Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry received a return visit from Tracey and Blaise shortly after Granger left. Harry was quieter this time, only inquiring about the Department of Mysteries agents. It was disquieting that neither Blaise nor Tracey remembered the two agents. After their genuine confession, and it was genuine for neither Blaise nor Tracey could concoct such a story whereby neither of them saw Beta-Xi or Chi-Gamma, Harry did not ask again, knowing there was much larger magic at work here.

Even more maddening was that it was Ian Davis who returned his wand, still cautious but also claiming that there were no Department of Mysteries agents that accompanied him. Harry surmised that it must have been a well done Obliviation but did not press on the situation. It would be no use trying to convince three people of something they allegedly didn't see.

They departed for the night, Tracey promising to return early in the morning when Pomfrey would discharge him from the Hospital Wing. He took the foul onion tasting potion again, dreading the next cycle as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. It was like poison, only it was designed to replenish him instead of killing him. Still, a slow death might have been better than tasting it that rancid potion again.

Alone at last, he played idly with his wand, not casting a spell for Pomfrey forbid it until he was fully healed, but thinking about the two men from the DoM. It was curious that they would go through such lengths for a series of inquiries that culminated in a Legilimency attack. What was their purpose? Why were they there? Most importantly, why did they presumably Obliviate everyone who might have seen them in Hogwarts? It was a curious thing and one he resolved to bring up with Granger again should she still wish to speak with him.

He might have been harsh in his delivery, but he honestly wanted nothing to do with that conversation. There was enough to worry about without having to rehash the sins of the past. What was done was done and bringing it up again would be reopening an old wound that Harry had long learned to close. It was sealed shut as was every emotion associated with it. At least, that's what he told himself. He knew that his return was only a month away and Vernon would be waiting for him at King's Cross.

Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed that thought into the back of his mind, willing himself to focus on the remaining task at hand.

There was nothing he could do about the two men from the Department of Mysteries, but there was another mystery that was slowly starting to unravel for him. Ever since his insightful conversation with Luna, Harry had been reviewing the year in his head. There were far too many things that went beyond the realm of coincidence. The conception was obviously the beating at the hands of the four bullies. Harry identified the four bullies as definitely Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ron Weasley, and Padma Patil. He had yet to discover the identity of the mysterious fourth student.

In theory, they all had apt motivations for his beating. Justin, it seemed, was particularly violent in nature. He had succeeded not only in convincing the others to go through with the task but displayed above average cunning as he no doubt planted the seed of Longbottom's distrust as well as uniting the rest of the Houses against Slytherin during the match in the forest. Yet, Harry could find nothing he overtly did to the Hufflepuff that would have spurned such motivation. He could never remember shaming him in battle nor did he even remember speaking more than a few sentences to the Hufflepuff.

Ron Weasley would have been the more obvious antagonist, but Granger had repeatedly claimed that Weasley was not someone with a proclivity to violence. While the flaming red head was prone to verbal spouts of anger, he wasn't really the type to back it up during duels nor did he ever project any claim of physical violence bar the occasional hallway shove. Even then, he looked uncomfortable speaking with Justin while the Slytherins were held captive in the forest. Harry could understand Weasley's motivations more than the others, but he trusted Granger's instincts on this one.

Even more maddening was Padma Patil's involvement. Harry was positive that he had never done anything untoward the Ravenclaw girl. It might have been sexist of him to think that she wouldn't done anything violent, but it just didn't seem to fit her type as well. She was an academic, far more studious than her Divination obsessed sister and near the top of her class as well. While she was more than competent during duels, she fought with a practicality that wasn't shown in Justin's brutality or Ron's recklessness. Yet, it was clear from her comfort with Justin in the forest that she was the lone female involved in his beating. Perhaps he simply didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

That still left an unknown fourth attacker that wasn't present during the conversations between Justin and company in the forest. The Hufflepuff had made no mention of the fourth attacker nor did he converse with anyone about the planning of it. Harry had to conclude that the fourth attacker must have been from Slytherin given their relative anonymity during the plot to take down Slytherin. Perhaps this unknown fourth attacker was unable to betray his own House but able to attack a single member of it. There were several suspects on the list, chief among them Malfoy, but Harry thought the rich blond didn't have the mouth to keep shut about it. Malfoy also seemed genuinely upset while they were captured. If he was an actor, he was an excellent one.

That left the possibility of Nott, Crabbe, or Goyle. From his own memories, Harry knew it was neither Crabbe nor Goyle for neither of them fit the physical profile of the average sized bullies. That left the possibility of Nott. Harry was aware that Nott had an undercurrent of malevolence about him. He inquired far too much about particular spells that could inflict physical damage and his spell work reflected that carnality. Still, like Padma, Harry found little motivation for Nott.

Clasping his head in his hands, Harry exhaled slowly, trying to wrap up his mind around the origin of these attacks. It was dark and he was the lone resident of the Hospital Wing, save for Pomfrey's presence in her private dormitory near the back of the room. Harry was still too weak to leave the bed side and he had to stay up to take the horrible potions. Given the isolation and silence, it was a surprise that Harry wasn't asleep, but there were too many thoughts running through his head.

Justin. Ron. Padma. Who? Justin. Ron. Padma. Who? Justin. Ron. Padma. Who?

He repeated the stanza in his head, hoping for some divine epiphany that never came. Instead of focusing on the fourth attacker, Harry tried to think of something that would bind the three known attackers together. It wasn't socio-economic status for Justin was a Half-Blood with a relatively solid middle income family while Padma was a Pureblood with a upper middle class family that didn't rely on previous generations of wealth. Weasley, of course, was the poorest of them all.

It obviously had nothing to do with House obligations as they were each from separate Houses. Once again, the only common thread he could find was that Harry had never lost to either of them during House matches or individual duels. Yet, that was true of almost all of the Third Year students bar for Granger and a few others that had gotten the better of him when he was starting out. Harry concluded that there was no common link between them, but if there was no common link between them, why did they join together to inflict pain upon him?

Harry had the urge to cast a spell. Any spell. He was frustrated, unable to derive a true motivation behind the respective attackers. He held his wand tightly, murmuring incantations underneath his breath as he sought for a reason to cast a spell. But there was no reason as there was no reason for those four people to join together and attack him. What could convince them? Rather, who could convince them? Who was capable of such scheming and plots and plans?

"Lumos."

Harry watched the small ball of light rise and illuminate his bed. As he looked up at it, a proverbial light bulb clicked within his own mind for as the light rose, it cast shadows on the curtains and those shadows were all connected to the single source of light. There was a reason they all moved as one. It was diabolical and dangerous to even think about it, but it made more sense to Harry than anything else he could think of.

He had to find Hermione.

* * * * * *

"Where's Tracey?" Harry asked as he returned to the Slytherin Common Room.

Pomfrey granted his release after a night of fitful sleep, deeming him recovered enough to return to lessons. Harry had a mountain of homework waiting for him, but his first task was finding Granger so he could speak to her about his theory. He would have involved Tracey and Blaise on the idea, but he wanted to keep it minimal due to its sensitive and somewhat hazardous nature. He was surprised to find that Tracey was not there to greet him upon his release and sought for her in the Common Room, only to find that she was absent from there as well.

"Haven't seen her all day. Thought she was going to get you this morning?" Blaise replied, taking a seat next to Harry by the fireplace.

"She was supposed to. That's unlike her." Harry crossed his arms, trying to think of where Tracey had gone. Perhaps he was just being self-centered, thinking that she should have been there to greet him. Still, it was highly unlike her not to stick to her word.

"Maybe she got caught up on something. Trow had us writing these massive reviews on the forest match, analyzing how we could have performed better and everything. He's killing us!" Blaise moaned.

"Hope you wrote a good paper."

"It was sub par. I did describe in fantastical detail your spell though. You think he'll give me bonus points for knowing the origins and effects of your spell?"

"I believe that's called cheating."

"Hardly cheating. You were the one that told me after all."

Harry shook his head, trying hard to remember why he trusted Blaise with so much. The black Slytherin always seemed on the cusp of revealing every one of his gory details, hopping back and forth from ambivalent caring to maniacal freewheeling. Everything with Blaise was an act, from his jokes and japes to his money mongering and bets. It was all a game to Blaise and he was the only player.

"Keep an eye out for Tracey, would you? I have to find Granger, but then I need to talk to you two," Harry ordered.

"More trouble afoot?" Blaise leaned in close, looking around him to make sure the coast was clear.

"In a sense. I need to confirm something with her. First, I'm famished. Got some time before Transfiguration and I'm tired of all the sop that Pomfrey has been feeding me." Harry stood up, ready to go to the Great Hall.

"Low blood sugar. Far more dangerous than they would have us believe." Blaise nodded as he started for the door.

At the Great Hall, Harry sat down and had his first proper meal in what was likely a week. He didn't miss the furtive glances thrown his way nor did he ignore the wide berth given to him by every student that was under their Fifth Year. The older students didn't show such respect, but they still took a beat to glance upon him as if he had grown a second head. Whispers and rumors traveled fast around Hogwarts and if this first day back in the halls proved to be the norm, Harry was in for a long day.

"What have they been saying?" Harry asked as he munched on some food.

"Oh, plenty of things," Blaise said as he waved around his fork like it was a wand. "All the usual rumors going around. He's great. He's a ghost. He's Merlin. He's the Dark Lord. He's a fraud. He's a liar. He made all of it up. I keep them circulating because its fun to tell them that you're actually a werewolf and that's why Lupin was brought here."

Harry actually chucked at the one as Blaise finally landed a joke. He looked around, noting the absence of Granger from the Gryffindor table as well. He hoped that she wasn't too upset with him over his denial to talk about his uncle. There were far more important matters at hand. Idly, he spotted Ron Weasley instead and found that the red headed boy ducked his head when he made eye contact.

"Curious," Harry said.

"About what?" Blaise asked.

"How's everyone treating the Gryffindors? Tracey mentioned that they were going to attack Granger again last night."

"Pretty terribly to be honest. Even though the older ones at Gryffindor were giving them a hard time. Don't know what you said to Granger all those times in that cave of yours, but it took a lot to get her to convince the Gryffindors to go through with your plan. Speaking of stingy Gryffindors..."

Professor McGonagall was making her way towards them, several stacks of parchment floating behind her like a pack of well trained dogs. She stopped at every Third Year student, handing them a paper and issuing instructions with a stern gaze that said, "You will follow my every word."

At last, she arrived at the duo of Harry and Blaise and of course Blaise took the opportunity to lead with a joke.

"Professor McGonagall! How kind of you to join us. Might I take those off your wand?" Blaise stood up and offered to relieve her of the stack of parchments floating behind her.

"Sit down, Mr. Zabini and kindly keep your chatter to a minimum."

Blaise still smiled as he sat, seemingly happy to be cowed by McGonagall. Harry curiously peeked at the stack of papers, wondering what she was doing. With a flick of her wand, McGonagall procured a parchment that quite obviously read Harry Potter along the top. She summoned a similar one that was for Blaise and laid it before them.

Course Track for Harry J. Potter, Slytherin

"Of course," Harry muttered to himself.

At the end of everyone's Third Year, there was a determination that was a combination of personal choice and faculty input that determined the specific academic track for each student. At Hogwarts, there were four general tracks that were specific to the school. It was Snape's decision to start specializing at an early age instead of continuing general studies. There were four main tracks that specific specialties within each track that students could select to cater their studies towards their desires.

General Battle was the most popular track for the students. It generally comprised of doubling up on Battle class and participating in classes that were geared directly towards improving their skills in duels and matches. Since their school was primarily focused on this military regiment, a good bulk of students usually chose General Battle or had the faculty recommended them for it. Because of the large amount of students admitted for that track, it also had the unfortunate stigma of being the easy track. Most of the students that chose that track either graduated to a life in the Ministry, either working as an Auror or at some other capacity that would be useful for them.

Leadership, the track Harry likely suspected he would choose, was the advanced version of General Battle. In the Leadership track, it was the Strategy class that received a double helping instead of Battle class. There was generally a small admittance for the Leadership track as the name itself confined the role to very few. The select few in the Leadership track were generally chosen for higher internships in Wizengamot offices at the Ministry or recruited at their Seventh Year for private companies that could use their diversified skills.

Even less people were placed into the Magical Theory track. This highly specialized track had no more than five people from each year. It was reserved for the brightest of the students, advanced in Charms and Transfiguration as well as highly competent in Battle, Strategy, and Dueling. There was a rigorous grading requirement for it, notably exceptionally high grades in each discipline. Harry suspected that this would be Granger's calling.

Lastly, there was the Medical track. It required outstanding work in Potions as well as a recommendation from Slughorn himself. While high marks in Battle and Dueling were given regard, there was a stronger focus on Charms as well as Creatures. An understanding of both of those allowed for placement in the Medical track. This track was often seen as those who struggled in Battle class but excelled in other areas. It was also lucrative in that Pomfrey was one of the most well renowned doctors in all of England and each student was almost always placed at St. Mungo's or a similarly prestigious hospital.

"I forgot all about this," Blaise confessed.

"A fact that doesn't surprise me," McGonagall dryly responded. "You are to have this submitted by the first of May. You will be given your corresponding track with your summer letter. Please remember to fill out your desired track as well as a personal essay on why you would want to choose that track. If you are unsure as to which track you would like to choose, please seek advice from faculty. Also remember that a significant portion of the decision is determined from faculty input as well."

"What do you think I'm good for, Professor?" Blaise cheekily asked.

"I am not inclined to comment, but I dare say that any track where I have to see as little of you as possible would be beneficial for all parties."

"You break my heart, Professor!"

"You will recover. That I am sure of. Have either of you seen Ms. Davis?" McGonagall asked.

"Haven't seen her all day," Blaise answered straightly for once.

Fishing out one more parchment, she handed it to Harry. "Make sure she receives this. I know that you will come upon her some time today. Relay my instructions as well, Mr. Potter."

With that, she left, moving down the line as she repeated the instructions for the Third Years that were at the Great Hall. Harry stored Tracey's application behind his own, reading over the list and requirements of each track. There was a questionnaire as well as space to write a small essay. After that, there was a signature that was magically binding for each student.

"General Battle it is for me," Blaise noted as he quickly filled out the application.

"I thought you would surely go for Magical Theory."

"Your humor is as bland as your hair, Harry."

Harry chuckled, finding his joke quite funny. Looking down at the parchment, he pulled out a quill and marked down the appropriate boxes. Lastly, he came upon the chosen track section. He didn't deliberate long, knowing that he wanted to take the Leadership track. He was sure that his excellent marks in Battle, Dueling, and Strategy would help him and he fancied that Trow was probably one of the main faculty inputs for this track. He didn't quite know what Tracey would choose though.

"Say, are you coming to watch the House Cup later?" Blaise asked as he filed the application into his bag. "Reckon you'll find Granger there."

"I kind of need her before that. What time is it going to be?"

"Eight at the Room of Requirement. Admission starts at 7:30 so I reckon that if we want good seats, we're going to have to get there early. By the way, I've started early betting. Do you want to put money down on how long Gryffindor lasts? I have them at 4:1 that they'll last longer than two of the years."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass."

That explained Granger's absence. He had lost a great deal of time while and unconscious and completely forgot that Gryffindor would be competing in the House Cup given their victory over Slytherin during the last House match. She was probably holed in strategy sessions, trying to hammer out all the possibilities that Snape might throw at them. The House Cup was one of the two large events at the end of the year. It was arguably more popular than the Hogwarts Trophy in that each year could cheer for their respective classmates.

Harry settled upon the fact that it was unlikely he would find Granger that day and any discussion of his theory behind his attacks would do nothing more than distract her from the task at hand. Tracey would no doubt join them for Transfiguration which left Harry with nothing more to do than to return to the Common Room to drop off his track application and prepare for Transfiguration with McGonagall.

Yet, when he and Blaise arrived in the Transfiguration classroom, Tracey was no where to be found nor did she appear after the bell rang.

* * * * * * *

"Come on up! Come on up! 3 to 2 on the Sixth Year Hufflepuffs!" Blaise shouted at the top of his lungs as the students filed in.

The RoR was designed for any requirement and the House Cup would often have the seats magically hovering over the battle ground. There were enchantments that didn't allow interaction between those in dueling and those spectating and those dueling couldn't even see the spectators. It allowed those who were watching the opportunity to observe the match in real time and proved to be an excitable affair when the House Cup rolled around.

Harry paid no attention to Blaise's clamoring, wondering why his friend liked to spin the wheels of his gambling machine even though he was already preposterously rich due to the inheritance of each of his mother's dead husbands. Moving down the rows, Harry was relieved to see his reputation proceed him as several students clambered out of his path. For once, the legend around him worked to his advantage.

"Pansy!" Harry called out as he spotted the aristocratic Slytherin girl.

She turned her head, waving him over so he could sit down in the space besides her. Pansy Parkinson was genuinely regarded as rude and snobbish, even to those in Slytherin, but she made time for those who could help her.

"Looking for Tracey?" Pansy presumptively asked.

"Yeah. Have you seen her?"

Pansy shook her head. "I didn't wake up early this morning, but she was already gone by the time I made it out of bed."

Harry scratched his head in frustration. "Do you have any idea where she went? Something she said last night, maybe?"

Pansy shrugged again, unavailable to offer any help. "Last thing she said was that you were going to be discharged tomorrow morning from the Hospital Wing. I assumed she was going to see you out, but maybe she got caught up in something else?"

They exchanged a few more cursory questions about his health, but Harry left once he realized that neither Pansy nor Daphne, who was sitting a few seats down, had any idea where Tracey was. He was sure that he would find his best friend at the House Cup. Almost the whole school was in attendance. It didn't make any sense for her not to show up.

The crowd roared to life as the fog cleared and they saw the stage set before them. Harry stopped to take a look at what scenario Snape had drawn up for the House Cup. In previous years, there had been some outlandish scenarios. During Harry's first year, Slytherin had participated in a more modern setting of buildings that resembled modern day London. Of course, Harry had attempted to subvert the situation by charging head on at the Fifth Year Gryffindors, but that failed miserably. In his second year, Snape had drawn up a sprawling desert that had one student collapse from the arid air and sand.

This year, it was set in a wetland or a swamp. Harry couldn't decide which way he wanted to classify it as there looked to be more water than land. He could only assume that it was oppressively humid within the scenario and that the sparse land that remained was thick with mud. Squinting his eyes, Harry spotted the Third Year Gryffindors at the far end of the swamp. They were quickly moving already and Harry had no doubt that Granger had formed a plan of some sorts.

Tearing his eyes away from the swamp, Harry navigated his way through the crowd until he had reached Blaise again. Blaise was still busy taking last minute bets of winners and potential places while creating new odds for different scenarios as well. Harry tugged him by the arm though, intent on getting his attention.

"What is it, Harry? I'm a bit busy here," Blaise took a Galleon from some bloke that was betting on the First Year Gryffindors.

"No one's seen Tracey since this morning." Harry had to yell in his ear over the loud roar of the crowd as two groups converged in the opening minutes.

Blaise either didn't care or was too preoccupied with the betting to take serious notice. "I'm sure she'll turn up around here somewhere! Maybe she just got caught up with work or pulled in with one of the teachers!"

"But everyone is here..."

Harry trailed off as he stood up, ignoring the cries from behind him to sit down. He ran up to the top bleacher, looking around but unable to find his target. There were so many students that had arrived to watch the House Cup, so Harry took another scan of the crowd, specifically looking for the yellow badge of Hufflepuff.

"He's here. He has to be here." Harry was trying to will himself to believe, but the longer his search went on, the less likely it was that he was right.

A flash of yellow caught his eye and his heart leaped to his throat in anticipation. Yet, it wasn't the Hufflepuff he wanted. Ernie MacMillan sat there, cheering on the Sixth Year and Second Year Hufflepuffs. It proved that the Hufflepuff house had shown up in force to get behind their House.

"Go get 'em Diggory!" Ernie yelled.

Justin was nowhere to be found.

The crowd cheered as the First Year Gryffindors were knocked out of contention, leaving only the Fourth Year Gryffindors as their remaining representative in the House Cup. Harry scrambled down, dodging the sitting students and plaintively ignoring the admonishment that he should watch where he was going. Blaise was busy counting the money in his lock safe when Harry roughly grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Oi! Watch it here!" Blaise exclaimed as he dropped a Sickle.

Leaning down to whisper in his ear, Harry whispered, "Tracey's gone!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Listen, mate, I know! She'll come -"

Harry interrupted him ferociously, tired of Blaise's lackadaisical attitude.

"So is Finch-Fletchley."

Blaise might not have cared about a lot of things, but his eyes widened as the implication fell in place. He waved over to Pete, the little First Year Slytherin who had taken a knock from Hufflepuff earlier in the year. Handing him over the lock safe with the money with explicit orders not to take any more bets, Blaise turned towards Harry and for the first time, Harry saw fear in his eyes.

"Let's go," Blaise said.

Harry hurried towards the exit, weaving in and out as the crowd cheered and booed. He took one last look back at the swamp, noticing that the Third Year Gryffindors were still involved in the match. Though he wish he could have stayed and watched how Granger handled the match, there were far more important matters to attend to first.

* * * * * *

"Think, Blaise. Where would he go?"

"Not where would he go. Where can he go? Where can he go that he would have time to hide a student all day without anyone else noticing?"

"The Hufflepuff dormitories?"

"He would have to be excellent at Concealing Spells to do that. Couple that with the fact that someone would have noticed a Slytherin in the Common Room, I find it unlikely."

"Obviously not the Room. It's being used."

"What about the cave? Does he know about the cave?"

"No one can get into the cave but Granger."

"The Forbidden Forest?"

"It's a possibility, but Pansy said that Tracey went to sleep and left in the morning. Are you telling me that no one would see Finch-Fletchley walking out an involuntary Tracey all the way to the Forest? We're not allowed out there."

"Where else then? Where else?"

They were rushing through the hallways, not having a particular place in mind. Harry felt as if he were gravitating towards the Slytherin Common Room and knew it was a mistake. Justin had to have taken here somewhere where there was relatively no traffic or some unused classroom. There were so many options within Hogwarts that it was futile to search the place room by room.

"We have to go to Snape," Blaise concluded, pacing back and forth. "We have to tell him! This has gotten out of hand, Harry. Attacking each other is one thing, but we haven't seen Tracey all day and Justin...Justin's dangerous."

"We can't."

"Don't be stupid, Harry. We have to!"

"Blaise, we can't."

"Harry, this is Tracey we're talking about here. He's the headmaster. If we don't do anything, then -"

"WE CAN'T! WE CAN'T!"

Harry's voice echoed through the hallways, but he doubted anyone heard it since almost everyone was watching the House Cup. Harry pulled at his hair, trying to make sense of the situation and regain control. He blamed himself for not acting sooner, for not realizing why Tracey would possibly be gone all day without seeing him. He wasn't being self-centered. He knew in his heart of hearts that Tracey wouldn't miss him getting out of the Hospital Wing because she cared about him. Now, who knew what Justin wanted with her.

He looked at Blaise who was seemingly in silent shock over Harry's outburst.

"Snape is a part of all this."

Blaise looked confounded. "What?!"

"Snape has his hands deep in all of this. That's what I was going to tell Granger! That's what I was going to tell you and Tracey. He has to be the one setting all of this up!"

"Harry, that's barmey. He's the headmaster. Why would he...why would anyone..."

"Because it's a test. It's all a test. He said so himself in the beginning of the year. You must be held to a different standard."

"But why?! Why would he do that?"

"Don't you think if I knew, I wouldn't be sitting here wondering where Tracey is," Harry snapped.

Blaise trailed off, bowing his head as he soaked in the information. Harry wracked his brain for all the possible locations, trying to narrow it down to a concrete number of choices, but his emotions were getting the better of him. He couldn't think straight.

"Shit," Blaise muttered. "Shit, shit, shit."

"What is it?" Harry agitatedly asked.

Blaise gulped, looking at Harry with genuine fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I....I was one of the ones that attacked you."

Harry stopped, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. Blaise looked terrified, not even moving for his wand as if he were bracing for impact. Harry struggled to process the information, his mind already addled from Tracey's disappearance.

"You said Snape was behind this. And...and...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it makes...makes sense to me. You have to believe me, I didn't even know what I was doing! I don't even remember being there! I was there and then I was back in my room and I swear to Merlin, Harry. I swear to the four Founders and Salazaar himself that I don't remember a thing of it."

Harry was shell shocked, his mouth agape and his head buzzing.

"You're the fourth?"

"I wanted to tell you! I just...oh Merlin, fuck me. Fuck me, this is my fault. If I would've told you then you would've known how bad Justin is and fuck me. Fuck."

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to use Occlumency to calm himself down, but it wasn't his strong suit to clear his mind. Blaise was rambling on, cursing as he tried to apologize, but Harry was zoned out. He had to find Tracey, but Blaise was the fourth. If Blaise was the fourth, why did he do it? Could he trust Blaise? Why was Snape doing this? Where is Tracey? Why did he do it? Where is Tracey? Why Blaise? Where is Tracey?

"Blaise, stop. Stop."

Blaise quieted, looking down in shame as he slumped against a wall. Harry laid his head against the concrete, desperately trying to stay the flood of questions.

"Do you know anything about Justin that might help us find Tracey?"

"No," Blaise said quietly. "He's not right in the head, Harry. There's something wrong with him."

It was a quiet night for the sound was closeted within the Room of Requirement. The clouds hung overhead and in the halls, the ghosts outnumbered the living. Harry tried to wrap his brain around any potential areas that Justin might have taken her, but there was nothing obvious.

"Where would I bring her?" Harry murmured to himself.

"Not in the dormitories. Can't get to the Forbidden Forest. A classroom is too easy to find. It has to be someplace no one goes."

"Somewhere no one goes."

"There's one place," Blaise sat up, pushing off the ground to get to his feet. "I've made exchanges there. It's as good of a place as any."

"Where?"

"The girl's loo on the third floor. The one where Moaning Myrtle is. No one goes there."

They were two flights above and it was a few minutes walk, but there was no time to waste. Harry immediately broke into a dead sprint, his legs aching and stiff from all of his time in the Hospital Wing, but he ignored the cramps. Blaise was right on his heels and the clobber of their footsteps ringed loudly within the empty hallways. Few words were exchanged between them as Harry prioritized Tracey's safety over Blaise's treachery. There would be time to deal with that later.

Breathing heavily, they came to a stop as they approached the corridor that housed the haunted bathroom. Harry peeked around the corner, making sure that Justin wasn't waiting outside with an obvious trap. He still felt weak, not entirely up too snuff for a duel, but he reckoned he had enough energy to deal with Finch-Fletchley.

"You think he's in there?" Blaise asked, also bent over and panting.

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly.

Years of training and dueling were kicking in as Harry analyzed the situation. Most likely, they could overpower Justin two on one. Even though he wasn't at optimal strength, he knew enough of Justin's tendencies and considered himself the superior duelist. Furthermore, the addition of Blaise went a long way of alleviating his fears and though the newest piece of information unnerved him, there was no reason for Blaise to accompany him unless it was an elaborate trap.

Harry looked at his best friend, sweating and trying to catch his breathe and it didn't take long to believe him. It just wasn't Blaise's signature to resort to physical violence. Blaise was a planner, calculating and running probabilities of situations. He hated getting his hands dirty. He always used his little First and Second year minions to run his tasks for him. Most importantly, Harry saw no motivation for Blaise to attack him. Blaise didn't seek Harry's glory or ranking on the Master List. Blaise was concerned about money and he had lots more of it than Harry.

"Are you with me?"

Blaise looked up at him, the whites of his eyes contrasting darkly against his skin. He was a little taller than Harry and would no doubt be much taller as they grew, but for now he stood of roughly equal height to him.

Blaise Zabini nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"Don't ever be afraid to come to me, Blaise."

Blaise diverted his eyes, shamefully looking at the ground. He recovered after a moment because that's who he was. Resilient and always looking for an opportunity.

"Let's do this before I piss my pants," Blaise said.

Using hand signals that were well known from their time in Battle class, they approached the door, ready to use a tactic that they previously employed during a specific Battle class scenario that had them breaching doors. Blaise would lead through the door, casting a shield to deflect an initial curse while Harry would quickly file behind him, taking advantage of the slight lull and fanning out towards the corner. Blaise would then quickly engage the initial target while Harry cleared the rest of the room.

"Watch for Tracey," Harry reminded him with a soft undertone.

Blaise gave a curt nod and leaned against the wall adjacent to the door, his hand on the handle. At Harry's signal, he opened and casted Protego as soon as he entered. When there was no accompanying offensive spell, he quickly moved within the doorway, making room for Harry to enter. With one hand on Blaise's back, Harry advanced and moved to the right, his wand raised and ready for battle.

Yet, they encountered no resistance and Harry already felt the disappointment. When it became clear that no one was going to attack them, Blaise lowered his Protego and Harry let his hand drop to the side. After making a pass around the circular sink, Harry approached the stalls. The first one was empty and Blaise cleared the second stall as well. Their feet splashed against the flooded ground, dirt and grime evidence of the lack of care. As Harry approached the fourth stall, he pushed against the door only to find that it didn't budge.

Blaise immediately raised his wand, looking at the stall with some trepidation. Harry pointed his finger down, indicating that he wanted Blaise to look and see if there was someone within. Blaise slowly crouched down, his wand at the ready. As he placed his hands against the sopping wet ground, Blaise immediately jumped up.

"Harry, open it! Open it! Alohamora!"

Taking matters into his own hands, Blaise opened the locked stall door and Harry at once saw the reason behind his consternation.

"TRACEY!"

Harry grabbed her legs, trying to alleviate the pressure of the rope tied around her neck. Her body was lifeless, limbs unmoving as she dangled there like moss hanging from a tree. Her legs were cold and placid to the touch as Harry rose to his tip toes, trying desperately to avoid the strangulation from the rope.

"Diffindo!" Blaise cast the spell as the rope was cut and Tracey came tumbling down, Harry stumbling as he fought to keep her upright. Blaise assisted him, grabbing Tracey's arms as they lowered her to the wet concrete

Leaning his ear down to her mouth, Harry looked up at Blaise and said, "She's not breathing."

Tracey's head lolled to the side, her skin pale but there was still a warmth to the touch. It had not been long.

Taking a deep breath, Harry lowered his mouth down to hers, pinching her lips so that there was easy access for him. He exhaled deeply into her mouth, trying to fill her lungs with air. He took another deep breath and exhaled into her mouth again, desperate to feel any sort of reaction.

"Harry, what are you doing?!" Blaise bewilderedly asked, kneeling down next to her.

"It's CPR, I think. I've seen it in Muggle movies. Don't you know CPR? Fuck, I don't know if this is right!"

"Are you a wizard or not?! Spirant!"

Tracey came back to life, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Harry clutched at her, helping her sit up and rubbing her arms to bring back some warmth. He rocked her back and forth, burying his head into her hair as Tracey's breathing slowly resumed to a normal rate. His trousers were soaked from kneeling on the wet ground, but he didn't care.

"Finch-Fletchley," she finally gasped.

"We know," Blaise grimly replied.

Harry pulled back, finally letting her go from his grasp. "We're sorry, Tracey. We should have known. We should have looked for you earlier!"

Tracey shook her head, still dazed and sporting a bruise around her neck from the rope.

"He's still close."

"How close?"

"He was waiting until the House Cup started," Tracey struggled to speak, her throat sore and her voice scratchy. "Said he was going to the Hospital Wing to say that he found me dead."

Harry looked at Blaise, not wanting to let go of Tracey. Blaise simply nodded, moving towards the girl and grasping her by the shoulders. Harry shot him a thankful look and let go of her gingerly, not wanting her to fall to the ground.

"Go," Blaise said softly. "Get him."

Harry took one last look at Tracey, but she was already leaning against Blaise's chest, rubbing the bruise around her neck.

Jumping up, Harry walked quickly towards the door. He cast a look back, watching as Blaise whispered gentle murmurs to Tracey. She could barely keep herself up and it was only Blaise's strong arms that kept her sitting somewhat upright. Her eyes were closed as she leaned against his chest, but Harry could still see the bruises circled around her neck, the harsh blues looking unfamiliar on her usual porcelain skin.

He left the bathroom, idly wondering where Moaning Myrtle had gone. The Hospital Wing was across the castle, far away from the abandoned bathroom, but it would take little effort for Justin to get there. There was no one else in the hallways, but judging from Tracey's state, Harry knew the Hufflepuff would take his time to ensure that when he told Pomfrey that Tracey was dead, she would actually be so.

Breaking into a sprint again, Harry raced through the hallways, jumping the stairs two at a time to reach Justin before he could get to the Hospital Wing. There was a thought that he should have just left Justin incriminate himself as Tracey was well and obviously alive, but Harry wanted more. He wanted to quench the suddenly ravenous thirst of revenge. He could still see the bruises in his mind's eye, plain for all to see. Justin wasn't even capable of confronting Harry face on, so he reverted to attacking the weakest link. The word anger wasn't enough to describe what he felt. His hands were numb and his brain had blocked out all other thoughts of Snape or Blaise's involvement or anything Hogwarts related.

Harry was going to find Justin Finch-Fletchley and he was going to kill him.

* * * * *

A/N: Just a couple of chapters until the end of Third Year. Hope everyone has enjoyed it so far and I'd just like to ask about what you guys are theorizing as to what will happen next year? I already have it plotted out, but I'm interested in perspectives based upon what you've read so far. A couple of people have asked, but I plan for this story to finish at around 75-100 chapters. Obviously that could change and is varied, but that's the rough length I have for it. Keep note that how long it took to finish Third Year (roughly 25 chapters) is NOT indicative of how long each year will be. Some will be longer. Some will be shorter.

Thanks again for the great reviews everyone. Keep them coming and I hope to hear from you soon.

Estimated Update Time: 16 days

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