Chapter Two

October, or the Month of Fear

It was barely into October. Harry and Ron were finally starting to get back to some sense of familiarity, there entire days no longer consumed with thoughts of their lost friend. The school had slowly recovered as well, many of the Gryffindors uniting under their hate of Umbridge. She did not even let them practice spells! If anyone was an anti-Hermione, it was that woman. Things were normal though, with class, Quidditch, and inter-House rivalry. Then everything went to shit again.

Colin Creevey was walking back up from the dungeons were he had been developing his photos. He knew that there was a spell to take care of such a task but he did not have mastery of it yet. So, he developed all of his photos my hand. He could not develop the one's currently in his camera, partially because he still had film left and partially because his other photos were not done developing. So Colin was heading back up to Gryffindor tower to work on some of his homework before going to bed. Colin turned sharply as he heard a clang from behind him and he turned fast enough to see one of the suits of armor still shaking. "Who's there," he called, using his best Gryffindor voice. Silence was his answer. Shrugging, he continued on, despite the feeling that he was being watched. No one was watching him, he convinced himself. He would be perfectly fine. Someone was watching him of course, but he wouldn't know it. After the mistake with the armor, the person didn't make another mistake, stalking the boy quietly. The fourth year did not even seem to notice as his follower got within feet of him. The person pulled an object out of their sleeve and it glinted in the dim moonlight. Bringing its hand up, the person brought the knife into the side of Colin's neck, twisting viciously. The boy fell quickly. The offender grabbed the boy's camera as the boy frantically pressed at his neck, attempting to keep all of his blood inside. A small, disdainful humph was all the boy heard as he died on the stairs.

Unfortunately, Dennis, Colin's second year brother, was the one to find his body. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had to drag the poor boy away. The death had occurred right on the main stairs and aurors had to direct student traffic away from the sight, causing many students to be late for class. Having already used back routes to go to class, Harry and Ron were unaware of the event until they arrived outside of Potions class. All of the fifth years were talking about it. "Colin, really," asked Lavender.

"Yeah," said Seamus, "right on the staircase. Poor little kid didn't deserve getting knifed in the throat." Harry stayed silent, his throat swelling up at the thought of another death. Cedric, Hermione, and Colin…Harry had already experienced enough death for a life time. He did not wish to experience any more. Ron's jaw clenched but otherwise there was no direct indication that he even knew of the event. Snape simply stared at them all for several seconds as they took their seats.

"As I am sure all of you are aware, Mister Colin Creevey was murdered today. However, class must go on and I hope that your grief will not greatly affect your school work throughout the day." Then he started class. Harry spent the rest of the day worried; two deaths in the course of a month? He was very worried, unsure of what this boded about the future. Harry even noticed that Snape was stopping some of his insults short. Next was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge. She was wearing her best toad smile, sipping tea as the students filed in.

"It has come to my attention," she started as everyone sat down, "that many of you question why we are not practicing spells. It is because, dear children, you have nothing to fear and nothing you would need to fight off with such spells."

"That's a lie." Today, Harry could not take any more of the crap, so he spoke up.

"Excuse me my dear," she asked brightly and Harry had to resist the urge to punch her in the face. People were dying.

"Someone in school is killing students and Voldemort is out there, murdering people."

"He Who Must Not Be Named has not come back dear. You made the whole thing up." Harry was truly enraged now, by her ignorance and stupidity.

"He has returned and he's killing people. We need to be able to protect ourselves."

"Detention," she cried, "tonight, my office, at eight." She continued lecturing and Harry kept quiet, his nails digging into his palms. He sighed when she dismissed them, picking up his bags and leaving with Ron at his side.

"Harry," someone yelled and Harry turned. Cho was jogging to catch up with his, her bag almost falling off of her shoulder. Ron whispered something about seeing Harry later but he was already barely paying attention. "I'm glad I caught up with you. I just heard that Umbridge gave you detention?"

"Uh, yeah, she said I made up the story of Voldemort coming back." Cho flinched at the name but nodded.

"She's thick, but um, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." She looked at her feet and Harry couldn't ponder what was going on. "Would you, maybe, want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? I mean, I know it's really bad timing and all, with Collin this morning, and it might be canceled but…"

"Sure, I'll go with you." They both beamed before standing awkwardly for a moment. "I'll see you later okay?"

"Okay," said Cho breathlessly as Harry left. Harry smiled to himself. He finally had a date with Cho and he had a desire to run to the tower to tell Ron and Hermione. Harry's good mood disappeared when he realized that he could not tell Hermione; she wasn't there to tell her. He got back to the tower and slouched in an armchair next to Ron.

"So," he questioned.

"We're going to Hogsmeade together this weekend."

"Then why do you look so glum?"

"I couldn't wait to tell Hermione." They were both quiet then, lost in thought about their lost friend. Harry sighed. "We better get started on this homework." Ron nodded as they dug into their bags. After Hermione passed Harry and Ron had started studying regularly and got started on their homework early. Their grades drastically approved. Harry was even passing Potions. They had an unspoken agreement that it was in honor of Hermione. Harry liked to believe that she was proud of them for it. Ron had already suggested trying to get S.P.E.W. out of its three, now two, person membership. They felt at the moment that it was too much work. Harry didn't mention it but he knew that sometimes Ron went to the library and just sat between the bookshelves, remembering her. Harry himself owned one of her scarves and he would simply take it out from time to time and stare at the ceiling, remembering her advice and her bone crushing hugs. Harry also knew that her murder had hit Ron the hardest. Hogsmeade didn't come fast enough.

Harry had decided that the day had been one of the weirdest that he had ever had when he walked into Umbridge's office. The entire thing was pink and the wall be covered in cat plates. Harry then decided that the day got weirder. Umbridge was already sitting, sipping tea as Harry took his seat. "Now my dear, you are going to do lines." Harry noticed the parchment on his small table. He started to reach into his bag for his quill when Umbridge stopped him. "No dear, you are going to use one of mine." She handed him the quill and asked him to begin.

"But I don't have any ink Professor."

"You won't need any dear." A little confused, Harry began his lines, constantly writing 'I must not tell lies'. It turned out he didn't need ink because the quill wrote in Harry's own blood, but Harry gritted his teeth and continued writing, quite glad that Hogsmeade was only days away. Cho met him in Great Hall for breakfast and they left somewhat awkwardly. Ron had 'decided' that he was going to go with Dean and Seamus, though Harry knew that his best friend was just trying to give him some privacy. Cho grabbed his hand and Harry looked at her.

"Come on, I know a place we can go." She took off down the street. Hiding a smile, Harry followed her. She stopped in front of a place that Harry had never entered before. It was called Madame Puddifoot's. Harry noticed that the place seemed to be full of glitter and pink. He flinched slightly and she looked at him. "What?"

"The pink reminds me of Umbridge." Cho's eyes widened slightly in understanding and she nodded.

"We can just go to the three broomsticks." They headed back and entered the crowded pub. Cho snatched seats as Harry got them butterbeers, weaving his way through the thick crowd that always seemed present. He sat down across from her, passing her a butterbeer. She smiled at him. Harry took off his gloves, setting him on the table, taking a sip of his drink. Cho frowned. "What happened to your hand?" Harry tried to move it under the table quickly but Cho caught his hand with her seeker reflexes and pulled the limb towards her. "Harry what happened?" Harry yanked his hand back, hiding it under the table as he stared into his butterbeer.

"I don't want to talk about it." He heard Cho sniffled and Harry looked up to find that she was crying. Digging into his pocket quickly, Harry handed her a handkerchief. "I just…"

"I'm just so worried! Two people are dead, and Cedric's gone, and now you're injured…"

"Cho, I'm just a little uncomfortable about it. It's not that I don't want to tell you, I'm just self-conscious."

"Really," she sniffled.

"Yeah," he muttered and she looked at him expectantly. Harry sighed. "It's from detention with Umbridge."

"What does it say?"

"I must not tell lies." She tried to hand him back his handkerchief but he insisted she keep it. The rest of the day passed comfortably. They were walking through the streets when rain started to fall. They quickly hid underneath a roof, as did many others in the street. Cho ended up pressed against Harry. She batted her eyelashes at him and he swallowed. Cho leant in, slowly, and kissed him. It was the perfect first kiss, tender and passionate, with a combination of too much lip pressing and tongue, with moments of not enough tongue and uncertainty. They parted, brushing heavily. The rest of their date passed uneventfully. Cho left at dinner, insisting that she wasn't hungry and that she had some studying to do in the library. Harry smiled at her as she walked off.

The noise from the Great Hall echoed throughout the hallways, even down towards the library. Cho walked slowly, enjoying her good mood from the day. A surprisingly low number of people noticed when someone slipped out of the crowd and followed her. Those that did notice simply assumed that their fellow student was also going to the library. Cho was trying to focus on the books she needed to get but Harry's small smile kept sneaking into her mind, thoroughly distracting her. Then she would have to start her list again. The noise from the Great Hall masked her follower's passage and even if she had been aware, she would have assumed the same as the others. Cho heard her name and turned only to feel a sharp pain in her chest as she turned. She looked down at the knife firmly grasped in the person's hand. She looked up, staring at the face before her. "You," Cho whispered.

"Me."