Chapter Two
Auror Potter
"Alohomora!" Ron cried.
"Right. Because that's going to work." Hermione tapped the box on the desk in front of her with her wand. Shimmering green ribbons flew from the tip, wrapped around the box, turned red and then rushed through the keyhole and disappeared. It was a highly impressive performance, but the box remained just as closed as Ron's. "The solution won't be so simple. This is a challenge, Ron."
"You're not doing any better," Ron pointed out.
Hermione grimaced and shot another spell at the box. Harry suspected she had tried to blast it into smithereens. It did not work. The other students were all failing miserably as well. Each had a small wooden box with an elaborate Hogwarts crest before them and every single one of them was still closed. Flitwick was sitting behind his desk, grinning widely at them. He had promised there was a reward in each box, which they could keep if they actually manage to open it. Knowing Flitwick, it was probably sweets. And bragging rights, obviously.
"Don't know why he looks so smug." Ron glared at Flitwick. "Had he done his job properly, Harry wouldn't have nearly died yesterday."
"That's an unfair thing to say, Ron," Hermione said. "Quite a few people were trying to repair the castle this summer. They've missed something; it happens."
Harry snorted. "That's not how you felt yesterday."
Hermione blushed and shot another—unsuccessful—spell at the box. "I was upset. It had been a strange day."
That it had.
Ron grinned. "You were brilliant."
"I don't think Professor McGonagall agrees," Hermione said in a small voice, though she looked pleased.
Yesterday, McGonagall had shown up at the hospital wing while Pomfrey tended to Harry's injuries. Hermione had rounded on her immediately, declaring an oversight had been made and the castle was unsafe. Apparently, long ago the Hogwarts staircases had been Charmed to carry students where they wished to go. It had proven to be unsafe, however, and the stairs were hurriedly forced to stay put and were allowed to move only when no one was using them.
"One of the Charms must have been cancelled back in May. Has no one thought to make sure? Harry and Malfoy could have been seriously injured today. Or worse."
McGonagall's lips had thinned into a harsh line. "If you like, Miss Granger, you can all pack your trunks and leave. I'll be more than happy to secure the whole castle myself and make sure nothing has been missed. I expect you'll be able to come back and feel sufficiently safe—in a year or two."
That had shut Hermione up. She had looked so miserable, the Headmistress's expression had softened. "The school was opened too soon. I agree, Miss Granger. I will report this incident to the Board of Governors, and Professor Flitwick will secure the staircases. It seems to me, however..." McGonagall had glanced at Tommy Wright's still form, "that wayward charms are the least of our concern."
Harry agreed with that sentiment. Tommy Wright's condition was unchanged. He was alive but not waking up. Madam Pomfrey confessed she had not yet discovered which curse had been used and she feared that if she did not, he would not live much longer. Finding the caster of the curse would be of much help.
"You should have told McGonagall it was probably Malfoy," Ron had chastised him yesterday as they made their way to the Gryffindor Tower.
"But I don't know if that's true," Harry had countered. "And I accused Malfoy of cursing someone before, and McGonagall hadn't been very understanding."
"But you were right two years ago!"
He was, but that did not mean he was right now. If Tommy was selling fake—and expensive, apparently—potions to students, then he had more enemies than Goyle and Malfoy, perhaps some with a better motive. And Malfoy had looked shocked when they had found him. And so scared before, at the seventh floor. He must have seen something; he must know something. Harry had spent a long time staring at Malfoy's dot on the Marauder's Map yesterday. Malfoy had not ventured outside of his dormitory, doing no further mischief or attempting to run away. Ron had caught Harry staring at the Map, but he had merely shaken his head and refrained from commenting.
Irritated, Harry looked back down at his box. He had to stop thinking about Malfoy. The box was not helping. The tiny lettering on the Hogwarts crest proclaimed: Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus. The word Draco seemed to be mocking him. Harry glanced at the back of the room where Draco Malfoy was trying to open his box. He looks pale, Harry thought. But then again, Malfoy always looked pale.
Malfoy cast another series of spells in quick succession and then scowled. Harry looked away.
"I'll be a wretched Auror," he said.
Hermione reacted immediately. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. None of us have opened the box yet." She sounded frustrated. "This just proves my point: we all still have much to learn."
"I wasn't talking about the box. I meant yesterday; I should have cast Prior Incantato on Malfoy's wand. It would have told me whether or not Malfoy cursed Tommy."
Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes. "Oh."
"Can't you still do it?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook his head. "It's too late. The Reverse-Spell Effect is limited. Malfoy has cast too many spells since then."
Malfoy cast another one right then, as though mocking them.
"But..." Ron grimaced. "Then all Malfoy had to do yesterday was cast a bunch of spells after cursing Tommy and Prior Incantato would reveal nothing."
"In theory," Harry agreed. "But perhaps he didn't think of it. Or he didn't have time. Either way, I missed my chance."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Hermione said. "You were injured. You couldn't be expected to think clearly."
Harry snorted. "I can imagine my first Auror mission now: I'll get hurt, let the Dark Wizard run away and end up stuck in a cupboard because I won't be able to open the enchanted door."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. Mope, if you must. Just do it quietly." She cast another spell on the box.
A loud bang made them all jump in fright. And then the classroom dissolved into giggles at the sight of a red-faced Seamus Finnigan rubbing his wrist and Vanishing a large axe. He had apparently tried to split his box in half with brute force.
Professor Flitwick's head bobbed as he laughed. "There's no need for violence, I assure you. The right spell and the lid will pop open." He grinned again.
He did look too smug. Harry looked back at the box. It had to be a trick of some sort. Ron might have had a point: the solution was probably something simple. Something they would all be unlikely to think of, but would make sense in retrospect.
Harry narrowed his eyes. The Hogwarts crest was beginning to look suspicious. But perhaps, by now, Harry thought that everything with the word Draco on it was suspicious. On the other hand, Flitwick could have given them a bunch of boxes without the Hogwarts crest on them. It was meant either to distract them or to give them a clue. Hermione had already poked the crest with her wand but it did not help.
Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.
Harry stared. Then blinked. Oh. Oh. If you want someone to open their mouth, or lid, so to speak, there was a spell that never failed to achieve that. Harry tapped the box and muttered the incantation—very quietly so no one would hear his ridiculous idea if he was wrong. The box shuddered once, twice and the lid snapped open, flapping wildly until Harry cancelled the spell with Finite Incantatem. The box calmed down and remained open. A colourful wrapper was inside. It might have been a lollipop.
A small gasp made Harry look sideways. Hermione was staring at Harry's open box in shock. "How did you—?" She cut off and focused back on her box. "Don't tell me! I'll work it out myself." She started casting spells with renewed vigour.
"Tell me," Ron whispered.
Harry was about to, but Flitwick showed up by his side. "Excellent! Excellent, Mr Potter!" he exclaimed in his squeaky voice. "Now, if you don't mind, collect your reward and off with you."
"Yes, Professor." Harry gave Ron an apologetic look, picked up his reward—which was indeed a lollipop—and threw his bag over his shoulder.
As he turned to leave, he heard Ron hiss and Hermione sigh. "I doubt Parseltongue will work, Ron."
Harry could not help smiling. He was already at the door when he glanced back at Malfoy. Their eyes met but Malfoy quickly looked away.
Back to that, then.
The corridor was quiet and brightly lit by the afternoon sun. It illuminated the tiny specks of dust floating through the air. It reminded Harry he wanted to stop by the hospital wing and see if the cobwebs that had covered Tommy yesterday had returned. Pomfrey had failed to Vanish them and had removed them manually. Last Harry heard, which was this morning, they had not come back. Pomfrey could not explain why they were there in the first place, but they had actually made her hopeful because their presence might be able to help track down the curse cast on Tommy.
The trip to the hospital had to wait until after double Transfiguration. With barely five minutes left to the end of the lesson, Harry could do little but wait for Ron and Hermione. He leaned against the wall only to flinch a minute later when the classroom door flew open and Malfoy strode into the hallway.
Malfoy promptly scowled at him. "Don't look so surprised, Potter. Do you think you're the only one who realised the boxes are ticklish?"
"I'm more surprised you haven't opened your box sooner. I thought you were an expert on opening doors, boxes and cabinets."
Malfoy regarded him coolly, though his cheeks were tinted pink. "I never knew you appreciated my intellect. Or are you just easily impressed?"
"The curse cast on Tommy was very impressive."
For a moment, Harry was sure that Malfoy was about to punch him. Instead, Malfoy turned away. "I don't have to listen to this." Two seconds later, he changed his mind. He rounded on Harry, getting so close the tip of his shoes knocked against Harry's. The inch or two he had on Harry were more noticeable now, which was undoubtedly Malfoy's intention. Harry forced himself not to reach for his wand.
"I did not curse Tommy." Malfoy's voice was low. He sounded furious. "Why would I? Because he kicked me? Because he tricked Goyle? How thick are you? Goyle was an idiot and refused to listen to me. He had it coming. And for the record, when someone kicks me, I kick them back, and I might do it more than once just because I can, but I wouldn't curse them." Malfoy's pale grey eyes seemed darker now. "He's not a killer. Isn't that what you said at my trial? Did you change your mind? Or you didn't want to send me to Azkaban so you'd have something to do this year in Hogwarts? Is that it?"
"What I want, Malfoy," Harry said, "is for you to tell me the truth."
"I didn't curse him!"
"Why did you miss the match? What were you doing in the castle?"
"I told you I just wanted—"
"Stop lying!" Harry snapped. "You showed up on the seventh floor looking like you were running away from someone. You say you didn't curse Tommy, fine, but you know something. Tell me what it is."
Malfoy was shaking his head. "I don't know anything about the curse cast on Tommy."
"Then tell me what you do know."
"It's none of your business!" Malfoy had clearly had enough. He took a sharp step back as though he was ready to run away. Instinctively, Harry's hand shot out to grab Malfoy's upper arm and pull him closer. Malfoy froze, eyes going wide.
Harry spoke quietly. "Believe it or not, Malfoy, Tommy Wright isn't the only person I'm trying to help here."
Malfoy's cheeks were flushed. He was panting, as though he was so angry he could not breathe, but he remained obstinately quiet, doing nothing but staring at Harry.
He'll tell you. He will. Just keep eye contact.
The bell rang. Malfoy wrenched his arm free and shot backward as though burned. The Charms classroom burst open. Harry glanced at the door and when he looked back, Malfoy was already running away. He wouldn't tell me anything, anyway, Harry consoled himself. His heart was beating very fast and when Hermione showed up by his side, exclaiming, "Rubbish!" he almost jumped.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked. He hoped he did not look upset. His cheeks burned. He half-expected Hermione to notice, but she seemed to have other concerns.
"This whole lesson!" Hermione huffed. "Tickling Charm! Honestly. I thought we might actually learn something. But it was just a silly trick."
"Not that she's upset or anything," Ron said seriously.
"I'm not upset! It was just so random. What was the point of this lesson?"
"I assure you, Miss Granger, there was nothing pointless about this lesson."
Hermione whirled around to see Professor Flitwick smiling up at her. Embarrassed though she clearly was, she seemed unable to stop herself. "Sorry, Professor. Solving a problem at hand is always a useful exercise, I agree, but I don't see how this can help us in the future. If we are trying to open a door, I doubt we'll achieve it with such a simple spell or that we'll have a convenient crest to guide us."
Flitwick was grinning again. "You are quite mistaken," he said happily. "The Hogwarts crest was meant to help you, yes, but there's a reason why the Tickling Charm opened the box. Nothing random about it. I cast many Charms on those boxes, most of which you disarmed, it should be mentioned, but I daresay it would have been near impossible for anyone to disarm them all. I am rather an expert," he assured them. "The Tickling Charm's success is an error. I have aimed to achieve it, but many skilled enchanters had no such goals, and yet it happened. When one infuses an object with magic, too much magic, trying to protect it, the object in question might develop a certain degree of sentience. The caster protects it against intrusive spells and physical violence and believes his job his done. And then someone does nothing more than tickle it lightly and the enchanted object, having a mind of its own, imagines it has a mouth—and laughs. A chink in the armour that often goes unnoticed." Flitwick beamed at Hermione. "But well, we'll learn more about quirks of magic in our next lesson, which, I hope, you will find less pointless."
Hermione nodded, looking appropriately abashed; though, it was possible she was biting her lip only to stop herself from asking Flitwick to tell her more right this instant.
Flitwick gave them a little bow. "Miss Granger. Mr Weasley. Auror Potter," he added fondly and trotted away.
Harry beamed at his back. Hermione looked miserable, however. "I should have realised," she said sadly. "Did you know the bathroom door on the fourth floor open only if you tickle it on the right spot? I thought that was just someone's idea of a joke."
Ron frowned. "Er, that's the boys' bathroom, Hermione."
"Yes, well. Nonetheless. I should have opened that box."
"To be fair, you probably would have, if you'd had more time," Harry assured her. "Tricks or no tricks." He reached into his pocket and took out the lollipop. "Here, your needs are greater than mine."
She snorted and took it. "Well done, Harry. I really am proud of you."
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't praise him too much. He only ever focused on the crest because it had the name Draco on it and he's obsessed. Again."
"Hey!" Harry cried, indignant, even though that was technically true.
Hermione laughed. "That's a good point."
The thought seemed to cheer up both of them immensely. "Sore losers," he accused them, but that only made them laugh harder. The smiles slipped off their faces only after he reminded them they had double Transfiguration next and should hurry. Their new Transfiguration teacher, Justus Plunkett, was skilful at Transfiguration but unfortunately lacked talent as a teacher. His droning was likely to put students to sleep sooner than even Professor Binns could manage. On one memorable occasion, even Hermione's eyes had closed and her notes-taking had slowed, something Ron liked to remember with fondness.
It was therefore understandable, in Harry's opinion, that he spent most of today's never-ending lesson glancing at Malfoy, hoping to catch his eye. Malfoy never lifted his gaze to his, though, and after the lesson, he disappeared faster than Harry could blink.
For a moment, back in front of the Charms classroom, it had looked like Malfoy not only had something to confess, but it seemed that he would. But that was clearly too much to hope for.
Harry scanned the Slytherin table during dinner and Malfoy was not there. He's avoiding me. That was not how an innocent person would behave.
"Not obsessed at all," Ron said.
Harry hurriedly looked back to his plate. "Well, excuse me. There's a cursed kid lying in the hospital and I think Malfoy knows more than he's telling."
"About what?" Ginny asked, slipping onto the bench on the opposite side of the table.
Harry was about to reply, but Ron talked over him. "How did the meeting with Hooch go?"
Ginny grimaced. "It's a draw."
"The match?" Harry frowned. "I thought you'd have to play again."
Ginny dropped a large portion of shepherd's pie onto her plate. "Hooch said the Bludgers weren't cursed, so we get to keep all our points. And after examining the Omnioculars' recordings, she concluded that Harper really did catch the Snitch first."
"Bloody Harper," Ron grumbled.
Ginny looked at him sharply. "Haven't you heard? Harper is still in the hospital wing. A Bludger smashed his head. He's in a coma. Pomfrey says he'll live but... there might be some damage."
"Oh dear!" Hermione gasped. "What a horrible sport!"
"No need for that," Ron hurried to say. "This sort of thing doesn't happen that often."
"Even so. This needn't have happened at all!"
"With our Beaters out of commission," Ginny said, "he must have thought he was relatively safe from Bludgers and wasn't paying attention. It was an error of judgment. He relied on Slytherin Beaters too much."
Hermione huffed. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. It's a dangerous game with very little meaning."
Ginny and Ron looked mortally insulted, and though Harry shared their indignation, he was relieved when Parvati Patil tapped his shoulder, stopping what would undoubtedly turn into a heated discussion, which Harry had heard more times than he could count.
His relief was short-lived, however. Parvati handed him a note, her eyes red and puffy.
"It's the password to McGonagall's office. She wants to see you," she said haltingly.
"What happened?" Harry asked, staring at Parvati's pale face. McGonagall had promised she would let him know what happened with the stairs yesterday, the moment she found out, but now Harry was dreading something terrible had happened.
Parvati's eyes widened. "Nothing! I don't know. Something about the staircases, I think. I just... I'm not crying. I just have a cold." She sniffed. "A nasty cold." She turned and strode off, sniffing loudly. She even remembered to cough once.
Ron stared after her. "What was that about?"
Harry shook his head but Hermione sighed. "Oh, it's about Anthony, I'm positive."
Ron and Harry gave her blank looks. Ginny snorted into her pumpkin juice and Hermione shook her head at them. "Anthony Goldstein, her boyfriend. They've been fighting for weeks. Apparently, he's really jealous."
"He's a git," Ginny assured them. "She should dump him."
Hermione nodded. "And on top of that she's been at odds with Lavender, too," she added.
Ron said, "Oh," and stuffed a huge piece of shepherd's pie into his mouth, putting slightly too much effort into trying to appear uninterested in anything having to do with his ex-girlfriend. Hermione looked faintly amused by his display.
Harry's eyes found Lavender as he got up to leave. She was staring morosely at her plate, picking at her food. Her long blond hair covered the left side of her face and neck, concealing nasty scars left by Fenrir Greyback. Now that Harry thought about it, he realised she was alone more often than not, avoiding both Hermione and Parvati.
Harry pushed down a surge of pity, having no idea what to do with it.
Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts. "We'll wait for you at the tower."
Harry nodded and headed toward the exit. He somehow doubted that McGonagall called him to her office just to discuss the staircases. A part of him hoped that she had some good news about Tommy's condition, but that was wishful thinking, he knew. They had stopped by the hospital wing before dinner and Tommy was still asleep—and cobwebless, Harry had noted. It was doubtful something miraculous had happened in less than half an hour.
The stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmistress's office looked as grumpy as ever. Harry opened McGonagall's note and frowned. It contained only one word: Magic. Which was more than a little odd considering Parvati told him McGonagall had sent him the password. It would be a strange password, indeed. Nonetheless, that was what the note said and Harry opened his mouth to say it, when the gargoyle spoke.
"That which cannot be Vanished or Conjured; that cannot die and lives forever."
Harry scowled at the gargoyle and then at the note. McGonagall was using riddles and apparently thought Harry required the answer.
"Magic," Harry grumbled, indignant. He would have worked it out. One did not fail to know these things if one's friend was Hermione Granger. She had mentioned the laws of magic more times than necessary.
Harry climbed the winding steps, determined to point that out to McGonagall. However, when Harry entered her office, McGonagall's expression stopped him. Her face was lined and worried. Even the faces of her predecessors looked sombre. Though, they always did. Dumbledore's portrait, however, smiled at him, his blue eyes kind.
Harry looked back at McGonagall. "Professor? What's wrong?"
"Sit down, Harry," she said kindly, though she did not smile.
Harry sat on one of the sturdy chairs next to her desk, missing the squishy armchairs Dumbledore favoured.
McGonagall set her quill down and stared at him with a look that suggested she was about to give him some grave news. Harry braced himself.
"As you may know," McGonagall began, "Rowena Ravenclaw Charmed the Hogwarts staircases long ago and they are likely to move." She frowned, clearly disapproving such nonsense. "However, every staircase is equipped with a Sensory Charm. They can move as they like, but the moment someone steps on them, they are to stay put."
"And the Charms don't work anymore?" Harry asked. "Does that mean the Hogwarts staircases are no longer—"
McGonagall raised her arm and Harry fell silent.
"On the contrary, Harry, the Sensory Charms are still in place. All of them, including the one cast on the staircases that you and Mr Malfoy used. Professor Flitwick examined them yesterday and again today; he recognises his own spellwork. There is no doubt."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, those stairs did not move on their own; someone moved them. And I assure you, that is no easy task."
Harry thought he understood why McGonagall looked at him with so much worry. "Are you saying someone tried to kill me?" Or kill Malfoy?
"I fear so." She wrung her hands together. "Have you heard of Oswald Ardenton?"
Harry shook his head, surprised by the turn in conversation. "Oh wait." Something clicked in his brain. "I saw him at the trials. And read about him in the papers. He's a member of the Wizengamot." Harry only remembered him because Ardenton had very vocally demanded the highest sentence for every Death Eater. He had been most displeased when the Malfoys were freed. And he was the one who had suggested forming a special squad of Hit Wizards to hunt down the Death Eaters still on the loose. Hit Wizards were famous for interpreting "bring them to justice dead or alive" as "preferably dead." They had already killed Rabastan Lestrange.
"Then you know he's no friend to anyone who had been Voldemort's supporter. To put it mildly. He is also Tommy Wright's grandfather."
"Oh. So... you think someone tried to kill Tommy because of Ardenton?"
"I do not know what to think. Either one of you could have been the target and the other one was dealt with simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fact remains: at least one Dark Wizard has breached the castle and attacked Hogwarts students. The curse cast on Tommy was no child's trick. I have never seen Poppy fail to give a diagnosis."
It wasn't Malfoy, then; although... "Will there be an investigation? Do the Aurors have a suspect?" Harry did. A number of Death Eaters had disappeared after the Battle. It had been a chaotic day and the Aurors had made a mistake. When Fenrir Greyback's broken body had been found, his death had seemed imminent. The amount of damage was terrible. But the werewolf was more durable than anyone could have imagined. He had escaped and taken several Death Eaters with him. Two Aurors had lost their lives.
One Death Eater in particular worried Harry. They said Rodolphus Lestrange had gone mad after his wife had died. He had already murdered a witch who had had the misfortune of recognising him in Knockturn Alley, and he was the prime suspect in two Muggle murders. And he had been spotted again in London a mere month ago, right after he had suffered another blow—the loss of his brother.
The Lestranges had grown bold. And one of them was now dead, and Tommy Wright's grandfather was indirectly behind it. If Rodolphus had really cursed Tommy and Malfoy had seen him in the castle, what would Malfoy do? Rodolphus was not his blood, but he was family. And he probably knew more about the Malfoys than anyone. Exposing him would not have been easy. Lestrange could have blackmailed Malfoy into helping him.
"There's no investigation, I'm afraid." The frustration in McGonagall's tone was palpable. "The Board of Governors insists that students are likely to fall down the stairs and Tommy Wright should be examined by experts at St Mungo's. As though Poppy is not a better Healer than the lot of them put together," she sad furiously. "At least Oswald Ardenton has some sense. He was here this morning and agreed Tommy should stay in Poppy's care."
"Can't he do something? Or Kingsley?"
"They can do little while the Board of Governors insists this is merely my wild speculation. And they don't want to induce panic. Kingsley can arrange a safe place for you—" Harry opened his mouth to argue, but McGonagall continued, "and of course we agreed you'd never consent to it." She gave him a disdainful look. "What we need are Aurors on the school grounds, protecting students, but we'll never get them here without firm evidence that the school has been breached. Not even Kingsley can help; he cannot justify it when the Aurors are stretched thin as it is. We lost too many good people in the war."
Harry considered this. He could understand the lack of evidence would make it difficult for anyone to act. Hogwarts students were no strangers to injuries, hexes and even curses. One did not call Aurors for such things. They needed evidence. Or a witness.
"What if someone saw a Death Eater in the castle? They would have to send Aurors then, surely."
McGonagall stared at him. "I do hope you aren't suggesting we should lie?"
"No, of course not!" Harry said quickly. "I just... I think it's possible Malfoy has seen something."
"Has he said something?"
"No." Harry shifted in his chair. "But before we found Tommy, I saw Malfoy on the seventh floor. He looked like he was running away from something. Or someone. He was terrified."
McGonagall studied him. "If I may ask, what were you doing in the castle during the match? I saw you leave right at the beginning."
Harry wished he didn't have to explain that to McGonagall, of all people. He feared she would declare him obsessed just as Ron and Hermione had. He had little choice now, though, after she had asked. "I noticed Malfoy wasn't at the match, and I thought that was odd, so I went to find him."
McGonagall's frown deepened. "You suspected Malfoy of something before anything happened?"
"Yes, see, right before the match, Goyle was fighting with Tommy Wright in the Entrance Hall. Malfoy intervened and Tommy kicked him and ran. When I couldn't find either Malfoy or Tommy in the stands, I thought maybe Malfoy wanted to pay him back for humiliating him in front of everyone."
McGonagall did not call him obsessed. She looked more surprised than anything. "But then... you think Draco Malfoy cursed him?"
"Well, not anymore. Malfoy was on the stairs when they bucked. If he enchanted them to move, he would surely avoid them."
"No. You misunderstand, Harry. The stairs were not enchanted in such a way. If they had been, we would know. The only way they could have been moved is if they had been literally pushed by magic. By a Banishing Charm, for example. A strong one. Meaning, someone was there with you, out of sight."
"In that case... Malfoy was the one standing on the edge. He must have been the target. He either saw something, or had helped someone get into the castle, and they wanted to eliminate the witness."
"You think he's likely to help a Death Eater enter the school? I realise he did it in the past, but you spoke well of him at his trial."
Harry felt a stab of guilt. That had been Malfoy's argument as well. It was a good point, too.
"Because if you think that Draco Malfoy is a liability," McGonagall added, "then I am more than prepared to have him expelled."
"No!" Harry said quickly. "I don't... Professor, honestly, I don't know what he is and isn't likely to do. At this point, he could go either way. I spoke well of him, as you say, at his trial because I thought he deserved a chance, one he didn't get before. And it seems to me, that even if he had helped a Death Eater into the castle, he hadn't done it willingly. He'd been surrounded by these people all his life. He knows what they're capable of. He might have just been scared. Bullied, blackmailed into helping. I don't think he should be expelled; I think he should be helped."
McGonagall rubbed her temples. "Are these your words or Dumbledore's?"
Harry blinked. "Mine!" He glanced at Dumbledore's portrait, but Dumbledore was carefully examining his cuticles. "But, well, I suppose Professor Dumbledore would agree with me."
"Indeed." McGonagall sighed, but the look she gave him was full of affection. Harry had to look away. He wasn't sure whether the affection was meant for him or if he just reminded her of Dumbledore. Both possibilities gripped his heart. "Very well, then," McGonagall said and Harry dared to look up. "I'll speak with Mr Malfoy."
Harry nodded. He thought it would be rude to point out that Malfoy would be unlikely to speak. It must have shown on his face, however, because McGonagall added, "It's worth a try. I also owled these experts from St Mungo's to consult with Poppy. I hope, after they fail to diagnose Mr Wright as well, the Board will be more inclined to listen. In the meantime..." McGonagall fixed him with a glare and Harry knew what she would say next. "I expect you to be careful. We cannot know if, whoever was here, they have achieved what they wanted or they might yet come back. Perhaps you were not the target this time, but there are Dark Wizards out there who would like to see you dead. I would rather not say this to a student, but I am certain you are aware of it yourself. I wish... I wish you could have had at least one year of peace." She looked truly sad.
Harry shrugged. "I'd probably just get bored."
Her glare was pointed but her mouth twitched. "Off with you now," she said. "You should study. The wizarding world is short on Aurors. Do remember you are not one yet, however."
"I'll be careful," Harry said, smiling as he stood up. He hesitated a moment, but could not help himself. "You know, Professor, you didn't have to send me the answer to your riddle. Really."
McGonagall harrumphed. "My apologies, Mr Potter," she said solemnly.
Harry caught sight of Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes and, with a smile, he added, "Though, I would argue Love also fits."
McGonagall's lips pursed; she looked like she was trying not to smile. "In which case I would argue love is a form of magic."
Harry laughed. "Fair enough."
As he headed for the door, Harry heard Dumbledore say, "Why, Minerva, I never knew you were such a romantic."
Harry walked out, smiling. A student had been cursed, and that was horrible, but a tiny part of Harry felt hopeful. And useful again. As he descended the stairs, he could not help thinking it was a good thing he had come back to Hogwarts.
I might catch myself a few Death Eaters after all.
Chapter Three
Peevish Patrol
Harry's secret joy was short-lived. The reality was much more problematic than his fantastical plan to catch a stray Death Eater.
Saturday afternoon found him—against his better judgment—walking toward the Charms classroom with Ron and Hermione in tow. Panic had already spread through the Hogwarts castle and Harry feared that what he was about to do would only encourage it. But then again, there was a good chance that the students had not been panicking without cause and, as Hermione said, better safe than sorry.
It had started on Wednesday. Demelza Robins, who was supposed to meet with her boyfriend, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, after midnight, had been attacked by a cloaked and hooded figure. Mercifully, she had merely been Stunned, but after she had told her tale, the real trouble began. Suddenly, several other students claimed they, too, had seen a dark figure, hooded and cloaked, roaming around the castle. Two students said they had seen it on Tuesday night, near the place Demelza had later been Stunned. On Thursday, Jimmy Peaks told them he had seen a cloaked figure running up the stairs. "Those same stairs where someone tried to murder Harry Potter," he was quick to point out. And then another Hufflepuff insisted she had seen it, too, a little earlier, when she was returning to her common room, and not only had the figure raised a wand to curse her, but she had seen clearly beneath the hood and the figure's mouth was dripping with blood.
On Friday, Seamus Finnigan dubbed the cloaked person the Hufflepuff Vampire and, though most students had laughed, many looked terrified.
Harry was not overly concerned, at least not about that; it was all beginning to sound like a joke, but he was reluctant to dismiss it completely. Especially since Hermione pointed out that, even though it was unlikely that a Death Eater had broken into the castle and was lingering just so he could skulk around at night to yell "Boo!" at Hufflepuffs, it was interesting that the figure was most often placed near the Hufflepuff common room, and therefore, near the kitchens. And sneaking around at night to steal food was exactly the sort of thing a person living secretly on the Hogwarts grounds would be forced to do. Harry still found it unlikely but, unfortunately, he had no way of discovering the real truth, aside from camping out in front of the kitchens the whole night. Which he would have done, but McGonagall had already arranged for the teachers to patrol the castle, told Argus Filch to keep an eye on the Hufflepuff common room, and instructed the house-elves to set up guards. She was obviously taking no risks. She even berated the Hogwarts portraits, urging them to keep better watch, but that had probably been a bad idea. Ever since the war, the portraits had been proven to be quite paranoid and were seeing shadowy figures everywhere.
"Bloody map," Ron said as they were nearing the Charms classroom. He said that a lot and every time Harry felt a stab of sadness. His trusted Marauder's Map, which would have been more than useful in this situation, was apparently broken. It had become difficult to activate it, and even when he managed and the ink spread to draw the map of Hogwarts, the mapping was incomplete and inaccurate. Whole sections of the castle had been erased and the dots labelling the students were sparse or nonexistent.
Ron suggested someone had jinxed it, since it had apparently worked fine last Sunday, when Harry had used it to find Malfoy after the incident on the stairs. "Wormtail knew about the Map," he had said, "perhaps he told one of his fellows, and they took care of it so you wouldn't see they'd broken into the castle." But Harry could not see how someone could jinx the Map when it had been at the bottom of Harry's trunk, in the Gryffindor Tower. Or why wouldn't they aim to destroy it or steal it, rather than mostly disable it. "To mess with your mind!" Ron suggested, then laughed and admitted they needed a new theory.
Hermione had one that sounded more likely. Hogwarts castle had suffered serious damage. Whole sections of it had been blasted and had to be repaired. "Perhaps the Map is confused. Perhaps it needs to be... updated." Harry had not been entirely happy with that theory, either. It still did not explain why the Map had appeared to be working fine on Sunday, though admittedly Harry had only focused on Malfoy's dot. Perhaps it had already shown signs of deterioration and he had simply failed to notice it. But the Map had been able to update itself in the past without any problem: it had always shown the current map of Hogwarts, taking into an account all the classrooms and stairs that might have wandered off somewhere else in the meantime. "This is different, though," Hermione had said. "The Map only knows what your father and his friends knew. The Battle and the repairs that followed is a new variable that the Map knows nothing about."
In the end, Harry admitted defeat and carried the Map to Professor Flitwick, who had been utterly delighted by it. He had promised to try to fix it and not mention it to anyone. Though, he had pointed out it might be easier to make a new map rather than fix the old one. Harry would have preferred to see the old one fixed, instead, but was more than ready to take whatever was offered. He had suggested Flitwick speak with George Weasley, since he and Fred had worked out how to use the Map in the first place. Harry feared Flitwick might be insulted by the suggestion he needed help, but the tiny professor had been thrilled by the idea. "So very talented, those two," he had said, not without sadness.
The loss of the Map had been a blow. Harry had never felt so blind. He relied on it to help him find Malfoy, which had proven difficult as it was, since Malfoy was avoiding him. The only remaining option, as far as Harry could see, was to seize Malfoy by the collar, tie him up, drag him somewhere and question him until he confessed everything he knew. It was a fun thought and Harry fantasised about it several times, but in the end he decided it was the sort of thing Malfoy would do and Harry refused to stoop to his level. McGonagall had questioned Malfoy as promised, but the only thing Malfoy had confessed was that Harry Potter was harassing him and that if he did not stop, he would file an official complaint.
All that meant Harry had found out and achieved nothing. Tommy Wright was still in the hospital wing, showing no signs of improvement after the St Mungo's Healers stuffed him full of potions. The only comfort was that his condition had not deteriorated, either. Though, Madam Pomfrey liked to repeat that finding the person who had cast the curse was Tommy's best chance of recovery.
Harry stopped so abruptly in front of the Charms classroom, Hermione nearly ran into him.
"This is a terrible idea," he mourned. "What if all I'm doing is creating even more needless panic?"
"We've been through this, Harry," Hermione said. "A student has been cursed. This isn't needless, it's precaution. Honestly, we should have done this the moment we returned to the castle this year. It's not over, you said it yourself, not while Death Eaters are still out there."
Harry turned to look at her. His expression must have told her he needed more convincing because she added, "You can't wait for Flitwick to fix your map; this will be your map."
Harry looked back at the door, sighed and gripped the knob. Maybe the classroom will be empty.
It wasn't, though. It was filled with students. Harry was so surprised, he froze at the doorway. Ron gave him a little push and Harry quickly stepped inside, looking around at familiar faces. Every member of Dumbledore's Army still in Hogwarts had shown up, except Zacharias Smith, which was only to be expected. This did not include Dennis Creevey, however, whose parents had not allowed him to return after losing Colin in the Battle. But everyone else was there; Harry could hardly believe it. He had insisted Hermione should use enchanted Galleons rather then send messages by owl or deliver them orally; after all, this year there was no need to sneak around, but Harry had secretly hoped no one would notice their Galleon had activated, which would neatly sabotage Hermione's idea. It occurred to him, though, that Hermione might have sent owls without his knowledge. Even Lavender came and Harry was sure she would not, since she had so persistently avoided everyone; though, Harry noted she was sitting at the far side of the classroom, well away from Parvati and her boyfriend, Anthony Goldstein. Parvati was fortunately not crying today. She looked fairly pleased.
Ron and Hermione found a pair of unoccupied chairs and sat down with the rest of the students, leaving Harry standing next to the teacher's desk alone. Traitors, Harry fumed. He forced a smile, however, and said, "Thanks for coming."
"Is this about the Hufflepuff Vampire?" Seamus asked promptly.
The room erupted with laughter and objections, and a number of questions: "Has someone else been cursed?" "Has someone tried to kill you again?" "Did You-Know-Who return?"
Ron and Hermione alone remained silent. Hermione looked at Harry expectantly.
Harry grimaced and took out his wand. He flicked his wrist and a loud bang echoed through the room. Everyone jumped and fell silent at once.
Don't apologise, they'll just start again, Harry scolded himself after almost saying, "Sorry."
"Voldemort hasn't and won't come back. And I doubt very much there's a vampire in Hogwarts," he said.
"I told you there's no vampire." Susan Bones glared at Ernie McMillan as though Harry's word had settled the matter. Harry heard Ron snicker.
"Well, something's up," Dean Thomas said. "You didn't call us here to exchange recipes."
"I'd love to exchange recipes," Luna said. "Though, I wouldn't mind learning how to stake vampires, either."
"What?" Lavender cried suddenly, looking very worried. Harry wished she had not come. The talk of Death Eaters and Hogwarts intruders would merely upset her further. She's a Gryffindor, he reminded himself. She'll be fine.
"We won't be staking any vampires," Harry said. "They have rights, remember? Though, if Dean wants to share a pie recipe with us, I won't mind."
Several people laughed and Dean scowled at him.
"But you're right," Harry told Dean. "Something is up." Everyone was looking at him now, silent. "Someone cast a very Dark curse on Tommy Wright and apparently tried to kill me." Careful now. Harry was determined not to even mention Malfoy. Telling a bunch of students that Malfoy might be involved somehow would not help. One of them might end up cursing Malfoy and that was the last thing Harry wanted. He had shared his doubts with Ron and Hermione, but had no plans to share them with anyone else. "McGonagall thinks that no student could have cast that curse. We believe a Death Eater breached the castle last Sunday."
Parvati gasped.
"That's worse than a vampire," Neville said.
"It is," Harry agreed. "We're not sure about their motive—"
"They want to do you in!" Seamus said.
"Maybe. Tommy could've been the real target, though. His grandfather is an important Wizengamot member and a great enemy to the Death Eaters. Maybe this was meant to subdue him. We can't know for sure. What we do know is that if the castle has been breached once, it can happen again."
"I think I liked the recipes exchange idea better," Hannah said weakly.
Neville looked worried. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"I am," Harry said. "And there's more." He hated telling them this. It was merely a rumour, one that found them last night by way of Aberforth Dumbledore. "Apparently... the Carrows were spotted near Hogsmeade yesterday."
The silence was deafening. Hogwarts students would not have forgotten the Carrows. The torture they had inflicted on them all last year was still the cause of many nightmares.
"And I thought everyone was panicking without cause," Neville all but whispered.
"It's just a rumour," Harry added quickly. Though a troubling one. "A wizard claims he saw them both. But it wouldn't be the first time someone drank a little too much mead and made up ridiculous stories."
Some students looked a little less pale after that.
"As for Hogwarts students panicking without cause," Harry said. "That is the problem. People aren't panicking, they're just gossiping. No one is actually taking it seriously. If there's one thing that surprised me about this whole thing, it's the fact that so many students are casually strolling all over Hogwarts after midnight. And that's after people claimed Voldemort returned to do me in and there's a vampire hunting down students. Apparently, neither of these things have stopped anyone from wandering about."
"Well, you do know why, though?" Parvati asked.
"I do?"
"War's over, mate." Seamus grinned. "Love is in the air."
"Right." So people had been sneaking off to snog in secluded corners, Voldemort, vampires and Death Eaters be dammed. "Well, it's not over. Everyone seems to think they're safe now, and I wish that were true, but it's not. Just look at Tommy Wright."
"So we're hunting Death Eaters?" Neville beamed. "I'm in." Murmurs of agreement and cries of "Me too!" echoed around the room.
"No," Harry said, though he was pleased to see so many eager faces. "I called you here to ask you to hunt down students, not Death Eaters."
Luna frowned. "That sounds much harder than hunting Death Eaters."
Harry could not help smiling. "Yes, it probably will be."
"Wait!" Hannah looked upset. "What are you saying, exactly?"
"I'm saying, I need you to help me keep the students in their respective common rooms after curfew. Apparently, prefects aren't taking this seriously enough, either."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Neville looked much braver when he suggested going after Death Eaters. Harry sympathised.
"Place extra protection on the common room doors," he said. "Check the dormitories, count the students. There are quite a few of us here. Enough to keep an eye on everyone in our houses. You just have to remember how many students there are in each year. If we divide it amongst ourselves—"
"Wait!" Hannah said again, a bit hysterical now. "But... so, let's say we do that. We place charms and count students and then realise several of them are missing. Then what?"
"You team up and go looking for them." That statement earned Harry some odd looks.
"And when we find them? Are we supposed to drag them back?"
"If need be."
"But, Harry," Seamus said slowly, as though speaking to a small child. "You want us to sneak around at night, find couples and drag them back to their common rooms? Blimey! You might as well call us Cockblocker's Army."
The classroom burst into laughter. Harry kept a straight face with difficulty. "If you like," he said. He caught sight of Ginny with her hand high in the air. "Yes?" The laughter was dying down.
"I will happily hunt down every student and drag them wherever you want," Ginny assured him. "But... er, won't that put all of us out past curfew, which isn't allowed. I mean, we don't have any authority. Other students don't have to listen to us. We're not prefects. We'll just be... bullies. And others can report us."
"Good point!" Seamus said. He was clearly none too pleased with Harry's plan.
"Everything I told you today, McGonagall will tell the Head Girl and Boy, and all the prefects tomorrow. We've discussed this; stricter rules were her idea. I offered you as additional backup." Harry smiled at them.
"And she agreed?" Neville asked just as Hannah said, "Well, you could have mentioned that sooner." They exchanged a glance and grinned at each other.
"She will," Harry said. "I think I was rather convincing."
"Think again." Seamus still looked doubtful, apparently not eager to be a cockblocker.
"Look," Harry said. "This will be a hassle and it won't make you popular among other students. And honestly, there's a real possibility that whoever cursed Tommy is long gone and won't be coming back. And the Carrows... who knows if they were really in Hogsmeade or not? But, if there's a slightest chance that another Hogwarts student could get hurt, tell me that's not worth the bother. You've protected Hogwarts once, you can do it again. One day we might be able to relax, but not yet. And it seems that's exactly what we all did. Too soon."
Anthony Goldstein raised his hand. Parvati looked inexplicably annoyed by that. Anthony grinned at Harry. "We'll get prefect privileges, right? We're official now? I don't see anything wrong with that."
Parvati spoke before Harry could. "Yes, well, but I'm sure we can't just go around and hex random students."
Anthony argued he was not suggesting that and Harry spoke over him. "Of course not! You'll be allowed to be out of your common rooms until eleven, but not alone. You must have a partner. You'll be able to file reports against resisting students and have them lose points and get detention. That will give you authority, but you cannot use force. If there's trouble, find a professor to handle it."
"Cockblocking snitches," Seamus mourned.
"Seamus," Harry said testily, "you don't have to do it."
"I didn't say I won't do it," Seamus hurried to say. "I'm just not happy about it."
"Good. Neither am I." Harry glanced at Anthony. "Please remember you're protecting students. Well, that is, if you agree to do this." No one said a thing and Harry added, "That was a question." Ron and Hermione raised their hands and everyone else soon followed. Harry breathed a little easier. "Excellent! We can work on a schedule now. And Hermione wanted to place an additional charm on the Galleons."
Hermione hurriedly took out a piece of parchment and her wand. "Yes," she said. "If everyone could give me their Galleon, please. I can Charm them so we can send messages to a specific person, not just the whole group. And I already drew a chart, assigning students to every member. For example, one can be in charge of first and second-year boys and the other..."
"Sorry, Hermione," Neville said, "but I just wanted to ask..." He looked at Harry. "What about Malfoy?"
Harry stiffened. "What about him?"
"Well, we all saw him fighting with that kid and then..."
"Draco Malfoy has nothing to do with this," Harry said sharply. The last thing he needed was for everyone to turn against Malfoy and harass him. "He was with me on the stairs when they moved. He nearly died himself. Which reminds me..." Harry aimed to change the subject as quickly as possible. "We are also protecting Slytherin students. Protecting, not looking for a way to deduct points." Except Ginny and Luna, all of them were here attending N.E.W.T. preparation lessons and as such could not earn or lose house points, but that did not mean no one cared which house would win the cup.
A few people looked indignant, as though insulted by Harry's chastising, or perhaps they were disappointed. This might be a problem.
"But who will make sure they are all accounted for?" Parvati asked. "I mean, we don't have any Slytherins here." Harry noticed Lavender look at Parvati sharply. Parvati's boyfriend, Anthony, seemed displeased by her concern for Slytherins, too.
"They have prefects," Harry reminded her. "It will have to do." For now.
The rest of the meeting went by peacefully, with Hermione boring them all to death with her charts. Another person complained that Tommy was cursed in broad daylight and Harry had pointed out that the school was mostly empty at that time because of the match, but he agreed they should keep an eye on any possible stragglers during daytime as well.
Despite the fact that he was pleased his friends had agreed to guard the castle, Harry found himself brooding over Seamus's complaints. It was unfair they would have to destroy the little bits of happiness of Hogwarts students and police their free time, but they were being so careless.
So were you, a little voice reminded him. And that was true, but the mere thought of a first-year student skulking about, trying to catch Death Eaters or find a Basilisk, or tempting fate in any way, seemed horrifying. Harry would have hated an army of older students trying to stop him at every turn. And he would hate them even more if they had tried to stop him snogging his girlfriend.
But he was not the one deciding things, then. He was not the person responsible, no matter how much he had liked to pretend he was. But now... By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good-bye for the present. Dumbledore had told him that. He told Harry he had a choice. And Harry had made it. He came back. He came back and defeated Voldemort and saved lives. He could not stop now. That was why he came back. It is important to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. And Harry meant to do just that. After all that had happened, if a Hogwarts student lost their life and Harry had done nothing, then he might as well have stayed at King's Cross station.
An hour later, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed toward the Gryffindor Tower. Neville lingered, speaking to Hannah, and then hurried after them.
Hermione beamed at him when he caught up. "Someone looks happy."
Neville coughed, abashed. "Yes, well." Then he lowered his voice. "She's quite brilliant. Do you know I found a Flitterbloom—with a blue blossom!—on my bedside table the other day? I've wanted one for ages. They are very rare. Hannah must have sent it. She's denying it, but she's the only one I've told." He sighed happily. "Brilliant!" Then he frowned, looking ahead. "Oh, there's Lavender. She's my partner. Better catch up with her and arrange tonight's patrol." He took a few steps forward then stopped suddenly. "Harry," he said seriously, "we won't let anyone else get hurt."
"Er, okay. Thanks."
Neville nodded, thumped Harry's back and ran off.
"Oh my, someone's hyperactive," Hermione commented.
Harry nodded, staring at Neville's retreating back. Love really was in the air.
-o-
Things went surprisingly well over the next few days. The Carrows had not breached the castle, nor were they seen again, and neither was the Hufflepuff Vampire. At least, none of the vampire sightings seemed ever remotely plausible. Whenever someone claimed they had seen a dark figure with bloodied lips in the castle, Harry instantly dismissed it.
The D.A. had little trouble finding wandering students, which, in turn, had not resisted when taken back to their common rooms. Hermione was quick to point out they had more luck than Head Boy and Girl and assorted prefects. Neville had proven to be especially resourceful and had found students hiding in the most unlikely places.
Harry was relatively pleased. Dumbledore's Army had taken things seriously and most of the students as well, after the Headmistress urged everyone to be careful on Sunday at dinnertime.
The only problem was the Slytherins. Though they had seemed subdued before Dumbledore's Army started their patrols, on their very first night it was obvious the Slytherins were purposely trying to sabotage them. The Slytherin prefects claimed they did their rounds and found no missing students, but the D.A. had found an alarming number of them out past curfew. When found, they would go back to their common room without resistance, but some fifteen minutes later, the same students would pop up somewhere else in the school, forcing the D.A. members to escort them back yet again.
Curiously, no one had ever found Draco Malfoy out past curfew. If the Slytherins had organised themselves to give as much trouble as they could to the D.A., Malfoy seemed not to be a part of it.
Harry also suspected Harper, the Slytherin Seeker, was not a part of the organised sabotage. After he had recovered from his accident, he had developed a tendency to wander off a lot. At times, he appeared to be entirely lost, staring blankly ahead, and popping up all over the school in random locations. On one occasion, they had found him in the Gryffindor common room, and no one, including Harper, could explain how he got there. Several people insisted Harper was feigning confusion and was there to murder them while they slept. His parents were Dark Wizards, after all, and Voldemort's supporters, Seamus claimed. Whether that was true, Harry did not know, but even the Slytherin prefects seemed exasperated by Harper's behaviour, and they had begun to report his disappearance. Pomfrey had told them his brain had suffered some damage, but promised he would recover fully in time.
The Slytherins were rapidly losing house points, however, so Harry hoped they would give up soon. He did think of another way to stop their spiteful behaviour, but was wary of suggesting it.
On Thursday morning, snow unexpectedly covered the Hogwarts grounds and lifted everyone's spirits, though the upcoming Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match was the cause of some trepidation. Someone had hexed the Hufflepuff Seeker, Jane Bradshaw, and turned her feet into jelly. She was still recovering in the hospital wing. The teachers feared that was an ill omen and this match, too, would end bloody.
Hannah had burst into tears when they told her about Jane, insisting she had failed to protect the Hufflepuff students as promised. But Neville, as well as Harry, had pointed out that if they were aiming to stop the students from ever hexing each other, they might as well confiscate everyone's wands.
Although, after the incident, Harry had to admit that if a Death Eater broke into the castle, intent on cursing someone, he could easily succeed. His only comfort was the belief that the Death Eater in question would not be as bold as to curse a student in broad daylight, while the castle was swarming with students and teachers. The hexing students, on the other hand, had the luxury of losing themselves in the crowd after the deed.
That Friday afternoon, Harry was sitting alone on one of the squishy armchairs by the fire. Ron and Hermione had gone to the library to study, which meant they were off somewhere, snogging, because Ron had looked entirely too cheerful when he had waved Harry goodbye. Harry took the opportunity to stare blankly at his Potions essay and mourn his lack of enthusiasm for the subject.
The portrait hole burst open and Harry glanced up, hoping for a distraction. Ginny climbed inside and smiled when she spotted him.
"Don't you have lessons?" Harry asked when she sat on the armchair next to him.
"Nasty nosebleed." Ginny sighed dramatically. "I had to run to the hospital wing."
Harry grinned. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were still as popular as they were useful.
Ginny glanced at Harry's essay. "Ugh. Potions. I ran away from that." She stood up. "I better go do something productive, instead. Napping sounds promising."
Harry bit his lip, telling himself to shut up. Ginny had already turned when Harry said, "Wait!"
She looked at him expectantly, expression bright.
"Er, I just..." Harry began but lost his nerve quickly. Instead of asking what he wanted, he said, "I thought maybe we could go out, play some Quidditch. I'm dying of boredom here."
If Ginny was surprised by the question, she did not show it. "Better not. What if someone sees me?"
"Right. Good point."
"Next time." Ginny smiled and took a step back.
"Wait!"
Ginny paused again, biting her lip. "Yes?"
"Are we..." Harry steeled himself. "Ginny, are we okay?"
She hesitated. "Of course we're okay, Harry."
It was hard to believe her. "You've been avoiding me. For months now." Harry tried hard not to sound accusing. He was the one who had ended things. She had the right to avoid him. But knowing that did not help much. He missed her. He missed the way she would comfort him with soft words or punch his shoulder and glare at him when he was being an idiot.
Ginny shoved her hands into her pockets and then kicked the carpeted floor with her foot, reminding Harry strongly of Ron. She slumped back into the armchair with a sigh. "We're okay, Harry. We are. Or will be. I just..." She looked at him steadily. "It's over. I know that. And I've given up. This time for good." Her voice lowered. "It's just easier to remember that when I'm not around you."
Harry's stomach twisted. "Oh. Of course. Okay." He wished he could fix things, but he had tried that in the past and it had not worked. His relationship with Ginny had started like a bright spark. Harry had been so hopeful. But then, somehow, the spark had died. It turned into a thick blanket you could wrap over yourself and feel cosy and safe, but never warm enough. There was no fire to put a flush to his cheeks and heat him up down to his toes. Harry had told himself it was enough, it was better than nothing, but then he realised Ginny deserved better. She deserved fire, too.
Of course, it had been a mistake telling Ginny that. Especially the part about her being a blanket. As well as telling her she deserved better. "If you want to break up with me, Harry, then break up with me," she had said. "But don't you dare tell me it's for my own good. I'll decide what's good for me." The weeks after their break up had been miserable. At least she was speaking to him again and treating him kindly, if distantly. That should have been enough. More than he could have hoped for.
Ginny punched his knee suddenly, so hard Harry feared she had busted his kneecap.
Harry looked up in surprise. Ginny was on her feet. "Blimey, Harry! Do you practice the kicked-puppy look in front of your mirror every day? Come on, then. Let's go play Quidditch."
"Er, it's fine. Really." Harry rubbed his knee. "I just thought... It doesn't matter."
Ginny crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. "No. You asked. Now we'll play Quidditch. You can guard the hoops and I'll throw Quaffles at you."
"You mean the hoops. You'll throw Quaffles in the hoops."
"Will I?"
Harry shook his head and stood up. Ginny had superb aiming skills, which meant that if she aimed the Quaffle at Harry's head, that was where it would end up. But still, it beat staring at his Potions essay.
They fetched their cloaks and brooms and headed outside. Their conversation revolved around Quidditch and tomorrow's match and Harry soon forgot his gloomy thoughts.
When they opened the Hogwarts main door, cold air and snow greeted them, together with Draco Malfoy. Snowflakes melted in Malfoy's blond, windswept hair, barely visible among pale strands. His cheeks were flushed, his lips red and his scowl deep. He muttered a curse and pushed between them, nearly knocking Ginny backward along the way.
Ginny raised an eyebrow at his back, nonplussed. "I think he's growing fond of us."
"Definitely. He actually brushed against our clothes."
"Our dirty blood-traitor clothes."
With a laugh, they stepped outside into the cold. Harry could not help wondering what Malfoy was doing outside. He'd been flying, obviously, but it was interesting that he had been alone. Though, now that Harry thought about it, Malfoy was alone more often than not.
The grounds were beautiful, purely white and peaceful, with ripples of untouched snow covering rocks and old yellow grass. Harry forgot all about Malfoy and cursed students and Death Eaters when he rose into the air. I should fly more often. He resolved to do so. Everything looked smaller from above: the castle, the lake, his worries.
Ginny and he spent the rest of the afternoon playing Quidditch and racing around the pitch. Ginny had not thrown Quaffles at his head, but she had scored more goals than Harry would have liked, and in one awkward moment, after Harry said, "Blimey! It's cold," she replied with, "I bet you could use a blanket," and then a Quaffle hit Harry in the chest and knocked the air out of his lungs.
But as they walked back toward the castle, exhausted and frozen, Ginny looked much happier and more relaxed.
They missed dinner, but Hermione greeted them with sandwiches when they returned to the common room.
"We went to the kitchens," Hermione said. "And I took the opportunity to ask the house-elves if they noticed anything strange. Food gone missing, that sort of thing."
"I thought the Hufflepuff Vampire had gone underground," Ginny said.
"Yes, well, I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask."
"And?" Harry prompted.
"If there's missing food, they haven't noticed. But they did have something to say." Hermione bit her lip and looked at Ron.
"Oh, just tell him," Ron said.
Harry held his breath.
"Well, er, I'm not sure what this means, but... they said that they usually have trouble keeping the classrooms, and especially the trophy room, neat and tidy, because Peeves keeps showing up and makes a huge mess. But lately, that hasn't been happening. And then I, that is we, thought about it and spoke to several students and some ghosts and... no one has seen Peeves for a while. And that's very unlike him. It appears as though he has... vanished."
"Peeves?" Harry frowned. "You're saying, what? Someone kidnapped him? Destroyed him? No one can get rid of Peeves. Not even Dumbledore could."
"I know," Hermione said. "But with Dumbledore's Army roaming the halls every night, you'd think someone would have seen him. Or the ghosts! Sir Nicholas always kept an eye on him, as well as the Bloody Baron. But they haven't seen him either."
"That's..." Harry was not sure how he felt about this. Peeves was a part of the school. He was indestructible. Annoying and downright insufferable, but always loyal to Hogwarts. He had fought with them in the Battle. "Unsettling."
"Is it?" Ron grimaced. "I never really liked him, I have to say."
"Well, no one did, but that's beside the point," Hermione said. "He's been in the castle since the founding. How could he just vanish?"
"Maybe he'll turn up," Ginny said. "Maybe someone stole his hat and he's sulking."
"Maybe," Harry said.
But that night Harry could not sleep. So many familiar things seemed to have vanished. The Room of Requirement, the Map, and now Peeves. Harry turned in his bed, his thoughts running in circles until he finally fell into a fitful sleep.
TBC