

Nott laughed. ‘Whatever you need to tell yourself,’ he said. ‘Okay Brocklehurst, it’s your turn.
Make it good.’

Nott, Crabbe and Goyle withdrew a little. Mandy Brocklehurst, of the Ravenclaw house, stripped
off her Death Eater mask and tossed it to Nott, who caught it deftly. Then she knelt down beside
the unconscious Seraphina Labelle. She let her hand trail along the other girl’s body, hiking up
the French girls robes a little, revealing creamy thigh. Mandy licked her lips but moved on.

‘What are you doing?’ Neville raged.

‘Shut up,’ Mandy said, caressing the unconscious witch. ‘You’re ruining the moment.’ She laughed
a little and rolled Seraphina over, so that she was straddling her waist. ‘Hmm, she looks so sweet,
doesn’t she Longbottom?’ Neville growled as she continued her invasive actions. The female Death
Eater leaned forwards, bracing herself either side of Seraphina’s limp head, and licked slowly
along the witch’s cheek, from just under her ear all along to the side of her nose. ‘So sweet,’ she
cooed.

Neville felt tears come to his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing. He didn’t want to
watch this. He struggled futilely against his bindings. ‘Stop it!’

Mandy Brocklehurst looked up at him with pointed eyes. ‘Keep your mouth shut if you want this to
go smoothly,’ she threatened. ‘Now, let’s wake this bitch up. It’s no fun if she doesn’t know
what’s happening.’

‘No!’ Neville cried, struggling again. Mandy got up and slapped him across the cheek.

‘I said shut up!’

‘Don’t,’ Neville begged. ‘Please. Not her. Do anything you want to me, but not her.’

Mandy laughed mockingly. ‘You think I’m interested in you. Ugh. No thanks. Your girl on the
other hand…. Mmm, she is ripe.’ Mandy crossed to the unconscious girl and reached up under
Seraphina’s robes. She pulled and tugged, removing the girl’s underwear. She stood with a flourish,
brandishing the garment in her hand. ‘Ta-da! Oh yes, how nice. Look, she has little pink hearts on
her nice cotton panties.’ She showed them to Neville with an evil smile.

Neville felt his rage reach new heights. His body was tense and straining on it’s own as he
struggled against his bonds. He wasn’t going to let this happen. He couldn’t! Power pulsed inside
him. Power he had never felt before. ‘Let her go,’ he snarled. ‘If you don’t, I’ll stop you.’

Mandy and the rest of the Death Eaters laughed.

‘How Longbottom?’ Nott asked through his chuckles. ‘You’re tied to that chair and there isn’t
any way *you* can get free!’

Neville felt tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He needed to get free, but he didn’t
know how. He needed his wand. He needed Harry. He couldn’t do it on his own. He was useless. Almost
a squib.

*‘You’re not a Squib and you’re not weak either. I see a quiet strength in you. Harry Potter
must have seen it as well, why else would he have taken you under his wing?’*

Seraphina’s words flashed in his mind.

The power pulsed again, sparking like electricity. The ropes that bound him singed and crackled.
Mandy backed up in surprise.

‘What was that?’ she asked, turning startled eyes to Nott.

Nott shook his head in a negative. He had no idea.

Neville’s face had turned red from strain as he pulled and tugged at his restraints. Energy
began to crackle again, surging in spikes of power.

Nott backed up. ‘Just finish your business Brockehurst,’ he said, trying not to sound
afraid.

‘Maybe we should just kill them and get out of here,’ Crabbe suggested.

‘I’m not going to run from this Squib!’ Nott roared at Crabbe.

‘Just kill them!’ Goyle agreed.

‘No!’ Nott cried.

Brocklehurst looked down at Seraphina and then up at Neville, indecision all over her
features.

‘I’m doing it,’ Crabbe said, striding forward with his wand drawn, aiming it at Neville.

‘Yeah!’ Goyle agreed, brandishing his own against Seraphina.

‘Don’t!’ Brocklehurst and Nott shouted at the same time.

The two thugs cast their spells. Neville roared in fury. Magical energy spiked to it’s fullest,
engulfing the room in tangible electricity. The spells veered off course with the force of the
surge and flew up, slamming into the ceiling above the two Death Eaters. Stone and rubble came
crashing down to bury them. Dust filled the air. Neville tore free of his restraints with another
surge of power.

‘Run!’ Nott bellowed through the fog.

Neville heard the door open and slam again. He lurched to the door, waving his hands to try and
clear the air, stumbling around the pile of rubble that covered Goyle and slamming into the door.
He yanked it open and fell into clear air. He looked up and down the corridor, but there was no
sign of Nott or Brocklehurst. He collapsed to his knees and cried in a mixture of terror,
exhaustion, rage and frustration.

The Death Eaters had managed to escape again.



28. Twenty-Eight
----------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** I have nothing interesting to mention. Though I would like to know what you
guys think of Seraphina. It’s hard introducing an “original” character into a world that already
exists, especially when its fan base is generally of the disposition to hate them automatically. I
hope I managed to pull it off successfully. Thanks for the reviews.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Twenty-Eight
The office of the Hogwarts headmaster was more crowded than usual. Dumbledore sat in his seat,
listening as Neville told his story. Harry sat in his usual seat, feet propped up on the desk. It
was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that Dumbledore didn’t even care. Neville was
standing, telling the tale while trying to keep his cool. Seraphina sat in the back of the room,
arms crossed over her chest protectively, trying to be tough despite everything that had
happened.

Neville glanced back at her when he reached the part where Mandy Brocklehurst had attempted to
sexually assault the unconscious girl. He decided that Dumbledore didn’t need to know that part and
skipped over it as much as possible. He paused uncertainly when it came time to reveal how he had
escaped his bounds and fought off the Death Eaters.

‘I… I’m not sure what happened next,’ he said slowly, tentative. ‘Crabbe and Goyle went to
attack Seraphina and I. They cast killing curses, but the curses missed. The air in the room just
seemed to… I don’t know… explode. The ropes binding me vaporized and I could move. Nott and
Brocklehurst ran from the room. I chased them, but by the time I’d gotten out, they had
vanished.’

‘I felt the “explosion”,’ Harry said. ‘It was magical energy. The purest I’ve ever felt. And
very strong.’ Harry looked at Neville curiously as he said this. Dumbledore followed his gaze,
echoing the look. Then he nodded softly.

‘Very well,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Will you provide a statement to that effect Mister Longbottom?
And agree to provide evidence against Misters Crabbe and Goyle?’

‘I will,’ Neville agreed.

‘Good,’ Dumbledore said, looking past Neville to Seraphina. His features softened. ‘Would you
like to spend the night in the hospital wing Miss Labelle? I am sure Madam Pomfrey would not
object.’

Seraphina shook her head minutely.

‘I’ll take her back to her dorm, if that’s okay?’ Neville asked.

‘Very well,’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘Harry, will you accompany him?’

Harry nodded. ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘but I’ll be coming back after. We need to talk.’

‘Yes, we do,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes lingering on Neville as the boy helped Seraphina up and
towards the door. Harry followed them out, but not without sharing another meaningful look with
Dumbledore. They both knew where that power had come from. And they both wondered what it
meant.

Harry followed Seraphina and Neville at a distance, giving them some modicum of privacy. He was
far enough away not to hear what was being said, but close enough to reach them should anything
happen.

Neville had his arm around Seraphina as he led her back to the Hufflepuff dormitory. She felt so
soft and fragile in his arms, and nothing like her usual full of life, happy self. He hated it. He
hated the Death Eaters even more for causing it.

‘My underwear is gone,’ she said, so softly he hardly heard it.

Neville kept walking, but it was a struggle not to stop in surprise. However, he didn’t want
Harry to suspect anything, so he kept on walking. In his head, he tried to think what to say, but
nothing came to him. How do you tell someone they had almost been raped? Should he even tell her?
What good would it do?

‘Neville,’ Serpahina said, ‘why don’t I have my underwear anymore?’ She spoke so softly - like a
mouse afraid to draw the attention of the cat, but unable to resist asking the question. She
sniffed. ‘Neville, please tell me.’

He just didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

‘Neville, did they…?’ She couldn’t finish and choked back another sob.

‘No,’ Neville finally said, ‘they… she didn’t get the chance.’

‘She.’ It wasn’t a question. Seraphina sniffed again. ‘She took my underwear?’

‘I’m sorry Sera,’ Neville said, his self-loathing very evident. ‘I should have stopped them. I
should have caught them. Now, instead, you have to live in fear. Knowing that they… she… is out
there. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you to blame yourself for it. You didn’t make
them…’

‘But the only reason they targeted you is because of me,’ Neville argued.

‘You don’t know that,’ Seraphina said. ‘It wasn’t your fault. If you insist on feeling
responsible, I’ll slap you until you see sense.’

‘What?’

‘I’m serious,’ Seraphina said, stopping him with a hand and turning him to face her, ‘it’s not
your fault. If I have to beat it into you, I will.’

‘Okay,’ Neville said, for lack of anything better to say.

‘Say it,’ she insisted.

‘Erm.’

‘Say it Neville,’ she repeated, ‘I won’t be happy until you do.’

‘It’s not my fault,’ he said, sighing it out. ‘And it’s not yours either, Seraphina.’

‘I know,’ she said. She wiped at her eyes, though she didn’t appear to be crying, and then
sniffed loudly. Seeing his concerned look, she said, ‘I’ll be fine. They didn’t do anything, right?
Only…’

‘Only…’ Neville affirmed.

Nothing more needed to be said until they reached the Hufflepuff dormitory. Seraphina turned to
him again, leant up and gave him a hug. He hugged her back and whispered in her ear, ‘I won’t let
them hurt you again. Ever.’

‘I know,’ she said, pulling away. ‘My big strong hero will protect me.’

‘I will.’

Harry watched as they finished saying goodbye. After Seraphina had disappeared into the
Hufflepuff common room, he signalled for Neville to follow him. Neville jogged to catch up to him.
They walked in silence for a while.

‘You going to tell me what you didn’t tell Dumbledore?’ Harry asked eventually.

‘No,’ Neville said immediately. ‘It doesn’t have anything to do with you or Professor
Dumbledore.’

‘I’m not talking about your girlfriend,’ Harry said. ‘I mean how you managed to fight off Nott
and Brockehurst. Not to mentioned hospitalising Crabbe and Goyle.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Neville asked, baffled.

‘The power,’ Harry said. ‘It came from you. You must know that.’

‘No,’ Neville argued, ‘I don’t have that kind of strength. I didn’t even have my wand. I can’t
have possibly done it. It must have been something else. Some freak magical occurrence or
something.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Harry said. ‘Why are you so bent on denying it?’

‘Why are you so sure it was me?’ Neville countered.

Harry sighed. ‘I have my reasons,’ he said. ‘And I know it was you. I just need you to know it.
You’re no use to me unless you master it.’

‘It wasn’t me,’ Neville said. ‘I was angry, that’s all. I tried to get free but I couldn’t. I
felt something, but it wasn’t that. I don’t have that kind of power. I’m not you. I’m just Neville
Longbottom.’

‘You might have been,’ Harry said slowly, and let it hang like that for a while. The silence
that fell was taut with tension. Neville had stopped walking, so Harry turned to face him. Neville
looked at Harry with confusion all over his chubby face.

‘I might have been? What do you mean?’

‘I mean just that – you might have been,’ Harry repeated.

‘I don’t understand,’ Neville said.

‘There was a prophecy made Neville,’ Harry began the story, urging Neville to follow as he
started walking again. Neville hurried to keep up and listen as Harry went on. ‘The prophecy talked
about a child that would one day fight Voldemort. It said the two of them – the child and Voldemort
– could not exist together. That one would kill the other. Only two children fit most of the
description. Me. And you.’

‘Me?’ Neville interrupted, flabbergasted.

‘Yes - you. But the last part of the prophecy said that Voldemort would mark his equal, and he
marked me, not you,’ Harry finished.

‘That makes sense,’ Neville said. ‘You’re much more suited to the task. Me… heh… I’d be dead
already, no doubt.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ Harry said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean we both must have the power in us,’ Harry proposed, ‘or at least that’s what I always
thought. I don’t put much stock in prophecies, but I believe that both of us must have had the
power in us. If Voldemort had marked you instead of me, who knows where we would be? Maybe you
would be in my shoes right now and I’d be in yours. Either way, what happened tonight proved that
you have power.’

‘But I didn’t do anything!’ Neville said. ‘I didn’t even have my wand.’

‘So?’ Harry held up Dumbledore’s wand. ‘The wand only channels the magic. We don’t need them to
perform it. The magic you unleashed tonight was raw and un-channelled - a pure force. A force you
can tap into, if you learn how.’

‘But I’ve never been good at magic,’ Neville argued. ‘Everyone thought I was a squib. And even
when I found out I wasn’t, I could never seem to get the hang of it like everyone else. I’ve always
been weak.’

‘That’s part of your problem,’ Harry said, taking Neville by the shoulder. ‘You have no
self-confidence. You believe you will fail even before you try and thus doom yourself to failure.
Be confident. Believe in yourself. I do. I know you can be strong. Why do you think I let Hermione
introduce us? Why do you think I tried so hard to become your friend?’

‘I don’t know,’ Neville muttered.

‘Because I believe that you can be my most powerful ally,’ Harry said. ‘Together we can bring
down Voldemort. Don’t you want to get your hands on Lestrange?’

Neville tensed. ‘Revenge won’t bring my parents back to me,’ he said. ‘They’ll still be… wait,
how did you know? I never told you.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said. ‘I found out a few years ago. I was viewing a memory in Dumbledore’s
pensive. It was Lestrange’s trial. They mentioned your parents, and what she had done to them.’

‘Oh.’ Neville turned his head away so Harry wouldn’t see his angry tears. ‘Anyway, even if I did
get my hands on her… it wouldn’t help.’

‘It might make you feel better,’ Harry offered.

‘Is that what you think? That killing Voldemort will make you feel better?’

Harry narrowed his eyes. ‘He killed my parents, Neville. At least you can still *see*
yours. Mine – I never even knew. So don’t even think about lecturing me on vengeance.’

‘Sorry,’ Neville said. ‘I just meant… killing him won’t bring them back. And I don’t think it
will make you feel any better, either. Hatred only breeds more hatred.’

‘That might be true,’ Harry said, ‘but I’ve got Hermione. She keeps me grounded. No matter how
much I hate Voldemort, I will never become him. Even if I didn’t hate everything he stood for,
Hermione would keep me sane. Without her, maybe things might have turned out differently. At the
time, I didn’t care.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I do,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll leave it at that.’

They walked on in silence for a while.

‘I do hate her,’ Neville said. ‘Lestrange. And I hate Brocklehurst as well. And Nott for being
there and doing nothing. I hate them all for everything they have done.’

‘What did they do to her?’ Harry asked.

Neville opened his mouth to deny it, but Harry didn’t let him.

‘Don’t even bother trying to deny it,’ Harry said. ‘I’m not stupid. You hate Brocklehurst, you
said. And Nott for doing nothing. Did the Ravenclaw do something to your girl? It can’t have been
you. If it were you, you wouldn’t be half as mad. So the only option is Labelle. What did she do to
her?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Neville said. ‘No, it does matter, but telling you won’t change anything.
And you don’t need to know. Just know that what she *tried* to do was horrible and I will
never forgive her for it.’

‘Fair enough,’ Harry said. He already had a fair enough idea of what had happened. ‘So that
pushed you over the edge. And released your magic, right?’

Neville sighed. ‘I guess,’ he admitted. ‘But I have no idea how to control it.’

‘You can learn,’ Harry said. ‘Come to my private lessons with Professor Oniki. He can probably
enlighten us. You. Teach you how to control it.’

‘And what do I do when I can control it?’

‘Use it.’

‘I’m not interested in vengeance Harry. It’s an endless cycle.’

‘Okay,’ Harry said. ‘But that’s not the only reason people have for fighting. You want to
protect people right Neville? You want to protect your girlfriend? You want to protect Ginny? And
Hermione? And everyone, right?’

Neville didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The answer was all over his face – in his
very heart.

‘That’s why you fight, Neville.’ Harry laughed. ‘People need a hero. And I don’t fit the bill.
But you do. You’re the hero in this piece Neville. Not me.’

Neville shook his head. ‘That’s crazy,’ he said. ‘I’m no hero.’

‘Yes,’ Harry argued, ‘you are.’

When Harry returned to Dumbledore’s office, the headmaster was not alone. Rufus Scrimgeour stood
by the fireplace, talking with Dumbledore when he entered. They stopped talking and turned to look
at him. Harry tried very hard not to curse the wizard on the spot. He hadn’t forgotten how he had
been arrested and then kidnapped all because of the other wizard.

‘Potter,’ Scrimgeour said coldly.

‘*Minister*,’ Harry returned, using the title mockingly.

‘Gentleman,’ Dumbledore interrupted before anything further could be said, playing peacekeeper.
‘As I was saying, we have Misters Crabbe and Goyle in the hospital wing. Securely bound, of course.
Hagrid is guarding the door. Mister Nott - the ringleader in this - and Miss Brocklehurst have
vanished from Hogwarts. No doubt they have left to join Voldemort’s ranks. They won’t be back.
Mister Longbottom has agreed to testify against them. He will name them all as Death Eaters.’

‘True Death Eaters?’ Scrimgeour asked. ‘Or just kids playing dress up?’

‘I think they answered that when they murdered Hannah Abbot,’ Harry said, scathingly.

Rufus went red with rage and opened his mouth to retaliate, but Dumbledore cut across him.

‘They are without a doubt working under Voldemort’s orders,’ he said quickly. ‘We have been sure
of that for some time. The Dark Mark left in the wake of the first murder was proof enough. Only
Death Eaters are capable of casting that.’

‘And you are sure Nott and Brocklehurst have fled Hogwarts?’

‘I am,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I know this castle better than anyone. They are no longer in it. Be
assured of that.’

‘Do you have any proof?’ The Minister asked.

‘My word is all I can give,’ Dumbledore admitted.

Scrimgeour sighed. ‘I do not think I can stop the board of governors from closing Hogwarts. Not
with just your word that the Death Eaters have fled. They have eluded you so far, how can you be
sure they are no longer within these walls? And You-Know-Who managed to breach your walls last year
as well. What’s to stop him doing it again?’

‘Me,’ Dumbledore said. ‘I was incapacitated last year. Voldemort would not have been able to
break into Hogwarts otherwise.’

‘And you are not incapacitated now?’ Rufus gestured to Dumbledore’s missing hands. ‘You cannot
even wield a wand. I do not see how you can protect these children.’

‘I’ll protect them,’ Harry said loudly, stepping up to defend Dumbledore.

‘You?’ Scrimgeour laughed. ‘You’re just a child yourself.’

‘I’ve survived Voldemort several times,’ Harry boasted. ‘I’ve done far more than you can even
imagine, working towards defeating Voldemort. And what have you done? You accused me of being a
dark wizard. You’ve arresting innocents to cover your own incompetence. Rest assured, he will fall
by my wand.’

‘Your arrogance never fails to amaze me Potter,’ the Minister said. ‘You think you can protect
these children? With what? You don’t know the first thing about real combat. I’m a veteran of many
duals. What about you?’

‘I already told you,’ Harry said, ‘I’ve survived Voldemort. Can you say the same?’

‘Luck!’ Rufus proclaimed hotly.

‘Enough!’ Dumbledore roared over Harry’s response. ‘Harry is right, Rufus. If you do not trust
me to defend Hogwarts, then you must trust Harry. I have been training him myself. He might be
mostly untried in battle, but he has power you can’t imagine.’

‘Tosh!’ Rufus declared. ‘I will not rely on a child to defend the future of the wizarding world.
No. I fear Hogwarts must be closed.’

‘Do not be a fool!’ Dumbledore said, rising to his feet commandingly. ‘These students will be
safer by far if they remain here in Hogwarts. You know it.’

‘Once, perhaps,’ Rufus said, ‘but no more.’

‘You’re making a terrible mistake,’ Dumbledore spoke gravely.

‘I’m sorry Dumbledore. Hogwarts must be closed.’



29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Okay, it gets a bit smutty at the end of this chapter, be warned. ;-) Also,
sorry about the delay with this one. I’ve been busy sorting out the details for how the rest of the
story is going to pan out. I had all the major factors down on paper, but not the little things,
and I really need those or I find it really hard to get started. Hope you guys enjoy.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Twenty-Nine
The following day was a bleak one for Hogwarts. An assembly was called after breakfast and
Dumbledore stood before the students of Hogwarts and announced its closing. The reaction was
varied. Some called out in outrage. Others turned to their neighbours and began gossiping. A
scattering of applause came from the Slytherin table.

‘While the school may be closing,’ Dumbledore went on, speaking loudly to drown out the hubbub,
‘I will remain here. All those who wish to remain with me are welcome, as long as you have
permission from your parents. If that is so, I suggest you owl them once we are done.

‘It is my belief that there is no safer place right now than Hogwarts. The Minister for Magic is
closing the school against my wishes. I do not wish to frighten you, but you deserve the truth. If
you return home to your parents, you will be putting yourselves in great danger. I cannot protect
you.’

‘Like you could if we stayed,’ someone shouted from the Slytherin table.

The hubbub rose again, voices shouting at each other across the Great Hall.

‘Then go home!’ Another voice roared over the din. Everyone turned to see Neville Longbottom
climb onto the Gryffindor table. Seraphina, who was sitting next to him, let go of his hand as he
stood up to full height. ‘If you think you’re safer at home, then go, but I’m staying. I don’t care
what anyone says. Hogwarts is the safest place to be. It always has been and it always will be. We
have the greatest wizard alive right here with us, and he won’t let Voldemort or any of his Death
Eaters hurt anyone. Right Harry?’

A hushed silence fell as everyone turned to look at Harry, who was giving Neville his patented
death glare, silently telling him to shut up.

‘Potter? Who are you trying to fool?’ The very same voice that had disparaged Dumbledore shouted
out these words.

‘I’m very serious,’ Neville said loudly. ‘Harry has survived Voldemort several times already.
It’s more than anyone else can say. He’s destined to defeat him.’

‘Hey Longbottom,’ Draco said, ‘why don’t you shut your trap?’

Neville glanced at Draco, who gave him a pointed look.

‘It’s true,’ Ron Weasley called out, standing up and joining Neville. ‘Potter saved Justin from
the Death Eaters inside Hogwarts. And he battled You-Know-Who last year and survived. We all saw
it. He saved the entire Gryffindor common room as well that very same night.’

A low murmur spread around the Great Hall.

‘I cannot force any of you to listen to me or your fellow students,’ Dumbledore said, speaking
up once again. ‘All I can do is make the offer. The rest is up to you. You’re all dismissed. Make
whatever arrangements you need to make. There will be no more classes in Hogwarts.’

‘Way to go Longbottom,’ Draco said snidely, as the Great Hall erupted in noise once again, and
the students began to depart. ‘Why didn’t you just tell them all about the prophecy?’

‘So what if I did?’ Neville argued, sitting back down beside Seraphina. ‘It would make them all
feel better, knowing that hope existed.’

‘I doubt they would be as happy about it as you think,’ Harry finally spoke up. ‘Let’s face it;
most of them want to believe the worst about me. Learning that I’m the only one who can defeat
Voldemort would just make them even more scared. I’m the last person they want as their hero.’

‘Some might see it that way,’ Ron agreed, ‘but others would be relieved, I think.’

‘Not enough,’ Harry said.

‘I suppose,’ Ron conceded.

‘So what happens now?’ Ginny asked, with a look over her shoulder at the departing students.

‘The fight begins,’ Harry said, ominously. ‘I’ll be clear. I’m not going to sit around and wait
for Voldemort to come face me. I’m done with that. From now on, I’m going after him, his Horcruxes
first and foremost.’

‘We’re all with you, right guys?’ Neville asked, appealing to the gang.

‘I am,’ Ron said.

‘Me too.’ Ginny put her name in.

‘I’ll help if I my parents let me stay,’ Seraphina said.

Harry kissed Hermione’s hand gently. ‘I know you’re worried, but I’ll be fine.’

‘I need you to know, I’m not going to sit around and wait for you,’ Hermione replied. ‘I’m
fighting too.’

Harry sighed, ‘I know.’ He turned his attention to Draco.

Draco smiled his sardonic smile. ‘Do you even need to ask?’

Harry stood up and clapped Draco on the shoulder, then turned to face the rest. ‘It’s not going
to be easy,’ he said, ‘but we can do it. Voldemort will underestimate you all, because of who you
are, or how old you are. It doesn’t matter why; just know that you can use it. I’ll teach you all,
everything I know, so that when it comes time to fight, you’ll all be ready for it.’

‘What about Crabbe and Goyle?’ Neville asked, squeezing Seraphina’s hand under the table. ‘Are
they still in Hogwarts?’

‘No,’ Harry said, looking at Seraphina when he answered. ‘Dumbledore has moved them to a secure
prison somewhere in Europe, one guarded by wizards and witches he trusts, and not those damn
Dementors. You don’t need to fear them, they’re as good as dead.’

‘What about Nott and… Brocklehurst?’ Seraphina asked softly, pausing before saying the witch’s
name.

‘I won’t let either of them hurt you,’ Neville said before Harry could respond.

‘I know.’ Seraphina leant in close and touched foreheads with him. ‘I know you won’t, my white
knight.’

Draco didn’t try very hard to stifle his snigger.

Neville shot him a dark look, but Seraphina ignored him, and using a finger turned Neville’s
face back to her own to give him a soft kiss.

‘I’ve got to have a word with Professor Oniki,’ Harry said, leaning down to kiss Hermione on the
cheek. ‘I’ll come by your dorm afterwards, okay?’

Hermione nodded.

‘Coming Neville?’ Harry called, starting to walk away.

‘Yeah,’ Neville said, waving to the gang as he followed after Harry.

‘What’s that all about?’ Draco asked, but no one answered.




‘Are you leaving?’

Professor Oniki didn’t look up when Harry spoke, but said, ‘No, I am not. Hogwarts has need of
me for now, so I will stay.’

‘Good,’ Harry said, entering the office of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Neville
followed him. ‘How much has Dumbledore told you about me?’

‘Enough to know that you are important,’ Oniki replied. ‘But it’s not you that brought you to
me, is it Harry-sama?’

‘How’d you know?’ Harry asked, ever curious around the strangely intuitive wizard.

‘Logic,’ Oniki said simply. ‘Mister Longbottom here has power. It thrums inside him, battering
against his walls, eager for release. A power not unlike your own.’

‘Can you help?’

‘Does the young man want my help?’ Oniki finally opened his eyes, gazing up into Neville’s
calmly.

Neville swallowed. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I need to protect my friends. Everyone. I need to learn how
to use this…’ he swallowed again, ‘power.’

‘Then you shall learn,’ Oniki replied. ‘It will be just as hard to unlock your power as it is
for Harry to close his own. Are you prepared for that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then join Harry for our next lesson,’ Oniki said. ‘And,’ he held up his wand hand and pointed
it at the bookshelf behind him. One of the books came flying into his other hand. He presented it
to Neville. ‘Be sure to read this. It may help prepare you.’

Neville read the cover. ‘Magic for Squibs?’ he asked with a frown. ‘I’m not a squib…’

‘No, you are not,’ Oniki replied, ‘but your condition is similar to that of a squib. Your siphon
should be a large one, but for whatever reason it isn’t. Your magic is unfocused and inconsistence
because it is constantly struggling to break out through your small siphon, thus causing your magic
to seem weak. It pulses against your walls, while only a small amount leaks from your siphon.’

‘Like a closed tap that’s still dripping water,’ Harry offered.

‘Precisely,’ Oniki confirmed. ‘You need to learn how to open it and unleash your full strength,
but still remain in control. That book teaches squibs how to tap into their closed siphons and open
them a little. Most find it impossible, but some can manage it with effort. They will never be any
better than a first year students at Hogwarts, but even a little magic means a lot to them. This is
because their siphons, their bodies, fight it. They are not meant to be wizards. You are. And that
book will help you begin to open your siphon.’

Neville nodded, clutching the book in his hands as if it was a lifeline. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But
how come my siphon is so small, if I have so much power? Shouldn’t it be like Harry’s?’

‘It should,’ Oniki replied. ‘But for whatever reason, it is not. And only you can answer that
question, though in truth, any answer you find will be just speculation. You will never know for
sure. It could be a myriad of reasons.’

Neville nodded again, understanding.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ Harry said. ‘All that matters is unlocking your power, right
Neville?’

Neville looked up at Harry, glanced at the book, then back to Harry.

‘Right,’ he said.




As promised, after meeting with Professor Oniki, Harry went straight to Hermione’s dorm. Draco
and Ginny sat cuddled together in front of the roaring fireplace, but they paid him no mind as he
went straight to her room and shut the door behind him.

Hermione was sitting at her writing desk, pouring over some book. He walked on silent feet over
to her and stopped to peer over her shoulder. She was so engrossed in the book that she hadn’t
noticed him entering.

‘You know,’ he said, and smiled when she practically jumped out of her seat, ‘you really don’t
need to do any studying anymore. Class is dismissed. Remember?’

‘Harry,’ Hermione gasped out, hand over her heart, ‘you scared me, you jerk.’

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him to soothe her with a long, deep kiss.
When they finally broke apart, she smiled, but said, ‘that doesn’t make you any less of a
jerk.’

‘I know,’ he said, ‘I feel real bad about it.’

‘Liar,’ she said, pushing him away with a smile.

‘What are you reading anyway?’ Harry asked, moving over to glance once again at the book on her
desk.

‘It’s a history of the Dark Arts,’ Hermione answered. ‘It doesn’t teach any spells or anything.
It’s more about the magic and its nature and the people who are more susceptible to it. It’s pretty
interesting.’

‘Hmm,’ Harry hummed thoughtfully. ‘People who are more susceptible to it?’

‘Wizards like Voldemort,’ Hermione said. ‘The book says that some magic is tainted and that it
can affect wizards that come into contact with it. Wizards born out of deceit, for example. Or
incest. Inbreeding. Things like that attract dark magic. Of course, not everyone is affected by it.
Some have the power, or the will, to resist it if they try.’

‘Like Draco?’

‘I suppose,’ Hermione said. ‘It’s all supposition though. It can’t be proved, but it’s an
interesting theory.’

‘I’m not sure I believe it,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t think it’s the magic that is tainted. It’s
people that taint the magic. Voldemort was a lonely, cruel and angry child. He was born into a
terrible situation and it shaped him into the wizard he would become.’

‘But you where in the same situation he was,’ Hermione argued. ‘Orphaned. I know you had your
aunt and uncle, but I get the impression you don’t really get along with them. You must have been
lonely as a child.’

‘You have no idea,’ Harry said, going over to sit on the bed, his back to Hermione. ‘Have you
ever wondered why I don’t talk about my time with those Muggles?’

‘Well,’ Hermione came over to kneel on the bed behind him, ‘I know you don’t like being there,
but you never told me why… I do wonder sometimes, but I know you. You’d tell me if you wanted me to
know.’

‘I’m ashamed,’ Harry finally admitted, after a short silence.

‘Ashamed? What of?’ Hermione didn’t try to keep the curiosity and puzzlement out of her
voice.

‘Ashamed of the child I was,’ Harry admitted. ‘I was bullied. Bullied by my cousin Dudley and
his friends. My aunt and uncle hate me and didn’t treat me well. But what I despise most of all
isn’t them. It’s how I let them get away with it. I wanted to fight back so much, but I was afraid.
I didn’t have the power. I was weak, a scrawny little thing, matched up against two grown adults
and a fat kid that could squash me with ease. I should have fought back anyway, even if it meant
getting my ass handed to me. It would at least prove that I wasn’t afraid, that I wasn’t a coward,
that I had pride. But I didn’t, and I was. A coward.’

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders. ‘No Harry,’ she said, ‘you’re wrong. It wasn’t
cowardice. It was brains. Why would you fight back when you knew you would lose? What would be the
point?’

‘Pride,’ Harry said.

‘You and your pride,’ Hermione said, but not unkindly. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter what happened
back then. We all do stuff we regret. We all freeze up at times and don’t know what to do. I’ve
done it so many times, if I beat myself up over them all, I’d never get anything done. All you have
to do is accept it and move on.’

‘I know,’ Harry said. ‘And I have, for the most part. I’m not that same scared kid anymore. I’m
not weak. And I have my pride.’ He gave a wry chuckle. ‘Maybe too much, actually, but it’s better
than nothing. Point is, my life shaped me, but in a different way than Voldemort. He was lonely
like me, yes, but he had a certain strength. He had power from an early age and he knew it and he
used it. I didn’t. Who knows, if he hadn’t killed my parents and I didn’t have my hatred of
everything Dark, I might just have become the next Voldemort, like everyone believes.’

‘I’ll never believe that,’ Hermione said, rubbing his shoulders, ‘you just don’t have that
cruelty in you.’

Harry reached up to still her hands, then turned around and got up on his knees on the bed in
front of Hermione, still holding her hands. He pushed her back flat on the bed gently, pinning her
hands, and pressed his forehead up against hers.

‘Don’t stop believing in me then,’ he whispered. ‘Sometimes I feel like it’s all that keeps me
sane.’

‘You’re not as dangerous as you make yourself out to be Potter,’ Hermione teased.

‘Let’s not find out,’ Harry said, and kissed her hungrily.

Their kissing soon grew hot and heavy. Harry reached up under her skirt and pulled at the
waistband of her knickers. Hermione moaned into his mouth and squirmed underneath him, pulling her
lips free.

‘Harry,’ she hissed, ‘no, Draco and Ginny are in the next room!’

‘So?’ Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

‘They’ll hear!’ Hermione growled indignantly.

‘You think they don’t know what we get up to in the bedroom?’ Harry probed, with both words and
hands, pushing his thumb against her clit through her knickers.

Hermione moaned and closed her eyes. ‘Please,’ she whispered, as he kept rubbing her though the
cotton of her panties. ‘Harry, it’s one… oh… thing to… oh… have them kn-oooh… but… hearing….’

‘We’ll be quiet,’ Harry said, moved his hand to tug at her knickers again, finally getting them
down.

Hermione went to protest, but he silenced her with a passionate kiss. With his hands, he
continued to tug at her knickers, until she finally used her own hands to help him pull them down
and off. They shuffled back up on the bed and Harry lifted her skirt with one hand, whilst popping
the button of his jeans with the other. Hermione raised her hands to his fly and unzipped, then
pulled down his jeans along with his boxers. He positioned himself over her and slowly entered,
looking her in the eye in the entire time. Hermione stifled a moan with her hand when he plunged
all the way inside.

‘Harry,’ she whispered, as he worked himself slowly out and then in again.

He leant down for another kiss as he picked up the pace, going fast enough to give them both
enough pleasure, but slow enough that they didn’t make too much noise. It didn’t take them long to
reach the brink. Maybe it was the knowledge that Draco and Ginny could walk in at any minute that
made it all the more excitement, but whatever it was, they soon found themselves burying their
faces into each other’s necks and biting down as they both exploded in gratification.

‘Wow,’ Hermione panted as she came down from her sexual high.

‘Pretty much,’ Harry agreed, panting also. Hermione giggled. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh, nothing really, just…’ Hermione gave him a quick kiss and looked into his eyes. ‘If Draco
and Ginny had caught us, I think I would have killed you. That was too risky. I can’t believe I
just did that. You’re a bad influence on me Harry Potter.’

Harry grinned. ‘What can I say? I’m dangerous.’



30. Chapter Thirty
------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** First of all, I’m not sure if Hogwarts *was* around before the
Ministry of Magic, but for my story it was, so… :p. Oh yes, I forget to mention this during my last
authors note, but someone asked about why Dumbledore doesn’t get metal hands like what Wormtail
did. Quite simply, it would ruin the sacrifice he made if I did that. I considered it, but in the
end I decided that it would be a vain act. Dumbledore doesn’t really *need* his hands. You’ll
see why later on. Though it probably would make his day to day like a little easier… but ah well,
in the end I decided not to go that way. If it bothers you, then, well, deal with it. Enjoy the
chapter.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Thirty
Thanks to Rufus Scrimgeour and the board of governors, Hogwarts was now home to the Order of the
Phoenix and those sympathetic to Dumbledore and his cause. A few students had remained at Hogwarts
when the school closed, and most of those had been joined by family and friends. Hogwarts was
officially a safe haven from Voldemort.

Rufus Scrimgeour had strongly opposed, but ultimately there was nothing he could do. He didn’t
have the power to evict Hogwarts. The school had stood long before the Ministry had been formed and
would remain even after it fell. And as it’s head, Dumbledore was the only one to control who was
welcome inside the castles walls. Technically, Scrimgeour could have opposed Dumbledore, but he
didn’t. In the end, he had bigger things to be dealing with.

As did Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.

Classrooms had now been converted into living spaces for the families who had sought out the
safety that Hogwarts provided. The former school was now overrun with more wizards and witches than
it had ever seen. Not everyone was willing to help combat Voldemort, but even those Dumbledore
would not turn away.

Most of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students had remained, with about half of the Ravenclaw
class joining them. Of Slytherin, only a token few remained, among them Pansy Parkinson and Heather
Pritchard. The two Slytherin’s didn’t seem to enjoy being at the bottom of the social rung, but
they also seemed too afraid to leave Hogwarts as well.

Despite the bleakness of the impending war, Hogwarts was full of life as family and friends
reunited and comforted each other. It was a strange thing to see, but it helped keep the darkness
at bay, so Neville wasn’t going to argue with it.

He had spent the morning with Seraphina and his formidable grandmother. Introducing the two was
more nerve wracking than he had expected, and he hadn’t been expecting a smooth ride by any stretch
of the word. However, they had hit it off right away. His gran seemed to see into Seraphina’s
immense heart as soon as they exchanged greetings. It was certainly a relief to have two of the
three most important women in his life getting along so well.

At dinner they found themselves sitting next to the Weasley family, and as fate would have it,
he ended up next to Ginny. They exchanged somewhat awkward smiles as everyone around them tucked
into the feast the house elves had prepared.

‘Hi,’ Ginny said, softly.

‘Hi Ginny,’ he replied, equally as soft.

‘How’ve you been?’ she asked, after a short while staring at her half full plate.

‘Pretty good, actually,’ Neville admitted.

‘Oh,’ Ginny said, ‘that’s good.’ Another pause. ‘I’m glad that… you’re good.’

Neville chewed on a sausage, postponing his response a little. ‘It’s hard, isn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This,’ he replied, gesturing to the space between them, ‘us.’

Ginny evidently didn’t know what to say to that as she speared her own sausage.

‘I know we were never…’ Neville trailed off, trying to find the right word. Eventually he
settled on, ‘like that. But you know how I feel. And I know… you like me. As a friend, of course. I
was kinda pathetic – following you around like a lap dog. I’m sorry about that. But things are
different now. I still… like you, but I know it will never happen. And I have Seraphina and she’s
amazing. There’s no reason we can’t be friends, right?’

‘Do you love her?’ Ginny asked, after swallowing.

‘I don’t know,’ Neville said. ‘Maybe. Do you love *him*?’ It still smarted to think that
Ginny had picked Draco Malfoy over him, but he could at least talk about it a little now. Accept
it.

‘With all my heart,’ Ginny replied without a pause.

‘I’m not being… you know… jealous or whatever, I’m just curious,’ Neville stammered out in his
own awkward way.

‘What?’ Ginny prompted.

‘Why?’

Ginny allowed herself a reckless grin. ‘You love who you love,’ she replied. ‘I’ve come to
realise logic really has no place in it.’

‘I suppose that’s true,’ Neville conceded. ‘Though you’ll never convince me he deserves you.
You’re too good for him. He doesn’t deserve you.’

‘Neville,’ Ginny warned.

‘Sorry,’ Neville said.

‘Thank you,’ Ginny said honestly.

‘Doesn’t make it any less true, though,’ Neville whispered, half jokingly.

Ginny didn’t think it was funny. She shot him a glare. ‘You going to pick a fight with him
again?’ she challenged.

Neville frowned. ‘Me pick a fight?’

‘Yeah,’ Ginny said, narrowing her eyes. ‘Did you forget? Hogsmeade. A bloody Draco. You on top
of him. Pummelling him to a pulp. Any of this ring a bell?’

‘Well, of course,’ Neville said. ‘I’m really ashamed of how I reacted then, and I’d apologise if
I think it would help, but Ginny – I didn’t start the fight. He attacked me.’

‘What?’ Ginny’s eyes widened, her frown dissolving into a hard thin line. ‘Don’t joke about
this, Neville.’

‘I’m not joking,’ Neville said, beginning to think he had said too much. ‘Look, I probably
shouldn’t have even mentioned it.’

‘No,’ Ginny said, narrowing her eyes again, ‘you really should have – and a lot sooner. Excuse
me.’

Neville watched as Ginny got up quickly and left the table. ‘Oops,’ he said, but couldn’t help
the small smile that came to his face.



Draco hovered in the air, swaying back and forth on his broomstick as he guarded the Quidditch
goal posts. Out in the field, he could see that Harry was using his keen eyes to search for the
Golden Snitch for their team. Sirius Black, Nymphadora Tonks, and Katie Bell made up their teams
Chasers. Two new members of the Order rounded out the team as their Beaters – named Roger Linton
and Giles Morgan.

The opposing team was made up of Charlie Weasley as the Seeker and Ron Weasley as Keeper. Dean
Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Bill Weasley as Chasers. Finally, Fred and George Weasley as
Beaters.

Down on the benches, Hermione, Luna, Hagrid and Remus watched the friendly game of Quidditch,
cheering on both teams.

Draco could only spare them a glance every now and then. He smiled when Hermione gave him a big
thumbs up, but before he could respond with a cocky grin, Bill Weasley was charging through the air
towards him, Quaffle in hand. He squared his shoulders, shifted lightly, fainting to the right.
Bill took the bait and went left. Draco swung back and caught the Quaffle with ease. Showing off,
he tossed the ball into the air and caught it behind his back, before hurling the ball out into the
field again.

Sirius caught it and made his own attack on Ron Weasley’s goal posts. The black haired wizard
laughed as he whizzed past Dean Thomas, weaving his way through the air, avoiding the Bludgers
being sent his way by the Weasley twins. He pulled up short as Seamus flew right at him and tossed
the Quaffle to his left into the waiting hands of Katie Bell. Bell soured up into the air and went
high with the Quaffle, hoping to catch Ron off guard, but he was ready for it and quickly caught
the ball out of mid air.

The play continued, growing more heated. Sirius and Katie hogged the Quaffle for their team, all
but ignoring a furious Tonks as she shouted at them to pass the ball. They both knew what would
happen if they included her in play and both of them wanted to avoid it if at all possible. Their
suspicions proved correct when Sirius was corned and Bell was too far away, forcing Sirius to pass
to Tonks. The oft-clumsy witch fumbled the Quaffle right into the hands of Bill Weasley, who
swooped right past her and scored a quick goal before Draco could even realise what had
happened.

‘Oops, sorry!’ Tonks called out, blushing.

For lack of a better word, the “Weasley” team laughed and exchanged high fives in midair.
’60-40,’ Dean called out, ‘woo! Yeah baby!’

As play resumed, Draco kept his eyes glued on the action. The Weasley team’s Chasers kept the
Quaffle in motion, passing quickly between each other as his team’s Beaters attempted to unman
them. He glanced quickly up at Harry, who was motionless high above, eyes still scanning the field
for the elusive Snitch, but the action quickly got his attention again as Finnigan attempted a
shot. He caught the Quaffle with less than his usual grace and skill and tossed it back into
play.

Sirius grabbed the ball out of the air, spun with a deft twitch of his broomstick and flew down
field, aiming at the goal. His ropes flapped around him, the wind blowing his scraggly hair out
behind his head, mimicking his robes. He twisted gracefully, throwing everyone off with his unusual
movements, spinning like a top as he neared the goal.

The Weasley team gaped at him in astonishment, too surprised to put up much defence. Ron’s eyes
widened as Sirius came out of his spin alarmingly close, too close for him to do anything as the
Quaffle sailed right by his ear and through the center hoop. Sirius rained up with a huge grin on
his face.

‘What a goal!’ Hagrid boomed from the stands.

Draco had to admit, the half-giant had it right. He’d never seen anything like it.

‘Don’t feel bad Ron,’ he heard Sirius say after his barking laugh had subsided, ‘you didn’t
stand a chance of catching that one. It was straight out of the James Potter handbook.’

That made the score 60-50, but the game came to a stand still before play could resume once
again. Ginny Weasley was striding towards the Quidditch pitch, red hair blowing in the wind. She
swiped it roughly aside as Hermione went to greet her. Draco watched as the two conversed, an
uncomfortable weight settling into his stomach. For some reason, he had a really bad feeling about
this.

The bad feeling was confirmed when Ginny turned to glare up at him. ‘Draco Malfoy, get down here
right now!’

Draco glanced out into the field. The Weasley family gave him dark looks, obviously under the
impression that he had done something wrong, something that had upset their sister. Dean Thomas was
looking particularly smug – the bastard.

‘What’s going on?’ Harry shouted down at him.

Draco shrugged. ‘I better go see what this is about,’ he said, looking apologetically up at
Harry. ‘Sorry about this.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Harry said, flying down.

‘Lovers spat?’ Sirius teased, zoomed up field with a wicked grin of anticipation on his face. ‘I
love these,’ he said, wringing his hands eagerly.

‘Love this,’ Draco said, giving him the finger, before zipping down to join Ginny, Sirius’
barking laughter echoing in his ears.

‘Hey, we need a Keeper,’ Sirius shouted out as Draco landed in front of an upset looking Ginny.
‘Remus! Get your butt up here!’

‘Are you kidding?’ Remus replied, but Draco barely heard him, his eyes were focused on Ginny’s
hurt emerald ones.

‘Hi, what’s wrong?’

‘We need to talk,’ Ginny said, taking his hand and pulling him away from the field.

‘Leave the broom!’ Sirius shouted after them.



Ginny dragged Draco away from the Quidditch field and away from Hogwarts. She still held his
hand tightly, making sure he couldn’t escape. He matched her pace evenly as she marched him
onwards, not complaining, or even saying anything. That was fine with her. She needed time to think
anyway.

After Neville had told her the truth, she had been all set to rip Draco to shreds. But the walk
down to the Quidditch pitch had given her time to really think about the whole situation, and she
wasn’t so sure she should rip him to shreds anymore. She was still pissed, of course, but…. she
just wasn’t sure.

‘Ginny?’ Draco interrupted her thoughts, pulling her to a stop when he ceased following her.

She kept going, or tried to, but was surprised to find that she couldn’t even budge him. He had
allowed her to drag him this far, but apparently this was as far as he would go. She turned to face
him with a stern expression. This was far enough anyway. She couldn’t put it off any longer.

Even so, she looked around, trying to buy a little more time. They had stopped by the Lake,
Hagrid’s hut in the distance. The wind swept the grass, blowing it back and forth hypnotically. She
stared at it and tried to think of what she was going to say.

‘We need to talk?’ Draco pressed, trying to hide how anxious he was, but not doing very
well.

She glanced up at him and cleared her throat. Here goes. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘we do.’

‘Well?’ Draco prompted when she didn’t continue.

‘I think you know,’ Ginny said, looking up into his grey eyes.

He looked down at where she still held his hand. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said.

‘You lied to me,’ she said.

‘Oh.’

‘Oh?’ Ginny laughed. ‘Is that all you can say? Oh?’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Draco admitted.

‘Then don’t say anything,’ Ginny said. ‘Just listen to me.’

‘Okay.’

Despite this, Ginny couldn’t continue. She still didn’t even know what to say. How to put what
she was feeling into words he could understand. So the silence stretched on, neither of them saying
a word. He waited patiently as she tried to sort through her thoughts, and she was grateful for
that. She gave his hand a squeeze.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘just listen and pay attention. I think I know why you lied to me. I can
understand that. I know you Draco, every stupid bit of you. You got scared, so you didn’t tell me
the truth. But… I know now. And I’m not really all that mad. I mean, I am mad, but not mad to point
where we’d… you know… break up. I know that’s what scared you. You thought that if you told the
truth, then we wouldn’t ever get back together, but… but that was wrong.’ Ginny laughed with a
little self-deprecation. ‘I can’t stay away. Maybe it would have made things harder. But in the
end, we’d be together again. I could be mad at you now, I could rant and rave at you, drag you over
the coals, and I’m well in my rights to do that. But why should I? What’s the point? I’d forgive
you eventually and we’d get back together. Why waste time being mad? So… so that’s it, I
guess.’

Draco was staring at her in surprise when she finished. ‘That’s it?’ he asked, disbelieving.

‘Well,’ Ginny sighed, ‘I’m still a bit mad. You’re going to have to make it up to me. And if you
lie to me again, well, I’ll probably still forgive you, but… please don’t do it again. When will
you learn that you can be honest with me? I love you. Whatever you do, I can’t control that, I
can’t change it, and neither can you. No matter what you do, it seems, I’ll always love you. And
I’m too weak to stay away, even though I probably should. Just be honest with me, please.’

‘I’ll try,’ he said, stepping closer.

She put her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. ‘Try hard,’ she said
sternly.

He laughed. ‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I’m serious Draco,’ she chastised, pulling back to give him her best glare.

‘I know,’ Draco replied, serious as well. ‘I’m serious too. I really will try - as hard as I
can. I want you to be happy… more than anything.’

‘Thank you,’ Ginny murmured as she leant up to kiss him on the lips. ‘Don’t forget, I’m still
mad at you.’

‘If this is you mad,’ Draco said pointedly, trailing off with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on
his sharp face.

Ginny whacked him on the arm as hard as she could. ‘Stop trying to trivialise this,’ she
scolded.

‘Come on Ginny, you can’t expect me to pass that up,’ he argued. ‘Anyway, I think I know just
how I can make it up to you.’

‘What do you… oh…’ Ginny tried very hard to keep the excited smile off her face as realisation
dawned. ‘And what makes you think you’ve earned that privilege?’

‘Trust me,’ Draco drawled, leaning down to whisper in her ear with his hot breath, ‘you don’t
want to turn this down. I guarantee, after this, you won’t even remember being mad at me.’

‘So confident, aren’t you?’ Ginny teased. ‘I’m not so sure…’

‘I’ll prove it to you.’

‘Please do.’

With a delighted giggle, Ginny ran after Draco as he pulled her towards Hagrid’s hut.

‘In there?’ Ginny gasped, eyes wide.

‘Got a problem with that?’ Draco asked, smirking that damn sexy smirk of his.

Ginny hardened her face. ‘Nope,’ she said, popping the “p”. ‘Do your worst, Draco Malfoy.’

‘Worst?’ he chuckled. ‘How about… best.’ The door of Hagrid’s cabin slammed behind them.



Harry and Charlie spotted the Snitch at the same time.

Team Weasley was up by seventy points, but if Harry could catch the Snitch, his team would win.
He angled his broom down, diving towards the fluttering gold object as it hovered just above the
grass on the right side of the pitch. Charlie was sweeping along the grass; eyes alight, bearing
down fast. Harry pushed his broom faster, his hand twitching, ready.

At first, he didn’t realise what was happening as the warm living room flashed before his eyes.
He blinked, shaking his head, focusing again on the Snitch, but not two seconds later and his eyes
clouded over again. He saw the room more clearly this time.

It was night time outside, a fire was roaring in the fireplace, and a couple sat together on an
old cream sofa.

Harry felt his hands loosening on the broom, but he couldn’t see anything but the living room.
He heard a cry of fear, heard a crash at the same time that the door of the cottage (and that was
surely what it was) blew open, showering the room in splinters. Someone screamed.

The cottage was bathed in a bright crimson glow. Jane Granger shrieked as she jumped up from the
sofa, her hand flying to her mouth. Her husband joined her, standing protectively in front of her.
As the splintered bits of wood clattered to the floor and against the far wall, three dark robed
figures entered the house.

‘Who are you?’ Alan Granger roared in defiance, clenching his fists. ‘What do you…’ He trailed
off, his eyes dropping to the gigantic snake as it slithered in between the three robed figures.
His jaw fell open. He’d never seen anything so monstrously huge in his life. He backed up a step,
pushing his wife up against the wall.

‘Alan,’ Jane’s voiced quivered, her eyes riveted on the doorway. ‘Look.’

A pale white hand grasped the doorframe. Standing in the doorway, Lord Voldemort turned his head
up, his crimson snakelike eyes glowing malevolently. He smiled.

Jane Granger shrieked again and fainted.

‘Harry?’ A voice called from far away.

He felt like he was shaking.

‘Harry? Can you hear me?’ Was that… Sirius?

He was shaking… no, someone was shaking him. He tried to open his eyes. It was harder than it
should be.

‘Ugh,’ he groaned. His body felt like it had been ran over. His eyes opened a little. He could
see Hermione kneeling over him, her face tear streaked and worried. ‘Hermione…’ He groaned, his
vision coming back to him, his heart thumping in his chest.

‘Harry!’ Hermione cried, burying her head in his chest. ‘Do you hurt anywhere? Are you
okay?’

‘Hermione,’ he whispered, tears coming to his eyes.

‘What? What is it? Are you okay?’ Hermione asked anxiously, pulling back to look into his facer
again.

‘Hermione, I’m so sorry.’ He reached for her hand, relieved to find that he could move. ‘I’m so
sorry.’

He saw the realisation hit her face. Her mouth fell down at the corners; her tears ran fresh
down her already stained cheeks, her mouth quivering. He didn’t have to say it. She knew. She saw
it in his face.

Voldemort had found her parents.



31. Chapter Thirty-One
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I got ambushed by Gilmore Girls.
Anyway, here it is, and the follow up chapter should be up soon. Reviews, as always, are much
appreciated. Enjoy!
Harry Potter and the Year of Discord Chapter Thirty-One
Hermione was silent as Sirius and Remus helped Harry up. She followed along behind them, numb
with shock, numb to the point that tears couldn’t even form in her eyes. She couldn’t even bring
herself to be concerned for Harry, she barely saw him limping along between his godfather and
Remus.

The thought of her parents being at the mercy of Voldemort – it was simply too much. She didn’t
want to think about it. She couldn’t bear to imagine it. She just would not let herself accept it.
She shut down. She was a mindless automaton, unthinking and unfeeling.

Hermione barely remembered the slow walk up to the Headmaster’s office. She sat in the corner of
the room as Harry was helped into his usual seat across form Dumbledore. She curled up into the
small comfy couch at the back of the room and simply stared. Harry was telling Dumbledore
everything that had happened. Sirius and Remus listening intently by the door. Sometime into the
meeting, the two older wizards left. She couldn’t remember why.

Harry left his seat while they waited and knelt on his knees in front of her. She vaguely
realised that he mustn’t be too badly hurt if he was moving without assistance, but only vaguely.
He tried to catch her eyes, but she didn’t move them, her gaze locked on a part of the wall behind
Dumbledore. She felt him take her hands.

When Sirius and Remus returned, they looked grave, and she finally knew that it was over. Her
parents were gone. Everything she had been trying not to think about, every emotion she had been
trying to keep in check, it all broke free and overwhelmed her.

She didn’t remember anything after that.




Harry comforted Hermione in her bed. She had yet to say even a word to him since his horrible
revelation. He held her close to his chest and stroked her back and hair as she lay there unmoving.
He wasn’t sure if she slept or not. It didn’t matter. He wanted to say something, but he thought
that words might not be the best things right now. She didn’t need to hear that he was going to
make Voldemort pay. She didn’t need to hear how sorry he was. None of that mattered to her. He
understood that better than anyone.

Her parents were gone and they wouldn’t be coming back.

‘I was…’

Her words barely stirred the air, but Harry heard them. He pulled her closer and kissed her
head. ‘What Hermione?’

She sniffed. ‘I was going to ask Dumbledore to bring them to Hogwarts.’

Harry didn’t know what to say to that.

‘I should have… sooner… then they would be…’

‘You couldn’t have known,’ Harry said softly. ‘It’s not your fault Hermione. You had no way of
knowing what was going to happen.’

‘I know.’

The silence between them stretched on until, somehow, despite everything, Harry fell asleep. He
dreamt.




He was Voldemort in his dream. He was looking at himself in a mirror. The pale, snake visage
looked back at him with a pure feeling of elation writ all over his horrifying features. Victory
was on the horizon.

‘Harry Potter,’ he said, ‘you really need to keep a better guard against my… oh, I see. You
wanted this.’ He laughed. ‘I know. I know. That rage inside you, it fills me with such joy. We’re
not so different, you and I. It truly is a shame I have to kill you. With a little guidance, a few
lessons in the ways of the world, you might become a great wizard like me, but unfortunately… that
will never happen. I seem to have digressed. I’ll get to the point. I know how much you want to
kill me… I feel it… so I will give you that opportunity. I am tired of these games. I propose a
duel. Come to me, at this location,’ Harry saw a flash of a windy hillside in his head, ‘and we
will duel. You must come alone. I promise you a fair fight. My Death Eaters will be there, but they
will not get involved. You must know that I do not need them. We’ll settle this alone, as it was
meant to be. And if you do come, which I strongly advice, I will release your Mudblood girlfriends
parents. They will be free to return home, with my promise that they will not be harmed at all. I
have no interest in killing two pathetic Muggles. They are beneath me. It’s you I want. They are
merely a tool to bring you to me. I will be waiting.’

Then the dream was over.




Harry once again lay in his bed with Hermione, awake now, feeling the weight of the ultimatum
settling inside him. Voldemort had not said it. He didn’t need to. If Harry didn’t show up,
Hermione’s parents would die. Grimly, he smiled, because he had no choice. Now he just had to
figure out how he was going to do this, and come out alive.

There was another meeting in the Headmaster’s office. It was barely past midnight, but the
matters discussed would not wait for morning. Harry told the gathered Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus,
Hermione, Draco and Ginny all about his dream, and Voldemort’s proposition.

After the dream, Harry had woken Hermione, and told her everything. Her eyes widened when he
informed her about the fate of her parents. He got dressed as he spoke. She followed him, pulling
on her nightgown, as he left her bedroom and entered the main chamber of the Head’s dormitory.
Draco and Ginny huddled together on the couch. They instantly broke apart when he entered and stood
up. They watched as he told Hermione he was going to talk to Dumbledore. As expected, they all
followed.

And so here they gathered. Dumbledore listened, his eyes not betraying his thoughts as Harry
recounted the whole tale. When he finished, Dumbledore let out a long sigh, and asked, ‘and what
have you decided?’

‘I’m going,’ Harry said ardently.

‘Harry, that’s insane,’ Remus said. ‘It’s obviously a trap.’

‘You think a don’t know that?’ Harry argued.

‘He has no choice,’ Sirius opined. ‘He has to go.’

‘I’m afraid I must agree with Remus,’ Dumbledore said. ‘This decision is foolhardy. I sympathise
with you and Miss Granger, but they are lost. We have no guarantee that he will let them go.’

‘That’s my parents you’re talking about!’ Hermione yelled.

‘Do you want to lose Harry as well as your parents?’ Dumbledore asked her softly, with great
sadness in his aged eyes.

Hermione fell silent and bowed her head.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Harry said, steely voiced, ‘because I’m going, whether you agree with my
decision or not. This is my fight. Hermione’s parents are in trouble because of me. I can’t just do
nothing. You’re probably right. No doubt it’s a trap. But maybe I can still win.’

‘How?’ Dumbledore asked, looking over his interlocked fingers.

‘I’ll release my power,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t have to worry about hurting anyone. I’ll be out in
the middle of nowhere. And the only people there will be ones I don’t mind hurting.’

‘And the Grangers?’

‘I don’t think Voldemort cares one whit what happens to them,’ Harry said. ‘They’re just the
bait. I’m pretty sure he’ll let them go without a fuss.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Dumbledore said, shaking his head. ‘Pretty sure does not allay my worries.
It’s too risky.’

‘So let’s tip the scales our way,’ Draco spoke for the first time. ‘Voldemort won’t play by the
rules. Why in the name of Merlin’s balls should we?’

‘And what do you propose Mister Malfoy?’ Dumbledore asked, turning to face the silver haired
wizard.

‘We have Harry’s Invisibility Cloak,’ Draco said, ‘so we should use that. It’s one of our
biggest advantages. I’ll go with Harry, under the cloak, and watch the situation. When things start
to heat up, I’ll call for back up.’

‘How?’

Draco unbuttoned his shirt and exposed the charmed pendant. ‘This pendant isn’t just for show.
Ginny has the twin around her neck. When we need to see each other, all we have to do is take hold
of the pendant, and say the others name. The twin will start to glow and burn. That’s how I’ll send
the signal.’

‘It won’t work,’ Remus pointed out. ‘Voldemort will have anti-apparition wards placed around the
entire area. Once Harry gets through, they’ll be closed so tight we’ll never get through, no matter
how much you signal us. It’s a good plan, but with those wards, I just don’t see it working.’

Everyone fell silent for a moment as they all took in this bit of unfortunate news, each trying
to think of a compromise.

‘I can break the wards.’

Every single eye in the room turned to face Hermione. She didn’t blanche. This time she was
going to do her part. She wasn’t just going to sit on the sidelines this time. She wasn’t a
fighter, but she could still help. She was going to prove that. And she *was* going to save
her parents!

‘I can break them,’ she repeated. ‘I’ll go in Draco’s stead. I’ll break them and then signal for
back up.’

‘You’re sure you can do this?’ Dumbledore asked, very serious.

‘I am,’ Hermione replied.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. ‘Very well,’ he eventually said, ‘I will call every single
member of the Order here. Tonight we will strike at Voldemort. Everyone go and prepare.’

‘Dumbledore,’ Harry said, as everyone except Hermione went to leave.

‘Yes Harry?’

‘Wake up Neville Longbottom,’ Harry said. ‘I want him involved in this attack.’

‘Very well,’ Dumbledore said, trusting Harry’s judgement.

Harry thought for a moment. ‘Ron Weasley as well,’ he said.

Dumbledore nodded.

‘Harry?’ Hermione got his attention, putting her hand on his arm. He looked at her
questioningly. ‘Harry, are you okay with this? My being involved, I mean. I’m going to be in the
middle of all this…’ she trailed off provokingly.

‘I don’t like it,’ Harry admitted, ‘but I’m okay with it. This is your parents’ we’re talking
about. I understand that nothing I say or do will keep you away. You deserve the chance to help
save them.’

‘Thank you Harry,’ Hermione said, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

Harry appeared on the windy hillside, apparently alone, the great gusts of wind blowing his
cloak about him wildly. He held Dumbledore’s wand in hand and stared across the grassy fields
towards Voldemort’s camp. The sky was dark and cloudy, morning coming slowly on the horizon, rising
with the sun.

Harry walked forwards slowly, into the midst of the enemy.

Voldemort’s Death Eaters congregated in groups, most wearing their characteristic black robes
and skull masks, wands in hands. Voldemort waited for him at the far side of the gathering.

Harry walked through the crowd as if unafraid. He looked around as he passed the groups, seeing
a few uncovered familiar faces on either side of him, none of them friendly. Blaise Zabini held his
skull mask in his free hand. He grinned with anticipation as Harry passed him and licked his lips
mockingly.

Voldemort was seated on a stone throne that rose out of the ground like a pyramid. He rose from
his throne as Harry closed the distance. They stood before each other silently at first, Harry
looking up into the taller wizards ghastly face. Then Voldemort stretched his arms out and said,
‘Welcome Harry Potter.’

The Death Eaters laughed.

‘Alright,’ Harry said calmly, ‘I’m here. Release the Grangers.’

‘Why of course,’ Voldemort said, and snapped his long pale fingers.

Two figures were shoved forwards through the crowds of gathered black cloaks. They fell to their
knees in front of Harry. Mrs. Granger let out a gasp of surprise as her eyes found Harry. ‘What’s
going on?’ Mr. Granger roared, turning his head every which way, his eyes blind and white. A few of
the Death Eaters chuckled.

‘What did you do?’ Harry asked through his teeth, staring at Mr. Granger, appalled.

‘Oh, I’m afraid my presence terrified him so much he went blind,’ Voldemort said calmly, his
lips curling into what passed for a smile. The Death Eater all laughed this time.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Voldemort.

Voldemort stared back with his placid smile. ‘In truth, the male Muggle demanded to be released,
and said he never wanted to see me again. Of course, I couldn’t grant his first request, but the
second, that one was easy.’ Voldemort kept eye contact with Harry and smiled wider as he read
Harry’s murderous thoughts.

Harry clenched his fists into balls and looked down at the ground, to hide his eyes from
Voldemort. He preyed that Hermione had stayed out of the fray and that she didn’t know that her
father had been blinded. He needed her to be on the top of her game.

‘Harry?’ Mrs. Granger whispered, staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, looking into her face with an even expression. ‘It’s me.’ Harry turned to
face Voldemort again. ‘So, I’m here, now let them go.’

‘No, you didn’t!’ Mrs. Granger cried out.

‘It’s fine,’ Harry said, glancing back at her. ‘Trust me, I can handle myself.’

‘You’re just a boy,’ she sobbed.

‘I stopped being a boy the day I found out *he* killed my parents,’ Harry said, looking
back with steely eyes to Voldemort.

Voldemort laughed. ‘Still holding a grudge? You know, they didn’t need to die. If they had only
stepped aside…’

‘You think I care?’ Harry said. ‘It’s done. Now are you a man of your word or not?’

Voldemort gestured to the Grangers. ‘They are free to go,’ he said.

Harry stepped forward to help Mr. Granger up. ‘This is all your fault,’ Mr. Granger hissed,
gripping Harry’s arms.

‘You can castrate me later,’ Harry said. ‘Mrs. Granger, get your husband out of here. Take
this,’ he said, reaching into his pocket and handing her an empty coke bottle, ‘and keep walking.
Make sure you are both holding it. In about five, maybe ten minutes, you should be transported to a
safe place. But you must make sure you both hold it at all times. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Mrs. Granger said, taking the bottle. ‘Thank you Harry.’

‘Just go,’ Harry said.

Harry, Voldemort, and the rest of the Death Eaters watched as the Grangers left in a shuffling
walk. Mrs. Granger had to hold up her husband. When they had disappeared down the other side of the
hill. Harry turned back to face Voldemort. He held up his borrowed wand. ‘So, shall we do
this?’

Voldemort gestured to the wand. ‘A new wand?’

‘Dumbledores,’ Harry said, smirking.

Voldemort laughed. ‘I suppose he thinks this fitting.’

‘The idea does have a certain amount of poetry to it,’ Harry replied.

Voldemort began to descend from his stone throne. He waved his wand, not casting a spell, but
just to signify that the duel was beginning. The Death Eaters all started to move back to give them
room.

Harry prepared himself.

Hermione had indeed stayed away from the thick of Death Eaters. She could do her job from back
here, away from the crowd. The idea of being in the middle of all those Death Eaters terrified her.
She didn’t know if she would be able to concentrate on undoing the wards if she entered the enemy’s
camp. It was better to remain here.

The wards had been erected as soon as Harry and Hermione arrived. She had felt them settle
around her, thick like sticky pudding. She started to doubt her ability to pull this off as Harry
walked away from her into the camp, but nevertheless she concentrated underneath the Indivisibility
Cloak, her wand tracing the air as she tried to find a weak spot.

Hermione had noticed her parents come stumbling out of camp, and she wanted desperately to go
after them, to assure herself that they were really okay, but she knew she couldn’t. Her parents
might be safe, but now because of that, Harry was in grave danger. He needed her.

*Focus Hermione*, she thought to herself, biting on her bottom lip. *You can do this. You
have to!*

Except, she didn’t know if she *could*.



32. Chapter Thirty-Two
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Gah, I hate writing battle scenes. Ah well, I did the best I could. I’m
really interested in how you all will react to this chapter, so please, if you only do it once,
leave me a review for this one and let me know. I think you’ll be able to figure out why when you
finish. Thanks for the reading either way.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Thirty-Two
‘I’m going.’

Ginny stated these words emphatically. She stared at Draco as he stopped tying his laces and
looked up at her.

‘I don’t care what you say,’ she went on, ‘I’m going.’

‘This isn’t some game Ginny,’ Draco pointed out with a frown.

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Ginny growled. ‘Dammit Draco, I know what this is! It’s war! My
entire family are invested in this. I have to go. I need to.’

‘You really think you can help?’ Draco asked, finishing his laces and standing up to tower over
her.

‘I have to try,’ Ginny replied.

‘Ginny,’ Draco said, taking her hands, ‘you don’t have to do anything. You shouldn’t feel
obligated to put yourself at risk just because the rest of your family do.’

‘It’s not about them,’ Ginny argued. ‘It’s about me. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I have to
prove to myself that I can do this. That I’m not just some useless girl.’

‘You could never be just anything,’ Draco said, pulling her close and kissing her deeply.
‘You’re amazing Ginny.’

‘It won’t work,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘I’m going.’

Draco frowned again. ‘Fine,’ he said, pushing her away. ‘Strap on your wand firecracker.’

Ginny watched as Draco stormed from the room. She sighed. She wished he could understand her
need to prove herself. In the past, every time she had the chance to prove her courage and worth,
she had let the opportunity slip by. She froze and became a meek little mouse. She always felt
weak

Ginny grabbed her wand and held it tightly to her chest.

‘This time it will be different,’ she whispered to herself, and then went after Draco.

Dirt exploded from the ground and got in Harry’s eyes. He ducked to the floor and raised an arm
to shield himself. Another explosion of earth sent him scrambling backwards. The Death Eaters on
all sides of him laughed as Voldemort toyed with him like a cat with a mouse.

‘What’s wrong Harry Potter?’ Voldemort taunted. ‘I thought you could handle yourself just
fine.’

Harry stood up and brushed dirt from the sleeve of his robe. He raised his wand again and
narrowed his eyes at Voldemort. ‘Why don’t you quit playing around and get serious?’ Harry
challenged.

‘You want more?’ Voldemort smiled wickedly. ‘Who am I to refuse? *Avada Kedavra!*’

Harry rolled to the side and the earth exploded again.

‘*Avada Kedavra!*’

And again, Harry moved, and dodged the lethal curse.

‘Aren’t you getting tired of running Harry Potter?’ Voldemort taunted, laughing. ‘You can only
run for so long, boy.’

‘Just keep ‘em coming,’ Harry called out, ‘I wonder who will tire out first?’

‘Let’s find out – *Avada Kedavra!*’

Harry used his wand to create a shield of earth before him. The earth exploded back at him and
he fell backwards, into a roll, and back to his feet.

‘*Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!*’

The three Killing Curses raised a line of broken dirt into the air as Harry ran sideways. He
came to a stop, anticipating the next move, and cast his arm out, wand pointing towards the crowd
of Death Eaters. He mouthed a silent spell.

‘*Avada Kedavra!*’ Voldemort yelled.

The green jet of light was bearing down on Harry (who waited for it with a smirk on his face)
when all of sudden a black-cloaked figure flew into the space between the Killing Curse and Harry.
He was struck by the curse and flung up into the air with the forcefulness of the spell, before
coming crashing back down to the ground at Harry’s feet. He held his skull mask rigidly in his now
dead fingers.

The crowd of Death Eaters and Voldemort fell silent with shock. Harry stepped over the
motionless form of Theodore Nott, wand raised towards Voldemort now.

‘That was a very nice move Harry Potter,’ Voldemort complimented. ‘A move worthy of a
Slytherin.’

‘You scared?’ Harry taunted.

Voldemort laughed, but he was the only one. ‘Hardly,’ he said waspishly.

‘*Avada Kedavra!*’

‘*Avada Kedavra!*’

The simultaneously cast Killing Curses collided in mid air and exploded with a huge blast of
green light. Harry and Voldemort both flew backwards. Harry hit the ground hard and had the wind
knocked out of him. Voldemort disappeared in mid air with barely a sound and reappeared atop his
throne. He strode quickly down the steps and stopped over Harry’s winded body. He pointed his wand
down.

‘How unfortunate that it should end this way,’ Voldemort said mockingly. ‘And this time,
Dumbledore will not be coming to your rescue.’ Voldemort curled his lips back. ‘*Avada* -
’

*CRACK!*

The sound of reinforcements arriving was like a bullet being shot right in Harry’s ear. One
moment, the field in which Harry and Voldemort duelled was empty save for them and the ring of
Death Eaters that surrounded them. The next moment, it was full to the brim with members of the
Order of the Phoenix.

Chaos ensued.

It was impossible to take in all that happened in the brief, hectic battle between the Death
Eaters and the Order. Harry watched as Voldemort whipped his head from side to side in disbelief.
He saw his chance in that moment, raised his wand, and whispered weakly, still winded from the
fall, ‘*Avada Kedavra*.’ But Voldemort saw it coming and vanished with a swirl of cloak before
the curse could strike home.

The next moment Dumbledore was there, kneeling beside Harry. ‘Take my arm,’ he said, holding his
handless right arm out. Harry gripped it without a word. He felt the press of apparition all around
him and then it was gone.

He was in Hogsmeade with Dumbledore.

He gasped for breath and sat up, staring around, then up at Dumbledore. ‘You Apparated,’ he
said, with only a small amount of surprise.

Dumbledore gave a soft laugh. ‘I am not a child, Harry.’ Dumbledore showed him Severus Snape’s
wand strapped to his arm. ‘I do not need my hands to perform magic. Granted, I am not nearly as
powerful anymore, but I manage.’

‘The Grangers?’ Harry asked, looking around.

‘The Grangers are fine,’ Dumbledore informed him. ‘They should be safe inside Hogwarts by now.
Are you ready to return to the battle?’

‘Let’s go,’ Harry said, pushing himself back to his feet.

With dual *cracks*, they disappeared.

The battle raged on.

The faint morning light was coloured with various hues as spells and curses flew every which
way.

Draco ducked and weaved through the chaos, flinging his own curses at any Death Eater that
crossed his path. He and Ginny had arrived together, but in all the activity, he had lost her along
the way. Now he was trying to find her again.

Neville had taken cover behind Voldemort’s discarded throne. He was soon joined by Sirius; who
seemed to be having a great time jumping up onto the stone throne and casting curses down on the
bustling crowd with roaring exuberance.

Neville laughed at the older mans zest for battle and began to shoot more curses into the crowd
in response.

Ginny felt the fear thundering in her heart and raging throughout her veins, but she didn’t
allow herself to be overcome. She kept her guard up as she ran through the bedlam that was the
magical battle between light and dark. Her wand felt slippery in her hand.

She had lost Draco quickly in all of the confusion and now that he was no longer around, she was
beginning to think she had made a big mistake coming here. However, Ginny was stubborn, and
wouldn’t allow that fear to overtake her. She was going to prove herself. And do it now.

Ginny pointed her wand at the back of a Death Eater, and though Dumbledore had - with a heavy
heart - given the all clear on the Killing Curse, she just couldn’t cast it, so she stunned her
unawares opponent and moved on to the next.

She wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

As she turned to find her next target, his face jumped out at her, and he saw her at the same
time. She felt ice freezing her veins and her heart – her face paled – and she froze. Terror
overtook her, whether she liked it or not.

Blaise Zabini strolled lazily towards her through the battle. It seemed almost as if they had
dropped out of the world and into their own little one. It was just the two of them. No body paid
them any attention. He was smiling at her, but it wasn’t a reassuring smile. It was sick and
twisted and more evil than anything she had ever seen. Voldemort had nothing on Blaise Zabini.

The only thing she could to was grip the pendant hanging around her neck and whisper,
‘Draco.’

‘Well, well, well,’ he called, sauntering towards her motionless, frozen form, ‘if it isn’t
Ginny Weasley. Where’s Draco? What? Can’t speak? Are you that happy to see me?’ He grinned a toothy
smile. ‘I’m flattered, really, that I mean so much to you. Truth is, I’ve missed you as well.’

He was too close now, but Ginny still couldn’t move. She felt his hand on her waist as he pulled
her closer. She remember Draco doing a similar move earlier, but instead of being nice, she felt
her skin crawl as his hand trailed down further and groped her. His face was right there, in front
of her, she could even smell his breath as he leaned in close.

‘Let’s go somewhere a little more…’ he licked his lips, ‘private.’

Ginny was compressed as Blaise apparated away, dragged her with him.

She gasped in surprise as the sensation disappeared and air returned to her lungs, but she was
too horrified, like a deer caught in the headlights, to look around at her new surroundings. All
she could see was her own worst nightmare.

Blaise still held her tightly. ‘I’ve dreamed of this moment,’ he whispered softly, and she felt
him grind his groin into her vulgarly, ‘every night. Ooh, yes,’ he hissed, moving his face to the
side of hers and nibbling on her ear, ‘every night, alone in my bed, my hand wrapped around myself,
hmm, I knew you’d taste so sweet. I want more!’ And he bit hard into her earlobe and tore at her.
She cried out in pain as her flesh was ripped.

He kept her steady in his grasp as she screamed out in anguish. It was a long, painful cry from
deep within her chest. When the scream had subsided, he gripped her face between his hands and
pulled back to look at her. Tears coursed down her cheeks. His mouth was dripping with her blood.
He spat the ear lobe out at her and laughed as she flinched.

She couldn’t even beg - she was too terrified even for that.

He closed the distance and kissed her tears away. She was shaking uncontrollably and he shushed
her soothingly, like a mother, but it wasn’t soothing. It was even more terrifying.

‘It’s alright,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll make it right. It’s alright. Relax. I’ll take
care of it. I’ll make it right. Would you like that?’

She knew that this was wrong, but she couldn’t think straight. She found herself nodding.

‘That’s right,’ he said, smiling at her, ‘I’ll make it all right. Just… *relaaaax*.’

Ginny felt her eyelids drooping. She couldn’t… was she supposed to… think….

Blaise kissed her on the lips.

It was the kiss of Death.

The battle was over, before it had even really got started.

The whole thing had taken less than five minutes.

Harry and Dumbledore walked through the bodies, searching. Black Death Eater cloaks and the
bodies of their friends and comrades littered the ground. The battle had a high cost on both
sides.

‘Harry!’

Harry and Dumbledore turned to face the sound of the voice.

Draco ran up to them, red in the face. ‘I’m looking for Ginny, have you seen her?’

Harry shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘sorry. I’m sure she’s around somewhere.’

‘Yeah,’ Draco said, but without conviction.

‘Draco! Draco!’

It was Hermione. She flew towards them as fast as she could, running full out, her hair
streaming behind her in the wind. She came to a skidding stop before them, panting, eyes wide.
‘It’s Ginny!’

‘What?’ Draco asked roughly, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

‘Hey,’ Harry said, pulling him back.

‘What happened?’ Draco shrugged Harry off.

‘The charm,’ Hermione said, holding it out to him. ‘I felt it burn. Ginny used it.’

Draco snatched it from her grip and within moments he was gone, apparating away.

‘What’s going on?’ Neville asked, coming up behind Hermione.

‘You explain,’ Harry said to Hermione, and then following the trail left by Draco, he apparated
after him.

Harry found himself standing in the middle of a plain similar to the one he had left behind. The
wind tore at his cloak as soon as he arrived, blasting loudly in his ears. His eyes scanned all
around him and came to rest on Draco’s back. His best friend was kneeling on the ground, head bowed
over another figure. Silent sobs shook Draco’s shoulders. Harry didn’t need to look to know that
the other figure was Ginny. And that something had gone very, very wrong.

In that moment Hermione and Neville arrived.

‘Harry, what…?’ Hermione trailed off as she spotted Draco as well.

Neville looked between them and Draco, and then walked briskly over to see for himself. The
colour drained from his face. He knelt next to Draco and went to touch Ginny, but Draco’s hand shot
out and shoved him away.

‘Don’t touch her!’ Draco yelled brokenly.

Harry felt Neville’s magic spike dangerously, so he quickly crossed over to him and put a
reassuring hand on his shoulder. Neville turned to face Harry, his face warped in grief, but the
energy subsided. He got back up onto his knees and simply knelt there, staring at Ginny, tears
freely flowing now.

Hermione made to move closer, but Harry held his hand up. ‘Stay there, Hermione,’ he said. ‘You
don’t need to see this.’

‘What?’

‘Just stay there,’ Harry repeated, and turned to get another look himself.

Ginny Weasley was almost unrecognisable in death. Blood caked her left ear, which was missing
its lobe, and her body was still and white. Her hair even seemed drained of colour, the usual fiery
red now rusty and dead. Her robes had been torn open down the front and her chest was bared. Harry
didn’t want to look, let alone read the words that had been carved into her flesh, but he couldn’t
help himself.

The words read:

*Still want her now Draco?*
XXX
‘Zabini.’

Draco uttered those words with more hate than Harry had ever heard in his entire life. The
guttural sound of them made one thing very clear:

Blaise Zabini was a dead man walking.

**A/N:** I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Blaise made me do it. I swear. Okay, seriously though, I hope
that wasn’t too upsetting for most of you. I tried to keep it reasonably tame because I don’t want
to offend people. Please let me know what you think. And Ginny fans, I really am sorry.



33. Chapter Thirty-Three
------------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** Hey guys. Gasp, I hear, he’s alive! Yes, I’m still alive. Sorry for the
uber long wait on this. I just felt burnt out with Harry Potter and I needed a break. But I’m back
now and ready to finish this fic. I hope you enjoy the chapter and I’m looking forward to reading
all your reviews. Thanks for your patience.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Thirty-Three
In the aftermath of the battle with Voldemort, there was a lot of mourning, for a lot of people,
but for Harry and company, as cold as it sounds; only one death mattered to them.

There would be a ceremony held at Hogwarts to honour those who gave their lives so bravely to
rescue the Grangers. That ceremony would take place tomorrow.

Right now, Harry and Hermione coupled together in Slytherin’s chamber, unconsciously trying to
create life in a time of death. The velvet green sheets rose and fell rhythmically with Harry’s
thrusts, accompanied by the pleasurable moans of delight issuing from Hermione’s mouth.

In the aftermath of their union, they lay side by side on their backs, staring up at the
reptilian fresco on the ceiling.

‘I feel horrible,’ Hermione said into the silence.

‘Thanks,’ Harry replied sarcastically.

‘What?’ Hermione was confused for a moment, but only a moment. ‘No, that’s not what I meant. The
sex was great. I mean, it was great. I felt great and I shouldn’t have felt great.’

‘Hence you feel horrible,’ Harry finished for her.

‘Yeah.’

‘Don’t.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s human nature,’ Harry said. ‘Sex is about creating life. And Ginny… she died. So you feel
sad about that, obviously, but your body is telling you in response that you need to create life.
Which is why you crave and enjoy the sex.’

‘Makes sense,’ Hermione agreed, ‘but that doesn’t make me feel any better about it.’

‘You wouldn’t be Hermione if it did,’ Harry replied.

‘It’s not just that. It was my fault she was there. If I’d only asked Dumbledore to bring my
parents to Hogwarts sooner, none of this would have happened, all those people - Ginny - they never
would have died.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Harry said, even though he knew it was useless. Hermione would always
feel responsible, even though she wasn’t. It was just in her nature.

‘Thanks for saying that Harry, but you know I can’t believe that. So many bad things happened,
too many, for me to be able to ever forgive myself. Why didn’t I ask him?’

‘There was no way you could have known what was coming,’ Harry defended her. ‘No one could have
seen it. They were supposed to be hidden away, safely protected, on my orders. Your father goes to
great pains to remind me of that every time I see him. According to him, it’s my fault.’

Hermione took a deep breath. Harry will never forget how she had reacted when she first learned
of her father’s blindness. She had cried for him, almost as if she was mourning his death, yet at
the same time, she confessed to him later, she was just happy he was safe. The conflicting feelings
had rendered her almost speechless for several days.

‘He’s wrong,’ she told Harry now.

‘I know.’ Harry wasn’t the type to take everything onto him. He couldn’t afford to weight
himself down with pointless guilt. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care. He took every death and
turned it into motivation to end it all. Every death dealt at the hand of Voldemort and his cronies
brought them closer to their eventual doom. Harry wouldn’t let one life go to waste. He might be
ultimately fighting for his revenge, but in death, they reminded him of his mission, and he owed it
to them to finish things.

‘He doesn’t mean it,’ Hermione went on. ‘He’s just angry. You can’t blame him.’

‘I don’t,’ Harry conceded.

‘My mum loves you,’ Hermione pointed out, turning on her side to give him a small smile. ‘I
think she might try to steal you for herself.’

‘Please,’ Harry scoffed.

‘I’m serious,’ Hermione said, giggling, ‘she said you’re her hero.’

Harry went silent. Hermione frowned at him and shuffled closer. ‘Harry? What is it?’

‘Ginny called me that,’ he finally replied. ‘She said I was her hero, because I saved her from
Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets.’

‘Oh.’

‘I’m no hero Hermione,’ he finished.

She moved close, snuggled into his side, and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Yes you are. You just say
that because you don’t want the responsibility.’

‘She shouldn’t have been there. Damn Draco for not stopping her.’

‘She wanted to be there,’ Hermione pointed out.

‘She was a fool.’

‘We’re all fools.’

‘Hmm,’ Harry hummed in thought.

Hermione laid her head on his chest. ‘How is Draco?’

‘He’s Draco.’

‘Still hasn’t said anything?’

‘Nope.’

‘How long do you think he’ll be like that?’

‘Who knows? But I’ll tell you one thing.’

‘What?’

‘When he finally gets his hands on Blaise,’ Harry said, ‘things are doing to get messy.’




Now that Hogwarts was no longer a school, most of the classrooms had been converted into
accommodation for the many witches and wizards seeking sanctuary from Voldemort, not to mention the
members of the Order of the Phoenix. The house dormitories were mostly used for the larger families
that now lived in the castle. This meant that the students that used to live in those dormitories
had more often than not been relocated to one of the converted classrooms.

Seraphina was one of those students. She had an apartment all to herself on the third floor of
Hogwarts. It was this former classroom that Neville found himself knocking on, and then being
admitted to.

‘Hi.’ Seraphina welcomed him. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘About as well as can be expected,’ Neville replied, moving over to take one of the comfy little
armchairs. Seraphina followed and sat down next to him on the arm.

‘You really cared about her, didn’t you?’ Seraphina commented, and wasn’t quite able to keep
jealousy from her voice.

Neville didn’t notice – he was too caught up in his own anguish.

‘We all did,’ Neville said. ‘Ginny is…. was… a wonderful person. She was the kindest, sweetest
girl I’ve ever met. She didn’t deserve to die like… like that… at the hands of that animal.’

‘Nobody deserves that,’ Seraphina pointed out.

‘I’d like to say I can agree with that,’ Neville said, and the bitterness in his voice was
shocking, ‘but I can’t. He deserves it, and so much more.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘You didn’t see her.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Seraphina conceded. ‘But I know you. You’re the sweetest, kindest person
*I’ve* ever met. You don’t have that kind of hatred in your heart. I know you don’t mean it.
You’re just upset.’

‘Upset?’ Neville laughed mockingly. ‘Upset doesn’t even cover it.’

Seraphina bit down on her lip. She hated seeing Neville this way. He was normally so wonderfully
kind that you just automatically believed that nothing could ever awaken this kind of anger. Not
even when Mandy Brocklehurst had tried to rape her had he been so angry. Then there was Ginny.

She felt spiteful and petty for thinking it, but she was jealous of the girl, because Neville
loved Ginny more than anyone -even more than Seraphina herself, his girlfriend.

And that would always be the case.

‘What can I do Neville?’

Neville didn’t reply.




Ron was sitting in his usual spot atop the Hogwarts battlements when Luna found him.

He’d been sitting there for several hours now, his mind in turmoil over the death of his little
sister. He cursed himself and Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter and everyone else for allowing her to
come along. His family had lost too much to Voldemort. He felt like he might go insane if they lost
another.

When his family had heard the news, he could hardly bear to look at his mother. It was like
losing his father all over again. He’d felt so completely useless, and as was his way, he needed to
blame someone.

He chose Draco Malfoy. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t really the Slytherin’s fault, but his
conscious mind would not allow him to acknowledge that at the time. So he had confronted Ginny’s
boyfriend and demanded to know why – why had he let her go, why didn’t he stop her, why didn’t he
protect her?

When Draco simply stood there looking back at him, silently, with the pain and heartbreak he was
feeling writ all over his face, Ron had felt his own pain snap, and he lashed out. He punched Draco
as hard as he could and sent the Slytherin down to the ground.

‘She’s dead because of you,’ he had said angrily, glaring down at Draco, and with those words
his anger left him. He felt tired and defeated.

Draco had slowly got back to his feet, met Ron’s eyes, and looked at him as if to say “hit me
again, go on, I deserve it”. Ron found he didn’t have the stomach for it anymore and simply
left.

That was a few days ago.

Ron didn’t hear Luna as she joined him. He only became aware of her when she wrapped her arms
around his midsection and leant her head down on his shoulder. He shifted his own head to make
contact with hers. The two remained like that for a while, grieving together.

‘Ginny loved you,’ Luna eventually whispered into his shoulder.

‘She loved you as well,’ Ron mumbled. ‘You were her best friend.’

‘And she was the best friend anyone could ever hope for.’

Ron kissed Luna’s blonde hair.

After a short pause, Luna asked quietly, ‘did you see her?’

Ron stiffened. ‘Yeah,’ he replied gruffly. ‘You?’

‘Hm.’ Yes, but I don’t even want to think about it. ‘I heard about your fight with Draco
Malfoy.’

‘It wasn’t a fight,’ Ron contradicted.

‘I suppose it wasn’t. Why did you hit him?’

‘It’s his fault,’ Ron said.

‘Do you really believe that?’

‘I have to,’ Ron said honestly.

‘Why?’ Luna tightened her hold on him.

‘Because if I don’t, I might go insane.’

‘I think you’ll be fine,’ Luna argued.

‘Let go please,’ Ron said, making to get to his feet.

‘Why? Ronald?’ Luna did as asked and let go of him. She moved back a few paces and watched as he
jumped down from the parapet his was sat on. He started walking back and forth. ‘Ronald? What’s
wrong?’

‘Sorry,’ Ron said, turning to face her, ‘I’ve just been sitting there for hours now. I really
needed to move a little.’ He went back to pacing. Luna watched him, a little worried.

‘Ronald?’ she asked softly. He turned to face her again. ‘Are you okay?’

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

‘I know it hurts,’ Luna said, moving closer. ‘I hurt too. But… it gets better.’

‘I know,’ Ron said, ‘I remember.’

‘Right.’ Luna got even closer. ‘You lost your dad.’

‘I barely made it through that,’ Ron admitted.

Luna stopped in front of him and opened her arms. He stepped into them. She hugged him tightly,
as tight as her tiny frame could manage. ‘I’m here this time,’ she whispered, ‘if you want me to
be.’

‘Merlin yes,’ he replied. ‘I really do.’

She pulled back to look up at him. He leant down to kiss her. Their lips touched gently at
first, but then more urgently. He ran his hands down her back. She grabbed at him. He picked her up
easily and gently lowered her to the ground. He knelt above her, she below him, and they looking
into each other’s eyes. Both knew what was going to happen. Both wanted it. Both needed it.

Ron kissed her again, his hands gently moving to open her robes. She lifted her tiny hands and
pulled at the zipper of his jeans. He gazed down at her hungrily. She was lying on her open robes,
naked except for her underwear. After opening his fly, she moved her hands to her knickers and
hooked her thumbs into the waistband. She lifted her hips and pulled, easing them down and then
off. Her body was raised in goosebumps – it was cold atop Hogwarts. He positioned himself over her
entrance.

Their eyes locked once more, and remained locked as they made love, the only audience the
swirling mass of Pollot Flies dancing in the sky above them.

The next day was witness to every single resident of Hogwarts gathered on the lawn to pay their
respects to those who lost their lives during the battle with Voldemort.

The ceremony was beautiful and bittersweet. Dumbledore talked long about the sacrifices that
must be made during war, and of the brave people willing to make those sacrifices. The audience was
silent as he talked, save for the occasional sob that accompanied the many tears.

Ron stood with his family at the front of the gathering, holing his mother’s hand. Luna was
beside him, gripping his other hand.

Neville stood with his Gran and Seraphina.

Harry, Hermione, The Grangers, Sirius and Remus converged at the start of the ceremony and
remained there throughout. Harry had his arm around Hermione’s shoulders.

Draco was the only one standing alone at the back of the crowd. He stared miserably up at
Dumbledore, who finished by reading off the names of all those that gave their lives to rescue the
Grangers. When Ginny’s name was read aloud, Draco turned on his heel and left, heading back up
towards Hogwarts.

A feast was held in the Great Hall after the ceremony. Harry found he didn’t have the heart for
it. To him, it seemed disrespectful for them to be enjoying themselves after all that had happened.
Hermione told him it wasn’t about enjoying themselves, but about honouring those that had died. He
didn’t buy it, and left shortly after.

Harry was worried about Draco, so he made his way to the Head’s private quarters, hoping to find
him there. The grieving Slytherin wasn’t there. Sighing, Harry decided to grab the Marauders Map
from Slytherin’s chamber and find his best friend that way.

On arriving at the secret chamber, he found that wouldn’t be necessary. Draco was sitting on the
floor outside the hidden entrance, evidently waiting for him. Harry wordlessly approached and
hissed the password in Parsletongue. The entrance opened and the two wizards entered.

Draco went to sit on the musty green sofa. He buried his head in his hands. Harry watched him
silently for a moment. Comforting someone wasn’t his strong point, but this was his best friend,
seriously hurting. He felt compelled to at least try.

‘Draco,’ Harry began.

‘Don’t,’ Draco interrupted him, speaking for the first time since they had brought Ginny’s body
back.

‘Okay,’ Harry replied, ‘but if you do want to talk, ever, you can talk to me. Or Hermione.
Actually, yeah, I’d go with Hermione, she’s better at this stuff.’

Draco kind of nodded in agreement.

‘So,’ Harry said awkwardly, rubbing his shoulder, ‘why uh… did you come here?’

‘I just want to get away from it all,’ Draco eventually replied. ‘No offence Harry, but will you
piss off? You can sleep with Hermione in the Head’s chambers.’

Harry glanced to his right at a certain door, a theory occurring to him. He looked back at
Draco, who looked up and met his eyes. Understanding sparked between them. Harry sighed. ‘You
sure?’

‘Never been surer.’

‘Be careful,’ Harry warned.

Draco nodded.

With one backwards glance; Harry left Draco alone in Slytherin’s chamber.




Draco remained seated on that sofa long after Harry had left. Silent tears clouded his eyes, but
he refused them. Crying was useless. It wouldn’t bring her back. It wouldn’t avenge her death. Only
one thing would do that - action.

And Draco was going to take that action.

Hardening his shoulders, Draco thrust himself upwards and propelled himself towards the door to
Slytherin’s library. He stopped, his hand hovering over the knob, and then, gripping it firmly, he
turned and pushed the door open.

The library was dark. Draco didn’t care. It suited his mood. He walked to the nearest shelf,
reached up, and grabbed a book. It didn’t matter which. He would read them all. He would remember
every spell. And he would avenge Ginny’s death.

The door to the library finally closed behind him, shutting him in with the darkness.



34. Chapter Thirty-Four
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.

**Authors Note:** I’ve been toying with the idea of going back and writing about the first
five years of my Alternate Universe. It wouldn’t be the full five years, as I’m not prepared to
take on a project that big, and it’d probably be pretty boring, at least from a romance point of
view. What I had in mind was to write a collection of one shots, sorta speak, that cover the
important events during the five years. I wouldn’t start until after I finish this fic, of course,
but I’d like to know what you all think about that. Would you be interested in reading it? Or would
I be wasting my time? Let me know in a review. Thanks and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord** Chapter Thirty-Four
The Room of Requirement had taken on the form of a training space. Wooden figures lined the far
wall, set in place for target practice. Nearest the door, Hermione and Seraphina sat watching as
Harry led Neville through a series of spells.

‘Don’t be so stiff,’ Harry instructed. ‘If your body is tense, your reaction time will suffer.
You need to relax. Be ready for anything. Be fluid like water.’

‘Like this?’ Neville said, relaxing his arm.

‘That’s better,’ Harry said, ‘but now relax your whole body. There. Don’t forget how this feels.
I know it’s difficult, especially in a battle situation, but try and memorise how it feels and your
body will react like this instinctively. Now, remember the spell I taught you last night?’

Neville nodded.

Harry pointed to one of the nearer targets. ‘Take it out.’

Neville took a deep breath, locked his eyes on the target, and mouthed the silent spell. A jet
of purple light blew apart half of the wooden statue.

‘Not bad,’ Harry praised, ‘but your aim was a little off. That spell should have obliterated the
target. Try again.’

The target reformed upon Harry’s will. Neville fired again, and this time his aim was true,
reducing the target to nothing but wooden splinters. Seraphina clapped loudly. Neville turned to
grin at her.

‘Good job,’ Harry said. ‘Now again.’

The target reformed and practice continued.

Hermione shared a smile with Seraphina.

‘You really like him, don’t you.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘I do,’ Seraphina replied, grinning ear to ear.

‘It’s nice to know,’ Hermione said. ‘Neville really deserves it.’

‘He does,’ Seraphina agreed.

‘Make sure you treat him well,’ Hermione said, only a little seriously. ‘I don’t know anyone who
doesn’t love Neville. We’re all watching you.’ Hermione’s smile softened the words.

‘You have nothing to worry about,’ Seraphina assured her. ‘I would never do anything to hurt
Neville. I adore him. I just wish…’

‘What?’

‘It’s nothing,’ Seraphina said dismissively.

‘No, really, what?’ Hermione pressed.

Seraphina sighed. ‘I just wish he felt the same way,’ she admitted.

‘Are you kidding?’ Hermione shook her head in bemusement. ‘Seraphina, Neville cares deeply about
you. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he likes me,’ Seraphina ceded, ‘but it’s not the same as the way I like him. I
love him Hermione. I know it sounds dumb, we haven’t known each other that long, but I really do. I
never used to believe in love at first sight until I met Neville. The first time I saw him, I knew
I would never love anyone as much as I love him. He’s my soul mate. Don’t you feel that way about
Harry?’

‘This isn’t about Harry and me,’ Hermione said. ‘What makes you think Neville doesn’t love
you?’

‘Because he loves… loved Ginny,’ Seraphina finally declared. ‘He cared about Ginny the way I
care about him. She was his soul mate.’

‘Okay, I’ll admit that Neville liked Ginny, but what makes you think he loved her?’

‘Because…’ Seraphina stalled, trying to find the right words. ‘Because he was angry.’

‘Of course he was angry,’ Hermione said, confused.

‘He was never that angry when she tried… when they attacked me. It sounds horrible, I know, but
he was so angry when they killed her.’

‘And you think that means he loved her more than you?’

‘Don’t you?’

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually, she
had to admit defeat, and closed her mouth.

‘Exactly,’ Seraphina said simply.

‘I might not be able to find the words to contradict you, but that doesn’t mean they don’t
exist. I think you’re overreacting. You underestimate how much Neville does care about you. I hope
someday you’ll finally see that.’

‘I wish you were right. I really do.’

They went back to watching their respective boyfriends for a while. Harry was trying to teach
Neville a new spell, and judging from the way Neville was sweating, it was a complex one.

‘You never answered my question,’ Seraphina pointed out.

‘What question was that?’

‘Do you think Harry is your soul mate? Did you love him at first sight?’

‘I was eleven when I first saw Harry,’ Hermione told her dryly.

‘So?’

‘No,’ Hermione said. ‘It wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, I thought he was kind of a jerk.
He was a little mean. Well, actually, Draco was mean. Harry was just… there. He didn’t step in and
speak up for me. And after that, I only saw him sporadically. Harry has a way of deflecting
attention from himself. Considering his fame, it’s quite amazing.’

‘You really didn’t love him then?’

‘Well,’ Hermione said thoughtfully, ‘love isn’t the word. I guess I did sort of have a crush on
him. Most girls did. I’d read about him before I even met him. Hero worship would probably be the
words I’d use to describe it. Though I’d never admit to being so shallow at the time.’

‘And then when you started dating?’

‘One day I just woke up and I knew I loved him.’

‘And he loves you, right?’

‘Of course,’ Hermione said.

‘Are you getting married?’

If Hermione had been drinking, she imagined, at that moment, as cliché as it sounds, she might
have spat her drink out. ‘What makes you ask that?’

‘Well, you’re in love, and that’s the natural thing to do right?’

‘Well, yeah, but…’

‘I think about getting married all the time,’ Seraphina said. ‘Before Neville, it was some
mysterious shadowy gentleman, but now all I see is him. The idea of being Seraphina Longbottom
makes my whole body tingle and I just wanna scream out in happiness. Don’t you want to get
married?’

Hermione blushed a little. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I guess I do.’

‘With Harry?’

‘Of course with Harry, but it’ll never happen.’

‘Why?’ Seraphina asked.

‘Harry will never ask me,’ Hermione said, ‘and I won’t ask him.’

‘Why won’t he ask?’

‘Because he hates stuff like that. Being in the spotlight and all.’

‘But doesn’t he care about what you want?’

‘I don’t mind,’ Hermione argued. ‘I’d like to get married, but it’s not the most important thing
in the world. As long as I know he loves me, and we can be together, I can live without it.’

‘That’s really sad,’ Seraphina said softly, sympathetically.

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’m happy,’ she said, ‘and that’s all that counts.’

‘If you truly are happy, then I guess you’re right.’

‘I am,’ Hermione assured her, but even as she said it, she realised she wasn’t being entirely
honest. She was happy, but not *truly* happy. A dull pang made itself known in her heart. It
wouldn’t go away.

‘You’ve been quiet tonight.’

Hermione looked up at Harry in response. They were sitting in the Head’s common room, Harry in
one of the armchairs before the fire, Hermione on the floor, leaning back against his legs.

‘Sorry,’ she replied, ‘I’ve just got something on my mind.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘No,’ Hermione said softly, ‘it’s something I have to figure out myself.’ She went back to
gazing into the blazing fire.

Harry frowned at her, but didn’t press the issue. ‘Okay.’ When she made no move to continue the
conversation, Harry found himself searching for a topic. He finally settled on, ‘how’s your dad
doing?’

‘Oh, he’s… the same.’

‘They haven’t figured out what Voldemort did to him yet?’

‘No,’ Hermione said sadly. ‘Madam Pomfrey is hopeful they will eventually. It’s just a matter of
trial and error. But even when they do figure it out, they might not be able to cure it.’

‘I’m sure they’ll do their best for him,’ Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

Hermione hummed in agreement, then quickly changed the subject. ‘How’s Draco? Still locked away
in Slytherin’s chamber?’

‘Last I checked,’ Harry replied.

‘What’s he doing in there?’ Hermione scowled in frustration. ‘He can’t avoid life forever. You
should stop bringing him food. Force him to come out.’

‘Like I said, he’ll come out when he’s ready. I’m not going to force him.’

‘It’s not good for him,’ Hermione said.

‘It’s his decision,’ Harry argued. ‘I won’t make it for him.’

‘Don’t you care? He’s obviously in serious pain. He needs to be comforted by friends and… well…
I’d say family, but you know. I just want to help him. He’s my friend as well.’

‘You know Draco. He’ll get through this himself. Like always.’

‘Why do you both have to be so solitary?’ Hermione asked with a pout. ‘It’s like you don’t need
me at all.’

Harry sat up and threaded his hand into her hair gently. ‘That’s not true,’ he contradicted her,
‘at least, not as far as I’m concerned. I do need you and I’ll always need you. Draco’s just…
Draco.’

‘Yeah.’ Hermione sighed. ‘Stupid prat.’

‘No argument here.’

‘But you’d tell me if he was in trouble, wouldn’t you? If he was doing anything dangerous,
right?’

‘Of course,’ Harry said quickly.

‘Harry,’ Hermione moved to sit up on her knees and face him, ‘he’s not… reading Slytherin’s Dark
Arts books, is he?’

Harry looked into her eyes. ‘Not to my knowledge.’




‘Have you even taken a break since I was last here?’ Harry placed a plate of toast down on the
table in front of Draco. Draco didn’t even take his eyes of the page he was reading.

‘Nope.’

‘Reading so much,’ Harry said, taking a seat across from his best friend, ‘it can’t be
healthy.’

‘I don’t care.’ Draco’s voice was flat and dull – no trace of his usual drawl.

‘Hermione is worried about you,’ Harry went on. ‘She’s afraid you’re reading Slytherin’s Dark
Arts books.’

Draco finally looked up, glancing over the top of the current volume in his hands. ‘What did you
tell her?’

‘I lied.’

Draco closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, he said, ‘thanks.’

‘You know it’s not my style to judge. I don’t know what I’d have done if it’d been Hermione
instead of Ginny.’

‘But?’

‘But, she’s right,’ Harry said. ‘Reading them… it’s dangerous.’

‘So why don’t you stop me?’

‘I’ve read them,’ Harry pointed out. ‘If I tried to stop you I’d just be a hypocrite. Besides,
I’ve found that those who’ve been a victim of the Dark Arts carry a certain amount of protection
against them. Hermione wouldn’t understand that.’

‘So?’

‘So just be careful,’ Harry finished.

‘I am.’

‘And Draco?’

‘What?’

‘Maybe you could show your face a little around Hogwarts,’ Harry answered. ‘It’d make Hermione
feel better.’

Draco turned his eyes back to the page. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Harry got to his feet. ‘Thanks.’ He once again left Draco alone in the chamber with his
books.

When Harry returned from Slytherin’s chamber, he found Hermione already in bed. He closed the
door to her room softly, crossed to his side of the bed, undressed, and slipped in beside her. She
must have been waiting for him, because she turned instantly to cuddle up beside him. He wrapped
his arms around her and pulled her close.

‘Did you speak to Draco?’ she murmured sleepily.

‘Yeah,’ Harry replied in a whisper. ‘Don’t know if it’ll do any good.’

‘As long as you tried.’

‘I did.’

They lay in silence for a while.

‘Do you ever think about after?’ Hermione asked.

‘After?’

‘After you beat Voldemort.’

‘…No.’

‘Not ever?’

‘Do you?’

‘All the time,’ Hermione said.

‘And?’

‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Just silly fantasies.’

Harry kissed her hair. ‘About me, I hope.’

Hermione giggled. ‘Honestly Harry, don’t be silly.’ He looked down at her, awaiting her answer.
She smiled up at him sweetly. ‘Of course about you.’

‘So?’

Hermione blushed a little. ‘You really want to know?’ He continued to look at her expectantly.
It was all the answer she needed. ‘We live together in a nice house out in the middle of nowhere.
We have a nice quiet life. Out of the public eye. I always fancied us owning a nice little Muggle
sweet shop or something like that.’

‘Really?’ Harry was surprised.

‘Yeah, why not?’

‘I thought you wanted to work for the Ministry?’

‘I used to,’ Hermione said, ‘but after the way they’ve treated you, I just don’t want to
anymore. Actually, I’ve grown a little tired of the wizarding world. It’d be nice to get away from
it all. Move someplace where we can just be Harry and Hermione.’

‘Oh.’

‘You don’t want to?’

‘I never said that.’ Harry pulled her tighter, closer. ‘Continue.’

‘Erm,’ Hermione paused to get her bearings back, then went on, timidly now, ‘I’d like to have
children. Not right away of course, but eventually. When we’re both ready for it.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can I get a little more than just a “hmm” please?’

Harry laughed and leaned down to kiss her hair again. ‘I’ve never put any kind of thought into
this Hermione,’ he said. ‘I’ve kinda just been living my life as it comes. The future has never
been a certainty for me. Don’t get me wrong, I have no intention of dying, but… it could
happen.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Sorry,’ Harry said. ‘Anyway, as much as I haven’t put thought into it, what you said… it
sounds… really… *nice*.’

‘It does? All of it?’

‘Every bit.’

‘Oh *Harry*.’ Hermione brought his face down to meet hers. She kissed him hard on the
mouth, pouring all her love into it. ‘I love you.’

‘I know.’

‘We’ll do it. Won’t we?’

‘We will.’

Hermione laid her head down on Harry’s chest and closed her eyes in content.

‘I talked with Seraphina earlier,’ she said, still with her eyes closed.

‘And?’

‘She’s a nice girl. Perfect for Neville. She just… for some reason, she has this really low
opinion of herself.’

‘Hmm?’

‘She seems to think Neville doesn’t love her.’

‘Why?’

‘Because… this sounds crazy, but it’s what she said… because he didn’t get angry when the Death
Eaters attacked her.’

Harry couldn’t help himself – he laughed loudly.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

‘Sorry,’ Harry said, ‘I just think its funny, that’s all. She’s wrong. Neville was very angry.’
*So angry he almost destroyed Hogwarts*, Harry thought to himself.

‘He was?’

‘Oh yeah.’

‘She doesn’t know?’

‘Evidently.’

Hermione was silent in thought for about five seconds before she spoke again. ‘You should tell
her.’

‘Why me? I’ve never even spoken to the girl before.’

‘Because it would mean more coming from you,’ Hermione tried to reason with him. ‘You were the
only one there to see how angry he got. Only you can make her believe it. She’ll probably just
think I’m making it up to make her feel better.’

‘She’s that convinced?’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione said, ‘and it’s weighing on her, I can tell. She feels like second best, and no
one should have to feel like that.’

‘I don’t know Hermione. Comforting people isn’t my thing. I doubt I can make her believe.’

‘But you’ll try? For me?’

Harry sighed. ‘Knew you’d play that card.’

Hermione looked up to give him a cheeky grin. ‘That’s a yes then?’

He couldn’t help but smile back at her, even as he shook his head in defeat. ‘That’s a yes. I’ll
*try*.’

‘That’s all I ask.’ Hermione gave him another kiss to placate him. ‘Does that make you feel
better?’

‘It’s going to take more than a kiss to make me feel better,’ he grumped playfully.

‘Oh *really*.’ Hermione raised her eyebrows saucily.

‘Yup.’ Harry suddenly rolled over, on top of her, so that he straddled her waist.

‘Well, if that’s what it’ll take,’ Hermione said, acting resigned, ‘a woman has to do what a
woman has to do. Have your way with me sir. If you must.’

Harry did.



35. Chapter Thirty-Five
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter; it belongs to JK Rowling, etc etc.
Harry Potter and the Year of Discord Chapter Thirty-Five
Sensing a presence besides that of Hermione, Harry awoke from his slumber.

He disentangled himself from Hermione’s relaxed grip and sat up in bed. A shadow was standing
across from him. He grabbed his wand from under his pillow and was about to curse the hell out of
the intruder when he stepped forward and revealed himself.

‘Quietly Harry,’ Dumbledore said, ‘we have business to attend.’

Harry relaxed slightly. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked softly, so as not to awaken his
sleeping girlfriend.

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to follow him out into the common room, and then stepped out to
let him get dressed. Harry let out a frustrated breath, before getting out of bed, quickly
dressing, and following his mentor.

Hermione rolled over in her sleep, but remained unconscious.

Harry closed the door quietly behind him. ‘What are you doing here?’ he repeated, a little
louder this time.

‘As I said,’ Dumbledore replied, ‘we have business to attend.’

‘Spit it out already,’ Harry growled impatiently.

‘Members of the Order of the Phoenix have a special way of communicating. Not long ago I
received an urgent message for assistance.’

‘And?’ Harry prompted.

‘The message was from Mundungus Fletcher.’

Mundungus Fletcher. Slytherin’s Locket.

‘I’ll get my wand.’

‘I thought you might.’




Two softly muffled *cracks* heralded the arrival of Harry and Dumbledore.

They stood on a hilltop overlooking a Muggle village in the North East of England. The wind
pulled savagely at their robes. Dumbledore ignored this and raised his arm, closing his eyes in
concentration.

‘We’re just outside the Death Eaters Anti-Apparition wards,’ he said over the roar of the wind.
‘Mundungus is down there in that village.’

‘Can you break them?’

‘I can do better,’ Dumbledore replied, opening his eyes and looking at Harry. ‘I’m going to
punch a small hole in them that will allow us to come and go as we please. It should be small
enough so that the Death Eaters won’t even realise until it’s too late. A moment.’

He closed his eyes again. Harry watched impatiently. Finally, Dumbledore opened his eyes, and
smiled.

‘Grab my arm and I will take us to Mundungus’ last known location.’

‘Sure you’re up to it?’ Harry asked, arcing an eyebrow at the older wizard.

Dumbledore very nearly glared. ‘I just don’t want to end up splinched,’ Harry explained.

Dumbledore offered his arm as his answer.

‘I think I’ll just follow you,’ Harry said, thinking better of it.

Dumbledore retracted his arm and without another word, Apparated into the village. Harry
followed a second later.

They stood together in the middle of a debris-strewn room. Over in the corner were the remains
of a Muggle television. It looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the screen. The walls
were strained with black, burnt marks, and the pictures on the walls were crooked, or fallen and
smashed on the floor. Behind them, they took in the broken remains of a bed. The comforter had been
split open and was spilling stuffing, the bed frame cracked down the middle.

‘Looks like he *is* in trouble,’ Harry observed, wandering over to the only window in the
room and peering through the cracked glass.

‘It would appear our dear Mundungus has run afoul of Voldemort’s Death Eaters,’ Dumbledore
commented.

‘I’d say that’s a certainty,’ Harry agreed. Looking out of the upstairs window, he watched as a
squad of three Death Eaters strolled down the deserted street, pointing wands, and obviously
searching for someone. ‘Take a look.’

Dumbledore moved up next to him to do just that. ‘They appear to be searching for
Mundungus.’

‘So where is he?’

‘Judging from the damage in this room,’ Dumbledore said, ‘I think it safe to assume he has moved
on from here. He will be nearby, awaiting our help.’

‘Unless they’ve already found him and he’s dead,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Ah, Harry, ever the pessimist.’

‘It’s a possibility.’

‘Well, as those Death Eaters are still searching, let us assume otherwise,’ Dumbledore
announced, turning from the window. ‘Mundungus will be in this village somewhere. It will be our
job to find him.’ Dumbledore gave Harry a compromising look. ‘Dead or alive.’

They descended the stairs to the ground floor and stealthily exited the deserted house. The
street was devoid of Death Eaters for the moment, so they took the opportunity to look around. All
the houses appeared to be vacant. There was no sign of light save for the few street lamps.

‘Looks like the Muggles have abandoned ship,’ Harry said.

‘So it would appear.’

‘Unless they’re dead,’ Harry added jokingly, glancing at Dumbledore.

The old wizard allowed a smile small. ‘We’ll assume otherwise on that as well.’

‘Well, it’ll make our job easier. Pick a direction?’

Dumbledore pointed and they set off that way, down the street, staying close to cover. Tall
trees lined the street on either side, so it was easy for them to move from tree to tree and stay
relatively hidden. They hadn’t gone far when Harry reached out and gripped Dumbledore’s robes.

‘You feel that?’

Dumbledore’s face became instantly grave. ‘Indeed I do.’

‘Dementors.’

‘This way Harry,’ Dumbledore said, leading him up the path to another small house. The door was
open, so they let themselves in. Harry shut the door behind him and sealed it with a locking spell.
‘That won’t stop them.’

‘I know,’ Harry said, ‘but it’ll slow them down.’

They moved into the next room and ducked down below the windowsill. They could just about see
over the top, and watched as another squad of Death Eaters bore down on them. This one consisted of
two wizards and one Dementor.

‘Looks like they’re using the Dementors to search for Fletcher,’ Harry theorized. Even as he
said the words, the Dementor stopped outside the house they currently hidden within and turned its
robed head towards them. ‘And, incidentally, *us*. Wonderful.’

The Dementor began its gliding way up the path towards the house, followed shortly by the two
Death Eaters. ‘Harry,’ Dumbledore said, getting his attention, ‘you banish the Dementor. I will
deal with those others.’

>‘Sure you can handle them?’ Harry asked.

‘I am Albus Dumbledore,’ he replied sharply, ‘not some cripple.’

‘Fair enough.’ Harry glanced around quickly. ‘We’ve got the defensible position, so let’s take
the fight to them. Ready?’

‘I am ready.’

‘Alright.’

Harry suddenly got to his feet and pointed his wand at the window.

‘*Reducto!*’ The window before him shattered and sent flying shards of glass out at the
Death Eaters and the Dementor. The Dementor was unaffected, but the Death Eaters had to fling
themselves to the ground to avoid being struck. The Dementor moved on unafraid, closing in on them
rapidly. Harry gripped his wand firmly and thought of Hermione’s face. ‘*Expecto
Patronum*!’

The Dementor was almost upon Harry when his silvery stag burst to life and slammed into it. It
was like watching someone get run over by a bike. The Dementor was trammelled underfoot and left
reeling on the ground only long enough for the stag to turn and ram it one more time. The Dementor
didn’t stick around for much more punishment.

In the time it took for Harry’s Patronus to do its job, Dumbledore had already immobilised his
opponents, and was in the process of magically tying them up. Harry jumped through the now broken
window and wandered over to where Dumbledore now stood.

‘You didn’t kill them?’

‘I would prefer not to,’ Dumbledore replied, finishing the job, and kneeling between the two
unconscious Death Eaters. He made sure to touch both of them with his stumped arms. ‘Back in a
jiffy.’

Dumbledore and his two captives disappeared. Harry examined his shoes for a moment, until
Dumbledore magically appeared at his side once again, sans captives.

‘There,’ Dumbledore said, ‘now we can proceed with our search.’

‘I’m assuming you delivered them to your European friend – the one with the nice prison?’

‘You assume correctly,’ Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye.

If Harry wasn’t mistaken, he thought Dumbledore might just be enjoying this a little.

They hadn’t gone much further when an explosion rocked the village. It came from a few streets
over, lighting up the night with a brilliant orange glow. Multi-coloured lights shot into the air
as some kind of battle ensued.

Harry and Dumbledore exchanged a quick look before dashing towards the scene of commotion. When
Dumbledore lagged behind, Harry turned as he ran, and called back, ‘I’ll go on ahead! Catch
up!’

That being said, and ignoring Dumbledore’s protests, Harry picked up speed. He ran up the lawn
of one of the houses and then down the side of the house. A fence blocked his way, but he easily
vaulted over it. He crossed the next street without incident.

Now crouched behind the bins of the latest house, he looked across the street at the ruins of
its neighbour. A huge hole had been blown in its side, explaining the explosion, and the house’s
upper floor leaned precariously. In the street, a gang of four Death Eaters stood firing spells up
at the exposed upper floor, where Harry just about spotted Mundungus seeking cover behind a bed
that was thankfully lodged against the wall.

He was in trouble. One of the Death Eaters, evidently smarter than the others, began firing
destructive spells at the house, further weakening its structural integrity. Harry had to act
quickly if he was to save the renegade member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Getting to his feet, Harry aimed his wand towards the Death Eater.

‘*Humus sepulchrum!*’

Before the Death Eaters even knew what was happening, the street around them cracked in a huge
circle, and earth rose up to enclose them in a dome like coffin. It would only hold them for so
long.

Harry ran into the street. ‘Fletcher, get your ass down here quick!’

Mundungus peered out from behind the bed and looked down on him, eyes going wide. ‘’Arry
Potter?’

‘No, it’s the tooth fairy, *hurry up!*’

‘What? Tooth – oh!’ Mundungus practically slid his way over to the edge, before dropping to the
ground. He ran over to Harry, stopped with his hands on his knees, panting, and asked, ‘Dumbledore
sent you?’

Harry was about to answer when the dome of earth behind Mundungus exploded outwards, showering
them with clumps of mud. Harry inserted himself between Mundungus and the Death Eaters.

‘Stay low,’ Harry said, and once again brandishing his wand, he performed another complex
transfiguration spell. This time, all of the broken up earth shifted and rose in flight, now as a
legion of large bats. The bats flew into the air and then came back down, aiming at the Death
Eaters, who broke apart and ran in all directions. Some fired spells, attempting to fight the bats
off, but the sheer number of them soon overwhelmed them. ‘Come on.’

Harry grabbed Mundungus by the scruff of his neck and dragged him along as he ran back the way
he had come. They met Dumbledore halfway. The aged wizard looked first at Mundungus, who cowered
before the disappointment in Dumbledore’s eyes.

‘You’ve caused us more trouble than you realise.’

Mundungus went to reply, but Harry didn’t let him.

‘We can catch up later,’ he said. ‘Right now, I think we’d best vacate the area before more
Death Eaters arrive. They no doubt saw that explosion as well.’

‘Quite right Harry,’ Dumbledore agreed.

‘’Ow…?’ Mundungus went to ask, but his words were cut short as Harry and Dumbledore Apparated
away, Harry bringing the shady wizard along with him.

As they arrived back outside the gates of Hogwarts, Mundungus continued, as if uninterrupted,
‘…are we sup – Oh.’ He looked around in surprise.

‘Let’s get inside,’ Dumbledore announced, and proceeded to wave his arm before the gates, which
moved aside by his command. Harry forced a reluctant Mundungus to follow as they were led all the
way up the Headmaster’s office.

‘Sit down,’ Harry said, shoving Mundungus into the nearest chair.

Dumbledore took his usual seat and stared across his desk. Mundungus withered under his stare,
cast a nervous glance back at Harry, who loomed over his shoulder, and then returned his gaze to
Dumbledore.

‘As I said,’ the Headmaster began, ‘your actions have caused us a great deal of trouble, and
certainly more than you realise. I know, in your heart, that you hold no love for Voldemort.
However, your actions have prolonged his life, and caused a great deal of misery to others.
Unwittingly, I am sure. You know of what I speak?’

‘Erm,’ Mundungus hemmed anxiously. ‘The locket?’

‘Maybe you do have a brain,’ Harry said, flicking the back of Mundungus’ head. ‘At least a
little one.’

‘Harry,’ Dumbledore chastised.

Harry nodded his head, a silent promise that he wouldn’t gaud the other wizard, or mock him,
anymore.

Mundungus cast another fearful glance at Harry. After seeing the young wizard take on four Death
Eaters without breaking a sweat, he was certainly afraid of him.

‘While you cannot undo what has already been done,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘you can, however,
help stop further atrocities.’

‘’Ere!’ Mundungus leaped to his feet, rifling in his long overcoat, before producing the locket
in question and throwing it on the desk before Dumbledore. ‘You can ‘ave it! It’s caused me nothing
but trouble! Whatever it is – I don’t want to know – I just want shut of it!’

He attempted to leave, but Harry got in his way. Behind them, Dumbledore spoke, ‘before you
go.’

Mundungus turned to look at him questioningly.

‘Ease an old man’s curiosity and tell me, why were the Death Eaters pursuing you?’

‘What d’you think!’ Mundungus gestured at the locket angrily. ‘That! I… you know I… borrowed a
few things from Sirius’ ‘ouse - ’

‘Stole,’ Harry corrected.

‘ – and that thing was one of ‘em. I didn’t like it. It made me feel uneasy just looking at it.
So I left it alone. But then times got ‘ard. I knew I couldn’t return to the Order. So I tried to
pawn it. I took it to Knockturn Alley – where else to sell something so obviously dark – and then
the next thing I know I’m being chased by Death Eaters! Someone must ‘ave tipped ‘em off that I was
sellin’ it. You-Know-Oo – ‘e must want that thing – and I don’t care why – but ‘e wants it badly.
They chased me for over a week. I managed to avoid ‘em, but then… well, you know what ‘appened
then. I was trapped. I ‘ad to summon you.’

‘He knows what we’re doing,’ Harry said to Dumbledore, ‘so he was trying to gather the only one
left besides Nagini.’

‘So it would appear.’

‘Can I go? I don’t care for this business,’ Mundungus said uneasily.

‘You can go,’ Dumbledore granted.

Mundungus didn’t waste time rushing from the office, leaving the door wide open.

‘That guy’s a real sleaze,’ Harry remarked disdainfully.

‘I must agree. Now then,’ Dumbledore pointed a stub at the locket, ‘how do we proceed?’

‘I’ll do it.’

‘Harry…’

‘My magic will protect me,’ Harry said surely.

‘I would prefer a less risky course of action.’

‘Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that,’ Harry argued. ‘You might want to leave the
room.’

Dumbledore looked long and hard at Harry, who stood before his gaze, resolved. Finally, with a
deep, tired sigh, Dumbledore walked towards the open door. He stopped in the entrance. ‘Go
carefully. Good luck.’

Harry nodded his thanks, and as Dumbledore left, the door shutting behind him, Harry reached for
the sword of Gryffindor.



36. Chapter Thirty-Six
----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks that I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

**A/N:** Well, here’s the next chapter. My computer is still fucked, so again, updates will
be considerably slower. I’m actually surprised at how fast I got this one done. Read and enjoy (I
hope!).
**Harry Potter and the Year of Discord**
Chapter Thirty-Six

The Room of Requirement was once again transformed into a magical training dojo for Harry and
company, with only Draco absent from the team. Seraphina sat on the sidelines as usual, watching as
Hermione, Neville, Ron and Luna practised spells against their wooden counterparts. This time Harry
had made it more difficult by instructing the targets to move around the room, thus simulating a
battle scenario. This meant that not only did they have to hit their targets, but they also had to
worry about not hitting their teammates.

Harry lingered around the edges, calling out tips and general instructions when needed, which,
to his satisfaction, wasn’t often. His team was coming along nicely. Neville was especially
impressive, but that might have more to with his lessons with Professor Oniki, not to mention the
special private training Harry had been giving him. His progress was amazing, as Harry had begun to
instruct him in the difficult (and nearly impossible for most wizards and witches) art of advanced
transfiguration, which he himself had learned from Dumbledore.

They had been training for nearly one hour now. Every now and then, during a lull in the
simulated combat, Hermione would look over at him pointedly, then jerk her chin towards Seraphina.
Harry knew what she wanted, but he really didn’t want to talk to the young girl about her love life
with Neville. It just wasn’t something that Harry *did*. However, he had promised, and
Hermione was insistent.

After the umpteenth impatient gesture from Hermione, Harry gave in with a sigh. He went to sit
by Seraphina, who didn’t even glance his direction, her eyes locked almost obsessively on
Neville.

Harry cleared his throat. ‘Hey,’ he said, the word sounding so fake to his ears.

‘Hi,’ Seraphina replied politely, seemingly unaware of the oddness of the situation, her eyes
glancing briefly at his face before finding Neville again.

Harry searched for words. He hated forced conversation. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good, and you?’ She looked at him properly for the first time, sensing this wasn’t an
offhand pleasantry, and that he actually wanted to speak with her about something.

Harry cleared his throat again. ‘Fine.’ *Except that I’m here, having to talk to you, of
course,* he thought to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Seraphina - she certainly seemed
like a nice enough girl. It wasn’t even that he had to talk to her. It was what he had to talk to
her *about* that bothered him.

‘I think this is the first time we’re ever really talked, isn’t it,’ Seraphina observed sweetly,
smiling at him. ‘Neville admires you a lot you know.’

‘He’s stupid like that,’ Harry said under his breath, but Seraphina heard him all the same.

‘What makes you think he’s stupid to admire you?’

‘Never mind that.’ Harry changed the subject. ‘I actually want… there’s something you should
know.’

‘There is?’

‘I’m only going to say it once, so listen up.’

‘I’m all ears,’ Seraphina replied, her attention focused fully on Harry now, rapt.

‘When the Death Eaters attacked you and Neville,’ Harry said, momentarily pausing to find the
right words. ‘When they attacked you, Neville went berserk. He’s powerful. And his power correlated
directly with his anger. He was so angry he managed to deflect two Killing Curses with only his raw
power. He didn’t even have his wand on him. He didn’t need it. Do you understand?’

Seraphina had since lowered her head as Harry spoke. Tears came to her eyes. She wiped them away
with the back of her hand and nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Good.’ Harry stood up. ‘That’s all I had to say.’

Seraphina sniffed. ‘Thanks,’ she repeated.

Harry made a dismissive noise and walked away, back to watch the rest of the training
session.




That night, Harry was on his way to meet with Dumbledore, when he bumped into Mrs. Granger. He
had just been down to see Draco, and was coming up from the dungeons when he saw her crossing the
Entrance Hall. She stopped when she saw him and gave him a warm smile.

‘Hello there Harry,’ she called.

‘Hi,’ he replied, coming up next to her. ‘Going somewhere?’

‘I was just going for a walk,’ she said easily, ‘stretching my legs. Alan’s asleep right
now.’

‘Hogwarts can be a confusing place at first, so make sure you don’t get lost.’

‘I can see that, but I think I’ll be fine. I’ve always had a good sense of direction. Are you
going to see Hermione?’

Harry erred, slightly uncomfortable. He wasn’t entirely sure if Hermione’s parents knew they
slept together every night or not, and even if they did, he certainly didn’t want to talk to them
about it. ‘I thought I might,’ he finally settled on. It was ambiguous enough to cover all the
bases.

‘She really cares for you,’ Mrs. Granger said. ‘It’s sweet.’

‘Yeah.’

They reached the second floor. Mrs. Granger reached out and touched Harry’s arm, pulling him to
a stop. She continued to smile at him. ‘I think it’s really great how nice you are to her.’

Harry frowned. ‘Okay?’

‘But,’ Mrs. Granger eased towards him, ‘surely you’re tiring of her? She’s just a little girl.
No matter how much you care for her, she can’t show you real pleasure. For that, you need a grown
woman.’

Harry backed up until he hit the wall. Mrs. Granger followed him. She ran her hands up and down
his arms.

‘Uh.’ Harry held up his hands, trying to warn her off, but she didn’t pay any heed. ‘Look, Mrs.
Granger…’

‘Jane,’ she corrected him, smiling seductively.

‘Mrs. Granger,’ Harry repeated, ‘this… I don’t know… shit…’

‘Shh.’ She pressed a finger to his lips. ‘No need to speak. Have I told you how grateful I am
that you saved my life?’

Harry clenched his fists. He didn’t know what to do. Mrs. Granger never seemed to hate him the
way Mr. Granger did. She had always been kind to him, especially since he had rescued her from
Voldemort, but this was going way past kind and into something he didn’t want to even think
about.

‘I haven’t, have I?’ She suddenly gripped his face between her hands. ‘Oh well. I’d rather show
you.’

And then she kissed him. Harry wasn’t sure how long their lips remained plastered together, but
he wasn’t exactly counting. As soon as he was able to, he forcibly shoved her away. She laughed,
trill-like, and smirked at him.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Harry snarled, furiously wiping his lips.

‘Oh come now Harry,’ she said, still giggling, ‘surely you know what a kiss is. My daughter
isn’t that inadequate, is she?’

Harry narrowed his eyes, his heart suddenly racing. ‘Who are you?’ he growled.

‘Don’t play silly now,’ she chastised him, ‘you know who I am. You don’t need to hide your
feelings either. It’s okay to want more.’

‘I’m not buying it,’ Harry said.

‘I could say the same for you. I’m no fool. My husband hasn’t satisfied me for years. Ever since
we first met, I’ve been imagining you, only you, a young strong bull who could fuck me like I
deserve. And I know you’ve thought about it too.’

‘Stop it.’ Harry drew his wand. ‘Say another word with her mouth and I’ll stun you.’

‘Oh, you’re no fun,’ she simpered, pouting.

Harry raised his wand. ‘I’m warning you.’

‘All bark, no bite.’

Harry opened his mouth again, maybe to warn her, or maybe to finally fulfil his promise, but the
words never left his mouth. A bright red light slammed into him. He crumpled to the floor.

Mrs. Granger, or the person posing as her, turned to sulkily glare at her partner. ‘Why’d you do
that? I was just starting to have some fun.’

‘We’re not here so you can fuck with Potter,’ “Mr. Granger” replied, his eyes no longer clouded
over with blindness.

‘Actually, I rather had in mind that he’d be the one fucking me,’ she said, ‘but oh, for a
Slytherin, he’s just so damn loyal. Wonder what he sees in that Mudblood.’

‘Who cares?’ “Mr. Granger” pointed his wand at Harry’s slumped over form. ‘Let’s just get out of
here before anyone catches us.’




The moonlight shone into the small clearing in the Forbidden Forest, bathing the young couple in
luminous light.

Luna lay curled up in a ball, with her head resting on Ron’s bare chest. He was stretched out,
his eyes closed, one hand playing softly with her hair. Grass grew up around them. The branches
above them swung gently in the wind, with the shinning moon creating a light show against their
bodies.

‘Don’t you ever get scared in here?’ Ron asked, out of the blue.

‘Why would I?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ron idled for a moment. ‘You hear stories, you know. About the Forest. Monsters.
Werewolves. Nasty tendril things. Giant spiders.’ He shuddered. ‘I mean, it’s forbidden for a
reason, isn’t it?’

Luna giggled. ‘Those are only deep in the Forest silly.’

‘Oh.’

‘I like it in here,’ Luna said quietly. ‘It’s more magical than any other place I’ve been. When
I’m here, it’s almost as if I’m in the past.’

‘The past?’

‘When the world was truly magical,’ Luna answered. ‘When we didn’t have to hide. When the world
was full of wondrous magic even our kind has forgotten.’

‘Magic even we’ve forgotten?’ Ron usually hated having to ask questions (it made him feel
stupid), but he didn’t mind with Luna. She never made him feel stupid.

‘Think about it. I know what people say about me, because I believe in things they don’t. Things
they can’t believe in because they can’t see. They can’t even consider other avenues of magic. It
has become commonplace for them. It’s no longer magical.’

‘I guess that’s true,’ Ron agreed.

‘But there used to be so much more out there. Things we can’t even imagine anymore. We let it
die. Bit by bit. And now all that’s left is what the few of us who still believe scramble to keep.
Then we’re looked down upon for doing it. For trying to keep magic alive.’

Ron found himself being ashamed, because he had been one of those people. He had thought Luna
was odd, a freak - until she had shown him otherwise.

‘I pity them,’ Luna murmured softly.

‘Thank you for showing me.’

Luna raised herself up to her knees and looked down on him. She smiled. ‘It was my
pleasure.’

Ron propped himself up with his elbows, so that they were face to face. He kissed her sweetly.
She responded with a contented sound and allowed him to bring her down with him as he laid back. He
ran his hands through her hair as they kissed. She clutched at the grass.

‘I love you,’ he whispered into her lips.

Luna beamed. ‘And I love you.’

Some time later, they decided it was about time to head back to Hogwarts. Ron pulled his robes
on as Luna straightened her dress.

‘Ready?’ Ron asked.

Luna nodded, and holding hands, they headed back towards Hogwarts, out of the Forbidden
Forest.

It was as they were waking up towards the entrance of the giant looming castle when Ron spotted
Harry being lead away by the Grangers.

‘What’s going on?’ Ron thought aloud.

‘Who are they?’ Luna asked, following his line of sight.

‘What do you mean? That’s Hermione Granger’s parents. Surely you’ve met them.’

‘No, I certainly have not,’ Luna said firmly.

‘Luna, what is it?’

‘Ronald,’ she said, ‘those people are not Hermione Granger’s parents.’

‘What?’

‘They’re Dark.’

Ron looked suddenly at the two figures leading Harry away from Hogwarts. Harry – who was hanging
motionless between them. ‘Oh bollocks.’

‘I agree.’ Luna pulled out her wand. ‘We have to stop them.’

‘Right.’ Ron grabbed his own wand.

‘Don’t kill them,’ Luna said, taking charge. ‘Stunners only.’

‘Okay.’ Ron easily ceded her command.

Together they rushed silently across the lawn. The fake Grangers had neared the gates of
Hogwarts.

‘Ronald – go that way, sweep around, so that we can take them by surprise from both sides.’

‘Got it.’

Ron branched off to take the long way around and come up on the other side of the fake
Grangers.

In the meantime, the kidnappers had arrived at the gate, and “Mr. Granger” was attempting to
break through the magical locks. “Mrs. Granger” stood by a prone Harry, watching her partner work,
and judging from the way her lips moved, either offering him encouragement (not likely), or
berating him (most likely).

Luna and Ron got into position while the fake Grangers weren’t looking. Luna signalled to Ron
and he nodded in response. They were ready to attack.

*Stupefy!* Luna cast the silent spell at the same time as Ron, though his spell was
vocal.

Luna’s aim was true and the fake Mr. Granger fell to the ground unconscious. Ron’s was on
target, but his shout had given away his presence, and the witch or wizard pretending to be Mrs.
Granger dived to the ground to avoid it. She came up flinging curses in all directions, showing
some pretty impressive wand work.

Luna hit the ground to avoid several curses sent her way and could only hope Ron had done the
same. As soon as she could, she raised her head and pointed her wand for another attack. This time
her stunning spell was deflected, but the fake Mrs. Granger was outnumbered, because Ron had
survived her onslaught, and he sent another stunning spell her way. She managed to block this one
as well, but then she was done for. As soon as Ron had voiced his spell, Luna sent another one her
way, so fast she didn’t have time for another deflection.

The stunner blasted “Mrs. Granger” right in the back and sent her flying.

‘Grab their wands and tie them up,’ Luna called to Ron as she dashed over to Harry.

She knelt by his side and pointed her wand at his face. ‘*Ennervate!*’

Harry blinked and groaned. ‘Ugh.’

‘Harry?’

Ron came to stand behind Luna, the fake Granger’s wands held in his hands. ‘Potter?’

‘Oh shit,’ Harry grunted, sitting up and rubbing his temples. He looked around dazedly.

‘Do you remember what happened?’ Luna enquired.

Harry looked over at the bound Grangers. ‘Yeah,’ he said roughly, ‘I remember. Where’s my
wand?’

Ron shrugged as Luna replied, ‘maybe they took it?’

Harry nodded and got to his feet. He made his way over to the false Grangers and began
searching.

‘So what happened?’

Harry shot Ron a dark look. ‘What d’you think?’

Ron tried his best to ignore Harry’s sarcasm. ‘Luna said they’re dark wizards.’

‘No shit.’ Harry finally found his wand. He stood up, looked down at the unconscious impostors,
and sighed. This didn’t bode well. ‘Weasley, make yourself useful and bring those two.’

‘Where are we going?’

Harry ignored him and started up towards the castle.

‘Prat,’ Ron grumbled.

‘Put yourself in his shoes for a moment,’ Luna said.

‘No thanks, I like my shoes.’

Luna smiled at his joke, but went on to explain. ‘He just found out the Grangers aren’t who they
say they are.’

‘So?’

Luna shook her head and started to follow Harry. ‘Think about it.’

She heard him exclaim, ‘oh!’ and then a few moments later he was following. He’d figured it
out.



37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
------------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

**A/N:** I know, it’s a short one, and I know how much you all hate those, but we’re getting
down to the last few chapters now. I want to get them out as fast as possible and wrap this thing
up. Not that I’m rushing it. I had intended to write more for this (I’ll cover that stuff in the
next chapter) but I felt I’ve been away so long (my computer died), you guys deserve an update.
Also, the first three “chapters” of the history of my Alternate Universe has been posted. Please go
check it out and let me know what you think. Reviews are love. Thanks for being so patient
guys.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord

Chapter Thirty-Seven

‘You don’t have to do this.’

Harry and Hermione stood outside the cell of the fake Grangers, deep in the dungeons of
Hogwarts. The light was dim in the corridor, but brightness shone from the tip of Harry’s wand and
through the small bars on the cell door. Hermione had her arms wrapped in front of her, a sad, but
determined look on her pale face.

‘No, Harry,’ Hermione contradicted, ‘I do have to do this.’

Harry studied her face in the dim light, and then nodded. ‘Okay then,’ he said, wand raised to
unlock the cell door, ‘you ready?’

‘I’m ready.’

Harry unlocked the door with a tap of his wand. It swung open to reveal the false Grangers,
magically bound tightly to a pair of hard wooden chairs in the middle of the cold stone room. “Mr
Granger” glared at them with perfect sight. “Mrs Granger” smiled flirtatiously at Harry.

‘Harry, darling, have you come back for more?’ Fake Mrs Granger cooed.

Harry ignored her, but Hermione was visibly rattled. Fake Mrs Granger turned to smirk at her
“daughter”.

‘Hermione, be a dear will you, us adults need some alone time.’

‘Shut up woman!’ Fake Mr Granger snapped angrily.

‘Don’t be such a *bore*,’ “Mrs Granger” simpered.

‘Are you done?’ Harry asked calmly.

‘Oh, Harry, I can go all night.’ The innuendo was clear.

Harry ignored the comment and asked, ‘who are you?’

They didn’t answer.

‘Who are you?’ Hermione repeated, more forcefully than Harry.

‘We’re your parent’s dear, don’t you remember?’ “Mrs Granger” taunted.

‘Don’t,’ Hermione said, with a pained expression.

Fake Mrs Granger smiled widely, but continued the charade. ‘My poor daughter, your memory must
be failing. You really don’t remember us?’

‘You’re not my parents!’

Fake Mrs Granger and Mr Granger shared a compassionate look, and then started laughing. Harry
pointed his wand at them, the threat clear without words. They stopped laughing, but still
smirked.

‘What happened to my parents?’ Hermione asked. ‘If you’re using Polyjuice potion, they must be
alive somewhere. Tell me!’

‘We’re right in front of you darling.’

‘I said don’t! Just tell me, please,’ Hermione begged.

‘Hermione,’ Harry protested.

The Death Eaters laughed again. Fake Mrs Granger grinned evilly at Hermione. ‘I killed your
spineless Muggle mother myself. She wept for mercy and wet herself in terror.’

Hermione slapped her, the sound echoing harshly in the cell. Fake Mrs Granger caressed her
reddened face and continued to grin mockingly. Hermione bit her lip and then stormed from the
room.

Harry glared at them, wanting so much to kill them right then and there, but knowing he
couldn’t. He went to leave as well, but “Mrs Granger” had more words for him.

‘Oh Harry,’ she sang, ‘where are you going you hunky piece of meat.’

‘Say another word and I’ll cut out your tongue,’ Harry threatened, turning to face her.

She laughed. ‘Ooh, kinky.’

Harry went to leave again.

‘Is it the face? This body?’

Harry paused once again.

‘It doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want it this way,’ she continued.

‘What are you - ’ Harry turned as he spoke, but Mrs Granger was gone. In her place was a
strikingly beautiful blonde haired woman, with voluptuous breasts and long legs. She quirked a thin
arced eyebrow at him seductively.

‘Perhaps this body?’

Her large bust threatened to burst through the much smaller top that had once been worn by Mrs
Granger. She licked her lips at him.

‘No? Then what about this?’ She transformed again, into another breathtakingly beautiful woman,
and then again, on and on, over and over, variations of gorgeous women flashing before his eyes.
‘Come on Harry, you can have whatever you want, and I’ll give it to you baby.’

‘I have what I want,’ Harry declared.

‘What?’ The witch laughed. ‘Her? Okay, if that’s what you really want.’ She morphed again, this
time into Hermione, but her expression was wrong. Hermione could never look that slutty. ‘Here I
am, all ready for you, and I’ll do it all. Every nasty thing in that head of yours.’

Harry shook his head at her. ‘You’re pathetic.’ He slammed and locked the cell behind him,
ignoring her indignant cries.



Later that night, Harry called a meeting in the Great Hall. Everyone at Hogwarts was present,
seated at the four long tables that used to divide them into houses. Dumbledore sat in his usual
seat along with the remaining members of staff. Harry stood before them, facing the assembly.

This wasn’t something Harry was comfortable with. He wasn’t a speaker, let alone a public one.
He was certainly no leader, but this time, with what he had to say, he felt the need to speak up
and be heard.

He cleared his throat, trying to find the words to begin.

‘I’m tired of waiting,’ he said, as loud as he could.

The volume proved unnecessary in the stone silent hall. His words echoed loudly. He cleared his
throat and began again, quieter this time.

‘I’m tired of waiting. That’s all we do. We wait, and wait, just… always waiting. Waiting for
Voldemort to strike. He’s like a snake, and we’re his prey, hiding under a rock, but we can only
hide for so long, and eventually…’ He trailed off. He didn’t need to finish that sentence.

He looked around the hall. Everyone was listening, some even nodding in agreement, while others
still looked at him like they were trying to figure him out. But at least they were listening. He
pushed on.

‘I don’t plan on waiting any longer,’ he said. ‘If we strike first, then maybe we can win.’

‘Maybe!?’ Someone called out indignantly.

A jumble of voices all rose up, some defending Harry, others not. Harry waited for them to quiet
down.

‘Enough!’ Dumbledore shouted out, effectively quieting the hall once again.

Harry nodded his thanks. ‘I’m not a Seer. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I can only
promise you one thing. I’ll fight Voldemort, and I’ll kill him, or die trying.’

‘That’s reassuring.’ The same voice shouted out again sarcastically.

‘Shut up jackass,’ Harry heard Sirius yell.

Harry smiled. He was about to speak when someone else spoke up. A woman.

‘Do you really think you can beat him?’

Harry sighed. He didn’t want this to turn into a discussion about himself. ‘I have no choice.
It’s kill or be killed.’

‘But I don’t get it,’ that same woman called out again. ‘Why? No one has ever answered these
questions. Why didn’t he kill you that night? How did you survive? Why you?’

Harry ran a hand through his hair, getting frustrated now. Dumbledore spoke over the whispers
and hushed conversation that followed the woman’s questioning. ‘None of that matters,’ he said. The
hall fell silent. ‘Harry is the only one that can do it. How or why, it makes no difference.
Continue Harry.’

It didn’t work. ‘But he’s a Slytherin! Everyone knows no good every came from that house! How
can he be the only one?’ It was the first speaker again.

‘As I said,’ Dumbledore said, ‘none of this…’

‘No,’ Harry interrupted, ‘maybe it does matter. It’s okay Dumbledore.’ Harry took a deep breath.
‘I’m in Slytherin because I chose to be. It was my decision and I don’t regret it. As for no good
ever coming out of that house, well, that’s bullshit. There’s good sitting right over there,’ Harry
pointed to Draco, ‘and right there as well,’ he pointed behind him at Horace Slughorn. ‘Dumbledore
would be dead right now if it wasn’t for him. Shit, we’d probably all be dead, and Hogwarts would
belong to Voldemort. So if you think no good ever came out of Slytherin, well then, you’re an
idiot.

‘As for the rest of you, I don’t care if you like me. But you need to trust me. Trust that I
want Voldemort dead more than anyone. Trust that I don’t want anything to happen to this place, the
whole fucking world, but especially to her.’ He pointed at Hermione. ‘So if you can trust me, stay,
but if not, then I guess you need to leave. You can send a thank you card when I save the
world.’

The hall was silent for a very long time. Then, in ones and twos, several wizards and a few
witches got up and trickled out of the room. Harry watched them leave impassively. When they were
gone, he nodded, and resumed his speech.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘I guess we can get down to business now. I plan to strike Voldemort right in
the heart and I want you all to help. The Death Eaters posing as the Grangers both carried rings;
similar to the one I used to escape from Voldemort before. That ring allowed me passage through his
wards. I’m sure the rings the Death Eaters carried will let me through this time as well.

‘Hermione and I will use the rings to Apparate right into Voldemort’s base of operations,
wherever that may be, and then we’ll take down the wards for the rest of you. We’ll use this
charmed pendant,’ here he held up the necklace Draco had made for Ginny, ‘to summon you once that’s
done. Any questions?’

‘How are you going to find You-Know-Who’s Headquarters?’ Ron asked.

‘We have two Death Eaters trussed up in the dungeons,’ Harry said, smiling. ‘I’m sure they’ll
tell us. And if they won’t, I’ll just have Horace here cook us up some Veritaserum.’

‘Oho, already done my boy,’ Slughorn said proudly, sticking out his chest.

Harry smiled. ‘Anymore questions?’ He was greeted by silence. ‘Okay then, I suggest you all
prepare yourselves. Those that want to help can speak to someone who isn’t me. They’ll tell you
what to do.’

With that, the meeting was dismissed, and the gather wizards and witches broke apart to
discuss.

‘Harry?’ Dumbledore indicated he wanted a private word. Harry followed him into one of the
adjoining chambers.

‘What is it?’

‘I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but,’ Dumbledore paused momentarily, ‘are you
sure you’re ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be.’ Harry’s response was instantaneous.

‘And the last Horcrux?’

‘Nagini will be there,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll leave that job up to you. Up for it?’

Dumbledore smiled, a true twinkling of his eyes that Harry hadn’t seem in a long time. ‘I
believe I am.’



38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
------------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

**A/N:** This chapter is a little weird. You’ll see. Hope you enjoy anyway. Reviews are
fuel.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Immediately following the Great Hall meeting, Harry and Dumbledore made their way to visit the
false Grangers. They stood, waiting silently, for the arrival of Horace Slughorn, and the
Veritaserum. The fake Mrs Granger glared murderously at Harry. “Mr Granger” was struggling against
his magical bonds, his efforts futile.

Finally, Slughorn arrived with the truth potion. He handed it to Harry and stood back to
watch.

Harry pulled the cork free of the bottle and approached the more vocal of the two – the witch
posing as Mrs Granger.

‘Going to play nice, or do I have to be rough?’ Harry asked. She continued to glare at him,
death in her eyes. ‘It’s going to happen, whether you like it or not.’

‘Try it,’ she snarled.

He reached for her. She spat at him. Harry took a moment, and then wiped the spittle from his
face. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I guess I’m going to have to force you.’

Before she could react, he grabbed her by the jaw, tipped her head back, and forced the bottle
to her lips. ‘Drink it,’ he commanded. The liquid slid into her throat slowly, but it went in.
Harry took the bottle away and clamped his hand over her mouth. She thrashed in her seat, but
couldn’t escape. Her eyes bore into him with venom. Harry glared back.

‘It’s done Harry,’ Dumbledore announced. ‘You can let her go.’

Harry slowly released her and she gasped for air, choking, trying to vomit up the potion. The
potion began to take effect as her movement stilled. She slumped back into her seat.

‘What is your name?’ Dumbledore asked her.

‘Marlyn Arment,’ she replied dimly.

‘And where is the location of Voldemort’s hideout?’

‘Azkaban.’

Dumbledore and Harry shared a look. Harry nodded. Dumbledore took Horace and left the cell. They
had what they needed. Harry looked back at Marlyn.

‘What happened to the real Grangers?’

She smiled dopily. ‘We killed them.’

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at her. She giggled. His arm shook. He tightened his hand
around the wand, the urge to kill her so powerful. He struggled against it, and then relaxed his
arm. He put the wand away and stuck his face close to Marlyn’s.

‘I’m going to kill Voldemort. I’m going to kill him and anyone who gets in my way. Then Azkaban
will be ours again. And guess where you’re going?’

She lolled her head back in the wooden chair and laughed.



The Weasley family had gathered in the Gryffindor common room.

‘I’m going!’ The youngest Weasley Ron was in the middle of an argument with his mother. ‘You
can’t stop me!’

‘I’m your mother,’ Mrs Weasley said, standing with her hands on her hips.

The Weasley twins Fred and George recognized that stance – they’d been on the other end of it
many times. Right now, they each sat on an arm of a chair, watching the brewing argument with
matching grins.

‘You will listen to me Ronald,’ Mrs Weasley continued stubbornly, ‘I won’t lose anyone else in
this family. I won’t!’

The Weasley twins grins faded, both remembering the death of their father, and the recent loss
of their little sister Ginny.

‘What about the twins!’ Ron shouted back. ‘They’re going. And Charlie and Bill and Percy!’ He
pointed to each of his brothers in turn. ‘It’s okay for them, but not me?’

Mrs Weasley had tears in her eyes. She dashed them away. ‘I won’t let you,’ she said, ‘not you –
you’re my baby.’

Ron growled.

‘Calm down Ron,’ Bill said evenly.

‘No,’ Ron shot back, ‘don’t you hear this? It’s not fair! Just because I’m the youngest now, I
can’t fight for this family?’

Charlie remained silent, sympathizing with his little brother.

‘If Mum says no, then I think you should just do as you’re told,’ Percy added his two cents.

‘You would!’

‘Ronald, don’t talk to your Brother like that.’

‘Whatever. I’ve had enough of this. You can’t stop me.’

With this, ignoring the protests of his mother and Percy, Ron stormed out of the room. Mrs
Weasley let out a sob. Bill took her in his arms. Fred and George shared miserable looks. Charlie
sighed.



Seraphina knocked on Neville’s door quietly. It was late and she didn’t want to face the wrath
of her boyfriend’s infamous Gran. Neville was waiting. He opened the door quickly and slipped out.
He took her hand and led her further down the corridor. When he felt they were far enough away not
to wake his Gran, he stopped.

‘Hi,’ he said, squeezing her hand.

‘You’re going tomorrow aren’t you?’ Seraphina couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.

‘I have to,’ Neville said. ‘Harry will need all the help he can get.’

Seraphina embraced Neville, holding back tears. ‘You’re so brave,’ she whispered in his ear.

‘I try.’

‘I’m not going, Neville.’ Seraphina kissed his hair. ‘I know my strengths and weaknesses, and
I’m no fighter.’

‘I understand. Actually, I’m a little relieved. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened
to you. It’s a cliché, I know, but it’s true.’

Seraphina smiled happily. ‘Neville?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I love you.’

Neville didn’t reply.

‘Neville? Did you hear me?’

‘…Yeah,’ Neville eventually replied, his voice cracking a little on the word.

‘I love you,’ she repeated. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, his very wide and shocked
eyes, and smiled encouragingly at him. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. ‘It’s
okay,’ she said, and kissed him. ‘I love you Neville Longbottom. Come home to me.’

‘O-kay.’



Neville and Seraphina weren’t the only ones sharing a midnight liaison. Ron and Luna sat on the
Hogwarts ramparts, holding hands and watching the Pollot Flies dance. Ron had spent most of the
night ranting and raving about how unfair it was that his mother was treating him like a child.
Luna had listened dutifully, letting him vent, because she knew Ron, and she always knew what he
needed. Finally, he had settled into silence, and Luna had taken hold of his hand to bring him into
her world.

They didn’t need to say anything. All they needed was to be together.



Deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts, locked away in Slytherin’s Chamber, Draco continued to
read.



In the Head Girls dormitory, Harry cradled Hermione as she cried herself to sleep, finally being
able to grieve for her parents.



Morning found them assembled with the voluntary strike force that would seek to at long last
take down Voldemort. It was made up of old valued members of the Order of the Phoenix, such as
Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and their leader, Albus
Dumbledore, amongst others. Along with those, the new generation, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy,
Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and their de-facto leader Harry Potter.

Harry and Hermione stood together, before the assembly.

‘Are you ready Harry?’ Dumbledore asked.

Harry slipped the Death Eater ring on in response. Hermione echoed him.

‘Very well,’ Dumbledore said, ‘good luck.’

Two *cracks* later and the young couple had vanished.



They reappeared in a nearly deserted corridor in Azkaban. I say nearly deserted, because as soon
as they arrived, the two Death Eaters on guard (though surprised) quickly regained their composure.
Spells flew.

Harry instinctively pulled Hermione out of the way and down, firing a curse right through one of
the Death Eaters and blasting him into the wall. The Death Eater curses splattered harmlessly above
them. Hermione disarmed the other quickly.

The disarmed Death Eater stood shocked for a moment, hand still held out as if still clutching
his wand. Harry smiled at him as he stood up and took aim.

‘Wait, please,’ the Death Eater began to plead, but Harry didn’t listen.

‘Stupify!’ The Death Eater collapsed. Harry stood over him; casually flicking his wand to make
sure the wizard was securely bound. He wasn’t going to take any chances. Meanwhile, Hermione found
the Death Eaters wand and snapped it.

‘Alright,’ Harry said, finishing up. ‘Let’s break those wards. Up for it?’

‘I’m ready,’ Hermione said firmly.

With the both of them concentrating, it only took them one minute to poke enough holes in
Voldemort’s wards to effectively nullify them.

‘Signal the others,’ Harry said.

Hermione gripped the necklace around her neck as Harry was opening one of the cell doors,
levitating the unconscious Death Eater into it, and then locking the door behind him with his most
powerful locking charm.

‘Done,’ Hermione announced, and within moments the corridor was crowed with the members of the
Order of the Phoenix, both old and new.

Dumbledore stepped up next to Harry.

‘Well done Harry.’

‘It was easy,’ Harry replied.

‘I’m sure, though I see we had a slight hiccup.’ Dumbledore motioned to the dead Death
Eater.

Harry shrugged. ‘There’s another in that cell.’

‘Dead?’

‘Unconscious.’

‘Good,’ Dumbledore said, ‘I’d like to keep this as clean as possible.’

‘No promises,’ Harry said. ‘Him I didn’t need to kill.’

‘I suppose that is all I can ask.’

‘As much as I’m enjoying this conversation,’ Harry said sarcastically, ‘we aren’t here to
chit-chat. You ready to finish this?’

Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

‘Good. Before I can kill Voldemort, you need to eliminate Nagini. Take Neville, Kingsley,
Mad-Eye, uh, Ron and the other Weasleys.’

‘Luna’s coming with me,’ Ron interceded, gripping Luna by the hand.

‘Sure,’ Harry said, waving him off. ‘I’ll take Hermione, Draco, Sirius, Remus and Tonks. The
rest of you split up and join a group. Dumbledore is after Voldemort’s snake, so be prepared for a
lot of resistance. You all know my target.’

Not surprisingly, most decided to join Dumbledore and Neville.

‘Alright,’ Harry said, blowing air out slowly, ‘I guess that’s that. Good luck.’

The two groups dispersed, going in opposite directions. Dumbledore shared a look with Harry
before turning to lead his group.

‘Hey, Neville,’ Harry called, and Neville hung back. ‘Take care of them all. And make sure that
snake bites the dust. I’m counting on you. Got it?’

Neville nodded. ‘Got it.’

‘Good luck.’

‘Ditto.’

Neville ran to catch up with his group. Harry turned back to face his. He looked at them all,
barely ten wizards and two witches.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.



39. Chapter Thirty Nine
-----------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

**A/N:** Ooh, not long to go now. I’m going to try and get these out as fast as possible
without rushing them, so keep an eye out for updates. Reviews are a writer’s food, and without food
we die. Enjoy.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Neville trailed behind as Dumbledore led them through the wizard prison Azkaban. Harry had given
them specific orders – it was their job to take out the last Horcrux, Voldemort’s large, lethal
snake Nagini. The sword of Gryffindor hung at his waist. Harry said it was the only weapon that
would do the job and he was in charge of it. The responsibility was heavy, just like the sword.

‘You okay?’ Ron asked, dropping back to speak with him quietly. Luna slowed as well.

‘Fine,’ Neville said, gripping the sword by the handle.

‘We’re supposed to kill this snake with that, right?’ Ron gestured to the sword.

‘Yeah.’

‘Looks heavy,’ Ron observed.

‘You want to hold it?’ Neville offered, unclipping the belt from his waist and holding it
out.

‘Seriously?’ Ron nodded, taking the sword. ‘Potter would never let me hold this thing… wow…’

‘I’m not Harry,’ Neville explained. ‘What could it hurt to let you hold it for a while?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Ron agreed, distractedly swinging the sword about. Luna smiled at the sight. He
looked like a little kid with a new toy.

Neville laughed lightly. ‘Careful.’

‘I got it,’ Ron grunted, taking another swing. ‘Man, this really is heavy.’

‘I better take it back,’ Neville said, holding out his hand. ‘Harry gave me this job, and
I…’

But it wasn’t meant to be. A cry from in front took them all by surprise.

‘Death Eaters!’

A green light split the air and a body tumbled. Ron dropped to the ground, still holding the
sword. Luna fell with him. Dumbledore jumped in the way as another jet of green light flew at them…
it was so close… Dumbledore waved his arm… and the Killing Curse was somehow propelled upwards,
missing Dumbledore by mere centimetres.

‘Neville look out!’ Luna yelled.

Neville realised what was about to happen and dived backwards and to the ground just as the
curse hit the stone above him and exploded. Brick and stone fell in on the corridor, caving it in,
and blocking off Neville from the others.

Neville hit his head when he fell and was left dazed for a moment, before he slipped into
unconsciousness.



‘Neville!’ Ron cried on the other side, digging at the crumpled pieces of ceiling.

Dumbledore and the others had long since taken care of the Death Eaters. Now the aged Headmaster
stood at Ron’s back. ‘Mr. Weasley,’ he said patiently, ‘I’m sorry, but we must press on.’

‘What about Neville? We can’t leave him!’ Ron argued, still digging.

‘He may already be dead,’ Dumbledore said gravely.

Ron hung his head and his hands stilled.

‘The ceiling caved in directly above him,’ Dumbledore continued. ‘I’m sorry.’

Ron nodded slowly.

‘We have a job to do,’ Dumbledore said, ‘and Harry is counting on us. You have the sword. Will
you wield it for us in Mr. Longbottom’s stead?’

Ron didn’t say anything. He just got up and fixed the sword and belt around his waist.
Dumbledore nodded in approval and turned back to lead. Ron followed morosely. How many more people
had to die before this ended? He didn’t know Neville that well, but they had been housemates for
seven years, and he’d always liked the quiet boy. They’d shared a dorm! And now he was dead.

Ron felt Luna take his hand. He didn’t need to look to know it was Luna. He could tell just from
the feel of the hand - so dainty and soft and warm. She didn’t say a word, but he got the message.
He clutched at her hand and together they walked on.



Harry led his group with Hermione by his side. At first he had no idea where he was leading
them, but then, slowly, he became aware of a pulling, as if he was being summoned. He felt it in
his scar, tickling his forehead persistently. He knew what it was it.

It was Voldemort.

Voldemort knew they were here and he welcomed it – he wanted Harry to find him, just as much as
Harry wanted to find him. He had to answer the call. It was why he was here, but he couldn’t risk
anyone else. If he was truly to fight and defeat Voldemort, he couldn’t do it with the rest of them
around, getting in the way. The battle would be brutal and destructive. He knew he couldn’t put
Hermione in the middle of it.

Harry stopped suddenly.

‘Harry?’ Hermione asked questioningly, peering into his face.

Harry took a moment, steeled himself, and said, ‘I have to go the rest of the way on my
own.’

‘What?’ Hermione snapped. ‘Are you crazy? No, Harry.’

‘It’s not your decision,’ Harry said, meeting her beseeching eyes. ‘I don’t want you there.’ She
flinched as if struck and looked down. ‘You know why Hermione. I don’t know what’s going to happen
when we get there. I won’t be able to concentrate with you in danger like that.’ She snapped her
head up again, about to argue, but he beat her to it. ‘I know. You don’t need to say it.’

‘Harry,’ Remus said pleadingly. ‘We can help you. I know you’re not one to ask for help, but we
freely give it.’

‘I appreciate that,’ Harry said, ‘but I can’t accept it. The truth of the matter is I know I
won’t be able to beat Voldemort if I have to worry about protecting all of you. It hurts, but it’s
the truth.’

Remus lowered his head.

‘You should have been in Gryffindor kid,’ Sirius said. ‘I’ve never met anyone braver in my life.
Good luck.’

‘No!’ Hermione screeched. ‘No! No! No! Sirius! Remus! How can you let him do this? Don’t you
love him?’

‘Hermione, of course we do,’ Remus said sadly, ‘but you heard him. He’s made up his mind.’

‘And I believe in him,’ Sirius added proudly. ‘He’s going to do it. Don’t worry Hermione. Have
faith.’

Hermione bit her lip and gave Harry a long tortured look. ‘Please…’

‘I’ll go with him,’ Draco said, speaking up for the first time.

Harry was about to protest, but Draco shot him a look, a look that said ‘don’t argue’. Harry
understood. ‘Okay, I suppose that will be fine. Draco can come with me.’

‘I’ll keep him safe Hermione.’

Hermione shook her head, her body and mind racked by indecision.

‘Hermione.’ Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. ‘Draco will be there to watch my
back. It’ll be fine. I’ll come back,’ he promised.

Hermione gave in and nodded. ‘Okay.’

Harry gave her a kiss and stepped back. ‘Take care of her,’ he charged Sirius and Remus.

‘We will,’ Sirius guaranteed.

Harry shared one last look with Hermione. ‘Let’s go,’ he said to Draco.

Draco followed as Harry led the way, leaving Hermione, Sirius and Remus behind. They walked down
several corridors, up one floor, and then down a few more cell lined passages, before Draco finally
spoke. ‘Harry.’

Harry stopped.

‘Good luck,’ Draco said, holding out his hand.

Harry took it and gave it a shake.

‘And you as well.’

Draco nodded and turned to leave.

‘Draco,’ Harry called, getting the retreating wizard to turn around inquiringly. ‘Make him
pay.’

Draco met Harry’s eyes from down the hall. There was no need for words. Draco gave barely a nod
and then left. His eyes said it all.

Revenge burned in them brighter than the sun.

Ron hid himself in the doorway of the cell as the conflict went on around him.

Dumbledore had led them here, following some kind of signal only he could see. Luna explained it
to him patiently. They where heading for a large gathering of magical energy, which Dumbledore
deduced was the location of their target. Ron understood. The energy Dumbledore could sense was the
collection of Death Eaters Voldemort had guarding Nagini.

The trap shouldn’t have surprised them, but it did. As spells began to fly at them from both
sides, Dumbledore’s unit had to seek cover where they could, in the nooks and crannies and the open
cells running the length of the corridor.

At the end of the corridor, they could see the snake Nagini hovering in a protective shell.

He held the sword of Gryffindor in hand and attempted to peer down the hallway. A curse nearly
blasted his face off. He ducked back to avoid it and pressed himself tightly to the wall. Luna
looked at him across the way and mouthed something.

‘I’ll cover you.’ At least, Ron hoped that was what she was trying to tell him. He shook his
head – this was insane. Okay, yeah, they had to kill this snake thingy, which meant he had to reach
it, but how was he supposed to get by all those Death Eaters, even with Luna providing cover fire,
and then, even if he did, he doubted he’d be able to break Voldemort’s protective barrier.

Before he could think anymore, a shape came rushing into his hiding space, followed by a barrage
of spells. The Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt knelt across from him, holding his wand. ‘You have to
reach that snake Weasley. Albus has our rear. Now all we need to do is get you past those Death
Eaters.’ Kingsley indicated the group protecting Nagini.

‘Easier said than done,’ Ron voiced his opinion.

‘True,’ Kingsley admitted, ‘but we have no choice. For Potter to succeed, Nagini must die. The
sword is yours now. You must do it.’

‘But,’ Ron began to protest.

‘Albus told me to tell you that the sword will protect you, if you let it.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

Kingsley smiled grimly. ‘You’re about to find out. On three, you’re going to run to the next
cell.’ Kingsley shared a look with Luna. ‘We will protect you from fire as best we can. Hopefully
we’ll be able to take some of those Death Eaters out as well.’

‘I liked the sword better when Neville held it,’ Ron grumbled, but he took up sword and prepared
himself. In his other hand, he held his wand. ‘On three?’

‘One. Two. Three!’

Ron rushed out, keeping low, and ran as fast as his long legs could handle. Spells flew
overhead, whistled past his ears, blew up the sides of the walls and showered him in debris and
dust. He reached the next cell and dived in, chest heaving, feeling as if his heart might explode.
He laughed crazily.

‘I’m so going to die.’

When he looked out and up, he saw Kingsley hand held out, palm up - a clear sign to stay where
he was. He ducked back in and watched as spells flew by in both directions. The next thing he knew,
Kingsley was beside him again, and with backup. A young Auror had joined them. Ron didn’t know his
name, but he was grateful all the same. Any help was welcome help. Ron looked across as Luna
followed them, pressing herself against the cell across the corridor. She smiled encouragingly at
him.

‘Ready?’ Kingsley asked.

Ron heaved a breath and gave a nod. He ran out again, amidst more cover fire, until he reached
the next cell. They repeated this several more times until disaster struck.

Ron was hiding again, waiting for Kingsley, Luna and the un-named Auror, when suddenly a shout
erupted. Ron stuck his head out, terror seizing his throat and heart tightly (not Luna!), and
looked up the corridor. Spells still flew, into the dust, creating more dust, and shrouding his
vision. Then Luna appeared (his heart loosened), unharmed, firing spells rapidly down the corridor.
The young Auror came next, supporting a dazed looking Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had blood dripping
down the left side of his face. As they drew closer, another spell came flying, and struck the
young Auror. He fell limp, a green cast spreading outwards from point of impact. Ron knew what it
was – the Killing Curse. Luna hesitated, looking back in horror.

‘Luna! Run!’ Ron yelled. Luna looked back at him, ducked as a spell came whizzing at her. ‘Run!’
She did and dived in beside him. He seized her with relief.

‘Ron, Kingsley’s still alive, we have to help him.’

‘I know,’ he said, his mind, never the quickest, trying to formulate a plan.

‘I’ll go back for him,’ Luna proposed.

Ron began to protest, but she cut him off.

‘You’ll have to protect me.’

‘How?’

Luna lowered her head a moment – her wonderful blonde hair falling to hide her face. She brushed
it aside and looked up at him, determination on her beautiful face. ‘Draw them off. If you run at
them, they’ll focus on you. Then it will be safe for me to return and help Kingsley.’

Ron swallowed. Luna had tears in her eyes. She knew how risky this was. He knew as well. He
kissed her suddenly. She melted into him. They came apart, foreheads touching, and looked into each
other’s eyes. A moment passed. That’s all they had. They broke apart. Ron held wand and sword in
hand, and then charged around the corner, screaming out a battle cry, firing spells before him
blindly.

He ran and ran, jumped, ducked, fell and rolled, and then kept going. He couldn’t stop. Spells
came at him so fast he didn’t know what to do. He had to rely on instinct to survive. How many
Death Eaters awaited him? Judging from the amount of spells, it was a lot - either that or a few
very talented dualists. He would never get by them like this – not firing harmless spells.

‘The Killing Curse can be used, if necessary,’ Ron remember Dumbledore telling them. He felt a
lump in his throat. That was his only chance, and it was certainly necessary. He thought it had
probably never been more necessary.

He thought of what would happen if he failed - if Harry couldn’t defeat Voldemort because of
him. Images of his family came to mind, enslaved by Death Eaters, tortured, raped and killed. Luna.
And then Ginny – the way she looked when they brought her back, as she lay disfigured in the
hospital wing.

‘Aaaargh!’ Ron screamed in rage. ‘Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!’

It was almost like he was mad. He barely remembered how it all happened. What he did remember
was the sudden pain, and then the numbness in his hand. At the time he didn’t understand how it
happened. He didn’t know it was even possible. Looking back, he realised the truth. Just as he’d
fired another Killing Curse, one of the Death Eaters curses (surely a Killing Curse as well – what
else could kill his hand?) had struck, and they had collided, only inches away from Ron. The blast
had caught him sparingly. He fell, his wand splitting lengthways and flying into the air. His body
hit the stone floor and he cried out. The pain was intense for only a second. Then he felt
nothing.

‘Ugh.’ He groaned, opening his eyes. He was shocked motionless. He blinked and groaned. A face
appeared, no, not a face, a skull - a Death Eater skull mask. Another appeared beside the first. So
it was only two very talented dualists. Ron recognised the second ones voice when he spoke.

‘Well, well, well,’ Severus Snape said, ‘if it isn’t one of the Weasley brats. Ron, isn’t it?’
Ron saw the wand in his hand.

‘Uh…’ he groaned. He knew he was going to die, so he didn’t hold back his anger. ‘Fuck you
traitor.’

Snape pointed the wand down at him. ‘Now, now, manners Weasley. I will take points from your
house.’ The other Death Eater laughed. ‘What do you think of my wand? It used to belong to Potter.
I think it suits me perfectly, don’t you?’

Ron glared at him.

‘What’s wrong?’ Snape waved his wand leisurely. ‘Can’t you move? You must have fell hard – maybe
you broke your spine. Paralysed. Such a shame.’ Ron realised that Snape thought the Killing Curse
had missed him. He thought he was paralysed. Ron mulled that over. While it was true he couldn’t
move his left hand, he didn’t feel paralysed. He was in a lot of pain, actually, just not in his
left hand. He tried the right, and felt the weight of the Sword of Gryffindor. He might not have
his wand, but he wasn’t entirely defenceless.

‘Enough gloating,’ Ron said, ‘just kill me and get it over with.’

Snape sighed, as if disappointed. ‘Very well.’ The moment Snape aimed his wand, Ron swung his
right hand, and the sword attached to it. The arc cut a clean slice, right through Snape’s wrist,
severing the hand. His old potions Professor howled in agony. The other Death Eater stepped back in
surprise, his skull mask getting splattered with blood.

Ron took advantage of his shock. He rolled to his feet and thrust the sword one handed into the
belly of the other Death Eater, as hard as he could, screaming. They fell, Ron’s body weight atop
the sword, pushing it through with a primal scream of rage. The Death Eater was still.

Ron finally stopped screaming and came back to himself. He could hear Snape bawling like a baby
behind him. He stood up and pulled the sword free. Or at least he tried to. He had to step on the
Death Eater to get enough leverage to free the sword. He stepped in front of Snape, who looked up
at him fearfully, clutching the stump of his right hand.

‘Ron!’ It was Luna. He turned just as she flung herself at him. She was crying. ‘I heard you
scream… I thought…’ she whispered in his ear, and then kissed his face all over.

‘I’m alright,’ Ron said, forgetting for the moment about his left hand.

She beamed at him.

‘Kingsley?’ Ron asked.

‘I’ll live kid,’ the Auror replied, stepping up behind Luna. His face had been mostly cleaned of
the blood, and Ron could see the gash in the top of his head.

Dumbledore and a few battered looking survivors came next. The aged Headmaster looked at Ron,
then over his shoulder to the dead wizard lying behind him, and then finally down to the cowering
Severus Snape.

‘Albus,’ Snape cried, ‘I’m so sorry. Please. Forgive me.’

Dumbledore looked at the traitors missing hand, pity in his eyes. He ignored the pleading look
in Snape’s eyes and waved the stump of his arm at the pathetic wizard. The stunning spell knocked
the sense out of Snape and he fell unconscious. It was the only mercy he would get.

‘You did well Mr. Weasley,’ Dumbledore said, looking at him proudly.

Ron nodded. He still couldn’t feel his left hand. He ignored that for now and looked around.
When he found what he was looking for, he stooped to pry Potter’s wand from Snape’s severed hand.
He offered the wand to Dumbledore.

‘It’s Potters.’

‘So it is,’ Dumbledore replied. He presented the stump of his right hand to Luna. ‘Miss
Lovegood, please, remove that wand from my arm if you will.’ Luna did so. ‘Snap it.’ She looked at
him questioningly. ‘Severus won’t be needing it where he is going. Snap it.’ She did. ‘Now, if you
could fix Harry’s wand in its place, that would be wonderful.’ Luna did just that. Dumbledore
smiled and looked at Ron once more. ‘I believe we have a snake to kill. Ready?’

‘Yeah, I am.’

**A/N:** I know. I took some more liberties with the Killing Curse. So sue me. My
justification is that because the spell only clipped Ron, it wasn’t enough contact to kill him,
only his hand. If you can’t deal with that, well, then, whatever. I do hope you all enjoyed though.
Oh yeah, for the portkey readers, sorry about the change in formatting. HTML hates me, and this was
easier. :)



40. Chapter Forty
-----------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord
Chapter Forty
Through his connection with Voldemort, Harry felt Nagini die. He smiled and kept walking.



Neville woke up shivering. It was deathly cold in the deserted, collapsed corridor. He rose to
his feet and looked around. The way forward was completely blocked. It would take him a long time
to magic his way through the stone blockade. He decided to find another way around, and so set off
back the way he’d come.



Draco was alone now. The corridor he was in was dark and deserted, apparently unused by
Voldemort and his cronies. The magical lights that should have lit the way had faded into nothing.
Draco held his lightened wand aloft like a torch and scanned all sides of the corridor. He found
what he was looking for and stepped into the open cell. No one would find him in here.

He took a seat against the far wall and cancelled his light. Darkness engulfed him. Inside his
robe, safely tucked inside a secret pocket, he found the picture of Blaise he needed. It was an old
photo, one he had forgotten all about until recently, taken when they used to be friends, showing
the two of them smirking at the camera, arms around each other’s shoulders.

Draco had torn the picture in half, ripping it down the middle, so that only Blaise was present.
Draco’s arm and hand had magically disappeared.

Now he took up a silver knife from his boot and, without hesitating, he cut the palm of his
hand. Blood seeped out and dripped to the floor. He ignored the pain and pressed the picture of
Blaise face first into his bleeding hand. The blood soaked into the picture.

‘*Invenio!*’ Draco spoke the dark incantation gutturally.

It worked. It was almost like a blueprint had been imprinted into his brain. Azkaban in its
entirety was right there, every tiny little detail of the prison fortress, all in his head, and
calling to him from the third floor was the very person he was seeking. He could almost see the
backstabbing bastard. Every move he made was relayed directly into Draco’s head. He kept a firm
hold on the bloody picture and stood up.

Draco knew exactly where Blaise was and he was going to find him.



Neville found a set of stairs leading down into the true dungeons of Azkaban, where the vilest
of prisoners were kept. The steps had darkened with mud and grime and proved treacherous underfoot.
Neville had to steady himself several times until he finally reached the bottom.

It was dark down here, with very few lights, but from what Neville could see the place spoke of
death and torment. Flickering shadows gave the corridor a haunting look, aided by the ominous dark
brown streaks at various intervals along the walls. He didn’t want to know what they were.

As he walked down the bleak hall, he peered into the cells, and wasn’t surprised to see
malnourished dead bodies in most of them. These were Voldemort’s prisoners; wizards and witches not
so different from him, left for dead to rot in the darkest dungeons of Azkaban. He felt sick to his
stomach. The further he went down the corridor, the more he couldn’t stand it. The smell was
unbearable.

Finally, he had stop. Bent over, he heaved out the contents of his stomach. A hollow laugh
reached his ears and he whipped his head up, wand in hand. The sound came from one of the cells. He
edged closer, peering into the dark of the cell.

‘Who are you?’ the voice croaked.

‘My name is Neville Longbottom,’ he replied. ‘Are you okay?’ Neville lowered his wand.

The occupant of the cell laughed again. It was a dry laugh, which turned into a coughing fit.
‘Longbottom,’ the voice was so weak, he barely heard it.

‘You know me?’

‘Please, free me,’ the voice pleaded.

Neville inched closer. ‘Who are you?’ he repeated.

A bone thin arm shot through the bars and grabbed him by the throat. He choked and struggled
away. Gagging, he demanded, ‘what’s wrong with you?’

There was that laugh again. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ Neville realised it was the laughter of
madness. Whoever was in the cell had gone insane.

‘Who are you?’ Neville asked again.

The black figure in the cell started sobbing. Neville raised his wand and pointed it at the
cell. ‘*Lumos*.’

The light revealed the figure in all its ghastly glory. Long dark hanks of black hair hid the
face, streaks of grey and white here and there. Skeletal limbs jutted out from under the torn
remains of the cloak. The figure was naked underneath, the cloak not enough to hide this fact. It
was female, but only just so. Blood caked her thighs and horrible festering welts covered her
entire emaciated body. It looked like she had been ravaged by a monster – or several.

She looked up at him with lunacy in her eyes. Her lips had cracked and bled and dark lines aged
her face. She rocked and giggled and then sobbed in cycles of insanity. He stared at her for
several minutes, horror struck, before finally he recognised her. He could barely see the
beautifully cruel woman he had seen in the Daily Prophet, but he knew it was she.

‘Bellatrix Lestrange.’

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him again. ‘Help me,’ she croaked.

‘He did this to you?’ The he Neville spoke of was obvious - her master Voldemort.

She shook her head. ‘No no no no,’ she continued to shake her head. ‘He didn’t. He didn’t. I’m
his. No no no.’ She sobbed again.

‘He did.’

‘He sent me here,’ she wailed, crawling forward suddenly, and clutching the bars, pressing her
mad face into them. ‘He sent me. I failed him and he sent me. No no no. Not him. Wicked little
brat.’ She spat those last words.

Neville never thought he would ever pity the murderous witch that had tortured his parents, but
suddenly he did. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

‘Wicked boy. Wicked brat. I’m insane?’ Bellatrix giggled. ‘He’s insane. Mad mad mad boy. Bad dog
– must be put down.’

‘Who? You-Know-Who?’

‘Noooo,’ she cooed. ‘I’m his. He sent me.’

‘He sent you here, but he didn’t do this?’ Neville gestured to her broken body.

She cried, burying her head in her hands. ‘Wicked boy… hurt me… took me…’

‘Took you where?’

‘Took me! Took me! Took me!’ She shook the bars as hard as she could each time she said it.

Neville sighed. She was too far-gone. He went to leave.

‘Please,’ she cried out, and he had to stop. ‘Please.’

He turned to face her. She had stood up, holding the bars for support. The cloak lay at her
feet, her naked skeletal body displayed. She was bruised and battered more than he thought. She was
struggling to stand.

‘Please, come here,’ she croaked out.

‘Why?’

‘Please.’ Her gaunt legs shook.

Neville came back and stood as close as he dared.

She nodded, sobbing still, and slowly managed to turn around, displaying her back. She had been
whipped, but even worse, carved into her lower back, he read the words: ‘Property of Blaise
Zabini.’

‘Bag dog,’ she whispered, ‘hurt me… must be put down…’

She struggled to face him again and leaned in close, pressing her face into the bars again. She
looked him in the eyes. ‘Took me.’

Neville understood. ‘He raped you.’

She cried, collapsed, and cried some more, head in her hands, rocking back and forth and
nodding.

Eventually, she stilled. ‘Please, help me.’

‘How? I can’t free you.’

‘Help… kill…’

‘Kill you?’ Neville shook his head as he said it. ‘I can’t do that either.’

‘Please… kill…’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Please… mercy… kill…’

‘I’m not a murderer.’

‘No no no… murder no… mercy…’

She banged her head into the bars.

‘Mercy!’

Blood trickled down her face.

‘Mercy.’

‘Stop it,’ Neville said, when she went to do it again.

She did, but she still kept talking, ‘mercy… kill… help… kill… please… mercy…’

Was it the right thing to do? She was a criminal. And evil. But then, nobody deserved this.
Could he do it? Should he? What was right? He didn’t know. If he left her here, either way, she
would spend the rest of her life here. If Voldemort won, she would no doubt be tortured more.
Locked in a cell and left to madness. Maybe it was ironic that her fate would be this. But Neville
didn’t have a single malicious feeling in his heart.

He could grant mercy to his enemy.

He pointed his wand at her. She cried tears of happiness. ‘Yes… please…’

Neville felt tears down his own cheeks. ‘Avada Kedavra,’ he whispered.



Elsewhere, Hermione and the remaining members of Harry’s small band had been engaged by a large
group of Death Eaters. The small corridors created a lot of confusion with spells flying every
which way. Hermione knew they were outnumbered, but she also knew they couldn’t lose. Harry had to
win. And she would live to see that.



Neville left Bellatrix in her cell. He moved on numbly at first. He’d just killed someone, and
while it wasn’t a malicious murder, it was still murder. Whatever his reasons for doing it - he was
now a killer. He did his best to banish those thoughts for now. He had to concentrate. He found a
new set of stairs, these ones leading up and out of the horrifying dungeons. He took them
gladly.

When he reached the next floor, he was relieved to breath in the relatively clean air. He took
his time to get his breath back, doing his best to put the dungeons behind him figuratively as well
as literally. Then he took in his new surroundings. There was another set of stairs leading up. He
debated taking them and decided yes.

The next floor he reached was colder than the others. He could see his breath. He suddenly felt
weary. He remembered Bellatrix’s frail body. He remembered the horrible words engraved into her
back. This brought on flashbacks of Ginny’s mutilated body as well. He felt sadness engulf him and
dropped to his knees.

What was wrong with him? What was happening…?

He felt them then. Dementors. Of course. He tried to raise his head and look around. He was
surrounded by them. How many? Three? No, four. They closed in on him, sweeping down like nightmare
bats. He raised his wand and tried to banish them, but his heart was too full of sorrow.

‘*Expetco Patronum*!’ Neville was blinded by light. ‘Back! Get away! You heard me!’

The Dementors withdrew, but not far enough for their effects to leave his body. He struggled to
keep his head up. Who was his saviour?

‘I said get back! He’s mine.’

What? Neville struggled to understand the words. The light faded, but the Dementors kept their
distance. Several Death Eaters stepped forward to stand before Neville. He raised his head and
looked at the one in front. The Death Eater removed his mask.

‘Hello Longbottom,’ Blaise Zabini said cheerily. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

Neville tried to raise his wand.

‘Stop him,’ Zabini said casually. One of the Death Eaters reached out and easily disarmed him.
Neville lowered his head in defeat. ‘Sorry, but I can’t have that, can I? You know, we never really
had a chance to chat, did we? In fact, if I remember rightly, our only interaction, was you…
punching me in the face.’ Blaise made a fist and cracked Neville around the jaw. He fell back as
the Death Eaters laughed. Blaise kicked him idily. ‘Not so fun, is it fatty?’

Neville nursed his jaw and climbed onto his knees.

‘You do remember, don’t you? It was just after Draco dumped that tart Ginny Weasley.’

‘Don’t you dare say her name!’

‘What?’ He laughed. ‘Ginny Weasley? Why not?’

Neville felt a spike of power inside him. It scared him, but this time, he welcomed it. ‘I dare
you to say it again.’

Blaise lowered his face right down to Neville’s ear and whispered, ‘Ginny. Weasley.’

The blast of magical energy shocked everyone, but Blaise caught it full on. He was propelled
right into the wall. The other two Death Eaters merely fell backwards. Neville was on his feet. He
had his wand raised. He pointed it at the Dementors first. ‘*Expecto Patronum*!’ They fled
under the power of his Patronus. He turned his wand next on the Death Eaters. ‘*Stupify!*’ The
one stunner was so powerful it was enough to take down both of the still standing Death Eaters.
They flew backwards and hit the ground, rolling several times.

As all this was happening, Blaise was trying to clear the cobwebs. Neville stood over him, wand
aimed. Blaise froze when his eyes cleared. He held his hands up. ‘Okay, you got me,’ he said, a
high note of fear in his voice.

‘I wouldn’t Longbottom.’

Neville turned, surprised, and looked at Draco, who had his wand aimed, but not at Blaise.

‘What are you playing at Malfoy?’

‘He’s mine,’ Draco said, gesturing to Blaise. ‘Step away. You’ve done your bit.’

Neville looked at him for a long time, obviously mulling something over. Finally, he dropped his
wand, and stepped back.

Draco was surprised this time. ‘That’s it? Just like that?’

‘What did you expect?’

Draco took his time to reply. ‘Not this,’ he finally said.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Neville said, ‘this isn’t about revenge for me. Ginny’s gone, and she’ll
never be back, no matter what you do to him.’

‘What is it about then?’ Draco spoke coldly.

Neville looked at Blaise. ‘He… he’s a bad dog. He needs to be put down.’

Blaise’s eyes widened, and he tried to run. Draco hooked him and pulled him back with magic,
slamming him into the wall. Blaise winced and cried.

‘But you won’t do it,’ Draco observed, as if nothing had happened. ‘You think that lets you off
the hook? You might not have killed him, but you didn’t save him.’

Blaise looked incredibly disturbed. Draco was talking as if he was already dead.

‘I… I can live with that,’ Neville admitted quietly. He turned his back to Draco. ‘I didn’t see
you.’

‘No,’ Draco said, turned so that he was facing Blaise, essentially turning his back on Neville.
‘You didn’t.’

Neville walked away.



Draco was left alone with the wizard that had murdered his girlfriend. Blaise started to cry.
‘Please, Draco,’ he sniffled, ‘I swear, it’s all been a big misunderstanding.’

Draco ignored his words. ‘I’ve been reading a lot lately. Books about the Dark Arts. It’s
actually pretty interesting. The spells and the curses in those books aren’t what I expected. See,
I’ve come to realise something. While there are spells designated as unquestionable dark, most of
them are relatively tame. Most of them are used everyday by perfectly ordinary wizards and witches.
What makes them dark… is the intent.’

Blaise continued to cry.

‘You should be scared,’ Draco said, apparently, outwardly, calm. ‘I’ve learnt that the Dark Arts
aren’t so much a set of spells and curses. The Dark Arts are how you use the spells. The intent,
Blaise. And believe me, my intent is very, very dark.’

Draco heard a tinkling sound and looked down at Blaise’s feet. Sure enough, a puddle had formed
underneath him. Draco smirked at Blaise. ‘Wet yourself, Zabini?’

‘P-p-p-lease Draco,’ Blaise begged, ‘I’m your friend. I swear. Please.’

Draco had his wand aimed. ‘This spell is normally used to boil water. But I’m not going to be
boiling water. No, have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have your blood boiling inside
you?’

Blaise whimpered.

‘Let’s find out.’

Blaise screamed. The sound echoed in the corridor, throughout the prison, and it didn’t stop for
a very long time.

Harry had reached his destination. He stood on top of Azkaban. The night was clear, the starry
sky visible. Voldemort stood across from him. The wind whipped their robes about.

‘Let’s begin,’ Voldemort said, and waved his wand.

The Dark Lord was on top form. He tried to end it quickly with a Killing Curse, but Harry was
ready. Rolling to the side, the curse flew right past him. Harry fired his own spell as he rolled.
A simple Avada Kedavra would merely be cast aside. What Harry needed to do was take Voldemort off
guard. He needed to create an opening. So instead of the deadly curse, he sent a torrent of flames
after the dark wizard.

Voldemort disappeared in the flames, but reappeared moments later, having Apparated at the last
second.

‘You’ll have to do better than that!’ Voldemort taunted.

Harry whirled his wand around and the ground around Voldemort shot upwards to form several
spikes. Voldemort again Apparated out of the way. Harry twirled his wand. The spikes of stone broke
at the base and whirled to find Voldemort.

Voldemort made them explode before they reached him, but they had almost covered the distance by
then, and the explosion sent shards of stone raining down on him. He ducked and covered himself
with his robe.

‘Avada Kedavra!’

Harry’s Killing Curse hit the robe, but Voldemort was already gone. The black robe disintegrated
into dust and blew away in the wind. Harry stood ready, waiting for the next attack.

The fight would continue.



Running up the next flight of stairs, Neville felt the battle begin. The energy was
tremendous.

‘I’m coming Harry.’

Neville put on a burst of speed.



At the same moment, standing over the headless corpse of the snake Nagini, Dumbledore raised his
head upwards.

‘What is it?’ Ron asked, trying to rub life back into his left hand.

‘It has begun.’

When the attack came it caught him off guard. He barely managed to avoid the curse, deflecting
it with a wall of stone.

Voldemort didn’t give up the advantage. He pressed it, continuing to fling curses towards
Harry’s retreating form.

Harry took a page out of Voldemort’s book and Apparated to safety.

He reappeared behind Voldemort, but the older wizard sensed him and turned to fling another
curse his way. Harry blocked it with some rubble, and then reformed the pieces into a giant spear,
aimed at Voldemort’s heart.

Voldemort roared in outrage and frustration.

‘I’ll kill you Potter!’

Voldemort stopped the spear and attempted to turn it. Harry fought him. The stone spear
quivered.

‘Why fight me boy? You can’t win. I was being merciful. One quick curse and it’s all over. No
pain. But you test my patience…’

‘Shut up and fight!’ Harry shouted, and the spear jerked forwards. Voldemort cried out and
managed to stop it again.

‘That’s it! Now I’m going to kill you, but so slowly, you’ll wish you *had* just given
up!’

Voldemort’s power spiked and the spear spun. A thrust of his wand and Voldemort sent it hurtling
towards Harry.

Harry gasped and dived to the ground. The spear tore apart the ground just behind him, breaking
the foundations. The roof began to cave in. Harry scrambled to stay on it, finally reaching safe
ground, but exhausted, flat on his back.

Voldemort appeared above him, wand aimed at his heart.

‘Harry!’

It was Neville, and he came rushing at Voldemort, firing stunning spells.

Voldemort casually flicked his wand and sent Neville flying.

Harry took advantage and kicked Voldemort in the kneecap. Voldemort howled in pain as Harry
rolled to his feet.

‘Avada - ’ The curse was interrupted before Harry could finish it. Voldemort thrust his wand at
him and sent him backwards through the air. Harry landed hard with a thud and a groan.

Harry tried to get up, but a curse from Voldemort cut into his arm. Harry cried out and fell
back. He felt blood trickling down his arm. Looking at it, he could see a large gash just below his
shoulder. He groaned and again tried to get up. He made it to his feet, but Voldemort was right
there, wand pointed. A white light shot like a knife from the tip of the wand.



Across the roof, barely lifting his head off the ground, Neville watched as the curse made
contact.

Harry fell, blood erupting, spurting from his neck.

Neville screamed in rage.



41. Chapter Forty One
---------------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord
Chapter Forty-One
An explosion of energy rocked the entire foundation of Azkaban.

Hermione felt it vibrating through the stone under her feet. She saw it all around as the walls
and floor cracked, great jagged cracks that threatened the entire structure. She was standing with
Sirius, Remus and Tonks, watching over the captured Death Eaters, chief among them Lucius
Malfoy.

‘What was that?’ Hermione asked, panicked.

Lucius Malfoy laughed. ‘That would be the death of your beloved Potter.’

Sirius kicked him in the face. ‘Shut up.’ He turned to face Hermione and took hold of her arms.
‘Hey, listen to me Hermione. We don’t know anything yet so don’t jump to conclusions. And don’t
listen to a word these idiots say. Got it?’

‘Yeah,’ she said.

‘Sirius.’ Remus got his best friends attention. ‘I don’t think this place can withstand another
shock like that. Maybe we should get out while we can?’

‘Hmm,’ Sirius hummed, ‘probably.’

‘And leave Harry?’ Hermione protested.

‘He can take care of himself,’ Sirius declared loudly.

‘I agree with Remus,’ Tonks chimed in. ‘We have to leave now.’

‘Let’s go then,’ Sirius said, taking Hermione by the hand and ignoring her protests.



Voldemort couldn’t believe his eyes. The power radiating from this child was incredible,
rivalling even his own. He tried to Apparate away (after all, Potter was dead, and he didn’t need
to fight this battle right now), but the pure bursts of energy being emitted by the boy were so
powerful he couldn’t break through them. He was encompassed on all sides and trapped.

Neville had gotten to his feet, his fist wrapped tightly around his wand, almost snapping it.
Anger pulsed from him. He thrust his wand at Voldemort and shouted, ‘*AVADA KEDAVRA!*’

Voldemort ducked in a very ungainly fashion. The curse blew apart the entire section of roof
behind him, resulting in a huge explosion. He turned to stare behind him with wide eyes. What was
going on?

Neville tried again.

Voldemort managed to deflect it with his own power. The curse flew into the air. Whatever
happened, he couldn’t let this boy hit the prison with another one of those curses. He would kill
them all.

Voldemort focused all of his power on protecting the structure of Azkaban while Neville,
enraged, did all he could to blow Voldemort to smithereens. Finally, after nearly five minutes of
trying to keep Neville from blowing the whole of Azkaban to dust, the power radiating from him
began to wane, and Voldemort saw his chance.

The Dark Lord used what little power he had left to knock Neville off his feet.



Neville lay stunned as Voldemort stumbled over to him. He regained enough composure to finally
raise his head – what had just happened? He remembered the sight of Harry, blood spurting from the
neck, falling limply to the ground. Then all was blinding whiteness. A rage.

Voldemort appeared above him, looking faint, but a smile of satisfaction on his pasty, snakelike
visage. Voldemort pointed his wand.

‘Whoever you are,’ Voldemort panted, ‘you should have… thought twice… before challenging
me.’

Voldemort went to open his mouth again, no doubt about to issue the words that would end
Neville’s life, but suddenly he went slack. His eyes rolled up. A green aura shimmered across his
body.

Voldemort fell to his knees. His wand slipped out of his hand and rolled across the ground. He
collapsed sideways and lay still.

Neville rolled over and climbed onto his hands and knees. He’d never felt more exhausted as he
did right now. It was a chore to raise his head and stare across the rooftop. Harry was standing
(standing!) with his hand clutching the side of his neck. Blood soaked his hand and the front of
his robes, but he was standing. He had his wand in the other hand, still pointed where Voldemort
had stood. His eyes looked glazed.

‘Harry,’ Neville said weakly. ‘Harry.’

Harry looked over at him briefly, and then collapsed.

Neville felt a surge of adrenaline take over. He pushed himself up and staggered in a half run
over to Harry’s motionless body. He had to be okay. He had to be. He couldn’t die now. Not after
they had finally won! Neville collapsed next to Harry and shook him. He didn’t respond.

‘No, please,’ Neville cried, ‘you can’t die. You can’t leave Hermione. Wake up!’

Harry still didn’t respond.

‘Harry, please, you’re the hero. You are. I know you don’t believe it, but you are. It was never
meant to be me. Please. You’re the hero. And the hero never dies.’

‘Ugh,’ Harry groaned.

‘Harry?’

‘What… are you… doing… idiot… get… help…’

Neville laughed, nodding and crying. ‘Yeah. Right. Sorry. Okay.’

‘Go…’

With a *crack*, Neville went to get help.

When Harry awoke, he was lying in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. He opened his eyes slowly and
looked around. How is it I always end up here? This thought was an idle one – he didn’t really
care. What mattered was that he had woken up. And standing beside his bed, talking with Draco,
Neville, Seraphina, Ron and Luna, was Hermione.

‘Hey,’ he croaked, and she jumped. She whirled to see him awake, and before he knew it lots of
bushy hair was blinding him, and she was kissing him so hard, leaning on him so hard, he winced.
She pulled back with a squeak.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, are you okay?’

‘Sore,’ he said, and winced as his throat protested. ‘Hurts to speak.’

‘I’ll get you some water,’ Hermione said, and dashed off.

Harry reached up and felt the scar on his neck.

‘Madam Pomfrey is doing the best she can to heal it,’ Neville said, taking a seat on the end of
the bed. ‘She said whatever curse You-Know-Who used really did a number on you. The wound is
resistant to all kinds of healing medicine.’

‘And… rest of me?’

‘Just drained,’ Neville replied. ‘Madam Pomfrey said she’ll give you something for that once you
wake up. Maybe I should go get her?’

‘No,’ Harry said quickly, and winced again. ‘I’m fine. Right now. Wait.’

‘Okay.’

‘Potter.’ Ron came to stand by the bed.

Harry looked at him.

‘Here.’ Ron held out a familiar object – his old wand, lost when Bellatrix captured him.

Harry smiled happily and took it back. ‘How?’

‘Snape had it,’ Ron replied. ‘I got it back when I beat him. Cut off his hand.’ Ron said the
last bit proudly, sticking out his chest.

Harry laughed and cried in pain at the same time. Ron looked worried, glancing back, hoping
Hermione wasn’t back to notice and scold him. He looked back at Harry once he had ascertained she
wasn’t back yet.

‘Cut his hand off, huh?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Nice one.’

Ron smiled. ‘Thanks.’

Harry noticed Ron’s blackened left hand. ‘What happened?’

‘A Killing Curse,’ Ron said, less enthusiastic now. ‘I managed to deflect most of it, but I
guess not enough. It’s dead.’

‘Oh.’

‘Hey.’ Ron perked up. ‘It’s nothing. I got to cut Snapes hand off, and kill a giant snake. What
more can I ask for?’

Harry could tell he was just putting on a brave front. This time he decided to let it slide. And
besides, Hermione was back, and was currently forcing a mouthful of water down his throat. He
coughed and spat some out.

‘Slowly,’ he said, and she blushed.

‘Sorry.’ She tipped slower this time and Harry managed to swallow.

After having his fill of water, Hermione moved to put the glass on the bedside table. She sat
next to him and took his hand.

‘Harry?’ Seraphina got his attention. ‘Thanks,’ she said, stepping forward and quickly kissing
him on the forehead before he could object. Neville laughed at Harry’s embarrassed look. Hermione
smiled.

‘Sorry,’ Neville said, ‘I couldn’t talk her out of it.’

Harry shook his head. ‘I’ll let her off this time.’

‘We’re all just glad you’re alive,’ Luna said. She placed a rather odd looking plant down on the
bedside table. It was purple and had long, thin leaves that drooped. ‘It’s called the Fesus Plant.
You can use the leaves to brew a tea that will… erm… make you happy.’ She turned a tad pink and
leant closer to whisper, ‘you and Hermione should try it together.’

Harry looked a little confused. ‘Oh-kay.’ He said it as if he was unsure.

Luna smiled and stood upright again, apparently not noticing. ‘Enjoy it, they’re rare.’

‘Guys, we appreciate you coming and all, but it’s getting late and Harry should probably rest.’
Hermione gave Neville a beseeching look.

‘Yeah,’ Neville said, clearing his throat, ‘we probably should. Come on Sera.’

‘See ya then,’ Ron called, leaving with Luna.

‘We’ll talk later,’ Neville said to Harry on his way out.

That left Harry alone with just Hermione and Draco. Draco stood up and wandered over. So far
he’d been sitting as far away as possible while still being apart of the group.

‘You okay?’ What Harry was really asking was – did you get your revenge?

‘I’m okay.’ It’s done.

‘Good.’

‘I should go as well,’ Draco said, patting Hermione on the shoulder.

‘Bye Draco,’ Hermione said as he left.

‘Is he really okay?’ Harry asked honestly this time.

‘Not much different,’ Hermione admitted sadly. ‘I don’t think he’ll ever really get over what
happened.’

Harry agreed. ‘Yeah.’

‘There’s nothing we can do about that right now,’ Hermione said, lying down next to Harry and
being careful not to hurt his abused body. ‘And we have all the time in the world to think of
something that will help Draco. All the time in the world.’

Harry smiled. ‘Yeah, we do, don’t we.’

**A/N:** Okay, in case anyone didn’t get it, the plant Luna gave Harry to use with Hermione
(that would make him “happy”) was actually like a wizarding world equivalent of an aphrodisiac.
He-he. One more to go. Review please.



42. Epilogue
------------

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling, etc, etc. Anyone who
thinks I do own Harry Potter is an idiot.

Harry Potter and the Year of Discord
Epilogue
There was a hill; one of many overlooking the village of Ambleside, in Cumbria, approximately
one mile north of Lake Windermere. Draco Malfoy appeared on the hillside. He wrapped his cloak
around himself to wait.

He wasn’t waiting long.

The sound of joyous barking alerted him to the presence of Charlie, Harry’s faithful companion.
Charlie was a collie, and a very energetic one at that. Draco knelt to greet the dog and stroke his
ears. Harry wasn’t far behind.

‘Been waiting long?’

‘A few minutes,’ Draco replied. ‘Hermione watching the shop?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, finally reaching his old friend. They shook hands. ‘It’s good to see
you.’

‘Don’t start with the mushy crap.’

Harry laughed. They hadn’t seen each other for a few months. Draco was too busy restoring the
Malfoy Manor and tracking down every single Death Eater still at large. Some said it was his
obsession. Hermione had finally convinced him to take a break. He would be spending the week with
them, away from the wizarding world.

‘Well, let’s go,’ Draco said, ‘Charlie’s getting impatient.’

Indeed, the collie had taken to running around them in circles and barking impatiently. Harry
ruffled Charlie’s shaggy head and then led the way back down through the hills towards the village
of Ambleside.

‘Did you hear? Longbottom and his girl got married.’

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, smiling, ‘I know. Hermione dragged me there.’

Draco chuckled. ‘And how is life among the Muggles?’

‘Peaceful.’

‘I don’t know how you stand it.’

‘Yeah, how do I stand the fact that no one stares at me and judges every move I make,’ Harry
said sarcastically. ‘What was I thinking?’

‘Fair enough. I just know I’d go insane.’

‘Hmm, but you should know,’ Harry observed. ‘You’re just as famous as me these days.’

‘It’s not that bad. I spend most of my time at work or at home enjoying some uncomfortable
silences with my mother.’

‘Still not going great huh?’

‘It’s hard,’ Draco finally said. ‘For whatever reason, she loves father, and I’m sort of
responsible for him being in Azkaban.’

‘At least she hasn’t slit your throat while you sleep,’ Harry commented casually, a teasing
smile on his face.

‘Very funny.’

Harry laughed. ‘Hermione is worried about you. Just thought you should know. She’ll probably
corner you at some point.’

‘Great.’ Draco rolled his eyes. ‘Just what I need. Why is she worried?’

‘She says you’re not the same. You’re distant.’

‘I’m busy.’

‘I know, but she says you’re busy on purpose. To distract yourself from having a life.’

‘Getting a girl, you mean.’ Draco aggressively kicked a loose stone and Charlie went racing
after it.

‘*She* means,’ Harry pointed out. ‘And yes.’

Draco had nothing to say to that. It was probably true, but he didn’t want to think about it. He
couldn’t. It felt like a betrayal to Ginny. Truth was, he’d come to accept the fact he’d never be
with anyone again. He was practically a eunuch at this point.

‘Just be prepared,’ Harry said. ‘Maybe come up with some reasonable excuses.’

Draco ignored the last comment. ‘So this is our life now huh? You – the savoir of the wizarding
world, twice over, I might add - owning a silly Muggle sweet shop and me running around after Death
Eaters and growing old with only my judgemental mother as company. Oh how the mighty have
fallen.’

‘Hey, don’t judge,’ Harry protested. ‘You’re life might suck, but I’ve never been happier. And
hey, my silly little sweet shop and this Muggle village just might surprise you.’

‘I won’t hold my breath.’

Harry shook his head. ‘Come on, Hermione is waiting.’

**A/N:** And there we have it. A little glimpse into what life is going to be like for Harry
and company now that Voldemort is dead. I hope you enjoyed my little fic. Leave me a review and let
me know, and if you have any questions, be sure to ask, because I will answer. Thanks for sticking
with me and for all the support and encouragement.

On another note, I have been considering continuing this universe with another story. It
wouldn't be anything big and dramatic like this, but just a little more in depth insight into
the lives of Harry and Draco and company after the fall of Voldemort. This epilogue would kind of
be the prologue to that. I don't know if I will, but the idea is there. If I do, I might not do
it for a while yet, and I'd need to really come up with some concrete ideas. Let me know what
you think.

And, one last thing, just a reminder that I have started to chronicle the history of my
Alternate Universe. The story is called Potter: A History, so please check it out.

Thanks again for being so patient and awesome.