Chapter Nine - The First Days Back
With the firsties tucked away in bed, the older students gradually filtered back out to the common room. It was Friday night, the beginning of the weekend. There were no classes until Monday. There was absolutely no reason to go to bed.
It seemed strange to be able to stay up late on the first night back, but the Slytherins were not ones to waste an opportunity. Bletchley brought out a wizard's wireless, and music began to play throughout the room. They kept the volume relatively low since everybody wanted to talk and catch up.
Harry found himself in the corner on a couch with Pansy and Daphne. Draco sat in a chair nearby. Goyle had leaned a beanbag chair up against the couch and settled himself down.
"Seems a shame not to let the ickle firsties participate," Draco observed, "but they must be knackered. I remember I was first night."
"No kidding," Harry agreed. "I think I was out before my head even hit the pillow. I'm quite done in as it is."
To illustrate the point, Daphne yawned.
"Where's Crabbe?" Harry said.
"He's still in the dorm," Goyle replied.
"Turning in early?"
"He's kind of afraid to see you. You know, given what his dad tried to do."
"Not an unwise thing," Draco noted. "I still can't believe he was stupid enough to try the Killing Curse right there in public."
"Maybe he was under Imperius," Goyle suggested.
"Sirius says they're looking into that. It would be easier to explain."
"Or the Dark Lord just tried to get an easy victory," Pansy said. "Maybe it was just a normal order."
"Whose order?" Harry asked.
"The Dark Lord."
After a summer of hearing Sirius and Remus use Voldemort's given name, hearing Pansy use his presumed title was bothersome to Harry. Mr. Malfoy had used it, but he'd been ingrained to. No, it was time to put a stop to this.
"No, Pansy, that's not his name. His name is Voldemort."
Pansy flinched. "Don't make me say it. Please."
"It's just a name. You shouldn't be afraid of a name. His name is Voldemort."
She gave a small whimper. "V- V- V-" she stuttered.
"Voldemort."
"Vvvvv-"
"Voldemort."
"Why can't I just say Dark Lord? You know who I mean. It's not like there's another one running around somewhere."
"Voldemort." Harry was inexorable. He stared hard at Pansy, willing his own strength to pass into her.
"Volde..." she whispered.
"What was that?"
"Voldemort," she breathed.
"Again."
"Voldemort." It was a little bit louder now, half a whisper.
"Yes, Pansy," Harry cheered. "Keep it up."
"Voldemort." One could almost hear her.
"You're doing fantastic, love."
"Voldemort." Triumph!
Harry squeezed her hands. The way the name was verbotin, one might expect Death Eaters to pop up and start flinging hexes. Her face was still slightly wary, as though she couldn't quite believe she was getting away with saying the forbidden name.
"Well done." He turned to Daphne. "Let's hear you."
"Why are you picking on us girls? Does Draco say it yet?"
"We'll get to him. Come on, then."
"Dark Tosser?" She grinned hopefully at him, trying to be cute. Her cuteness generally got her rather far, but Harry would not be put off.
"Daphne." His tone was mildly reproving, letting her know that the time for joking was over.
"Volde-thingy."
"..."
"Oh, fine. You know, I don't think you appreciate just how hard this is. We've been afraid of his name since we were old enough to know what fear is." She took a deep breath. "Voldemort," she whispered.
"See? Not so hard."
"Draco's turn."
Draco loved to be in the spotlight, but not when having to do something difficult like this. His normal cocky expression vanished as his lips shaped the word, but nothing came out except a dry wheeze.
"What was that, mate?"
"Vol-"
"One more time."
"I hate this. Vol. De. Mort. There, I said it."
"That hardly counts," Pansy objected.
"It's the best you're going to get for now."
"You, Draco, are far from the best I can get."
Harry winced. Pansy's harsh words were spoken pleasantly, almost matter-of-factly.
Draco's tone turned very frosty. "The Dark Lord's name is Voldemort," he said, his eyes locked with hers.
Pansy shivered. Draco didn't.
"Are you satisfied, you relentless, foul-mouthed-"
"I do not have a foul mouth! I speak with the voice of angels."
"Only the ones that have been cast down into the fiery pit."
"Whose singing is thus even more lovely to tempt mortal man. Care to try again, you simplistic, uncouth, moron of an ape who happened to pick up a fallen wand one day?"
"How long have you been saving that one, Pansy?" Daphne interjected.
"Ever since he decided it would be a good idea to dunk us all under water."
"That was particularly brainless of him."
"I still don't think it's fair that you just decided it was my idea."
"It absolutely was," Pansy said. "Tracy had the right of it."
"Where is she anyway?"
"She wanted to read for a bit."
"Read? Well, that's Tracy."
At that moment, Blaise Zabini came over to the group. "Good evening, all. It's a pleasure to see you again."
"Welcome back, Zabini," Harry said. "It's been awhile."
"It has, at that. Call me Blaise. Of course I remember you, Harry."
"You remember Draco Malfoy."
"Dray."
"No, that's not it."
"Pansy Parkinson."
"Cici."
"What did you just call me?"
"Daphne."
"Daffy."
"He doesn't know when to stop, does he?"
"Goyle."
"The Boil."
"Zabini, I'm going to thump you. Can I thump him, Draco?"
"Oh, please do. Then I'm going to hex him."
"Relax, Dray. Everything is cool."
"Will you stop calling me by that ridiculous nickname?"
Pansy still looked outraged, but on seeing how perturbed Draco was, her face slowly morphed into a calculating smirk. "Dray, darling, please calm yourself. You're disturbing my auras."
Daphne got in on it quickly. "Oh my stars, it's just too shocking. Such violence is truly barbaric."
"This Frenchman is being unaccountably rude to all of us, and you're on his side?"
"I rather like his little pet names."
"If that's the way you want to play it, Cici," he sneered.
A brief flash of worry crossed her face, but it vanished beneath the mask of resolve.
Draco turned back to Zabini. "You don't want to start this with me. I'll hex you back to France if you persist with this."
"Okay, fine. I was only trying to put everyone at ease. Sorry."
"You'd better be."
Zabini moved away from them and went to speak with some of the sixth years.
"So what do you think about Zabini coming back?" Draco said to Harry. "Is there a new bed in the dorm? Because I'm not sharing."
"I'm sure they've planned for him."
"Isn't it rather convenient? Someone we have no idea about can suddenly sleep in the same room as you? Did they check this fellow out?"
Harry worried about the answer to that question. Dumbledore was not as sharp as he once was, according to Sirius. He decided not to trust that the old wizard had done his due diligence. He needed to call Sirius on the magic mirror before he slept tonight.
While he was concerned about this Zabini boy, plenty of his fellow Slytherins made it a point to make eye contact with him and express solidarity. The sixth and seventh year girls were sitting at nearby table. Each one looked over and gave Harry a slight nod. Heather Chandler and Samantha Warrington, the prefects, must have talked to them.
Laine and Ginny were chatting at a table with Sarrah Nolan and Shawna Osman. They occasionally looked in his direction, regarding him speculatively. Michelle Holt, still ostracized from their clique, sat at another table with Lucas. Laine shot her twin brother vicious glares, but he either didn't see them or didn't care. Harry thought it was nice that someone was reaching out to the poor girl.
Though he would be getting to know the other prefects, Harry generally didn't mingle with the upper year students aside from the lads on the team. They were good lads, if a bit rowdy. Once Harry had proven his worth to the team, he'd become solid with them all. His Quidditch mates had defended him during the Triwizard Tournament, during the Chamber of Secrets nonsense. He was counting on them standing up with him.
It looked as though Harry would get the chance to talk to them sooner rather than later. Two of the Chasers, Montague and Pucey, came up as the evening wore on.
Pucey spoke first. "Hey, Harry, did you stay in shape this summer? Get lots of practice in?"
Montague didn't let Harry answer. "Because Miles is going to run us ragged. He spent all holiday designing new plays. As if the manual didn't have more than enough already."
"I hope he doesn't think he's better than me at being a Seeker."
"Nothing like that, Harry," Pucey replied, "but there are a lot of things that can be done with the Seeker that are absolutely legal, just tricky to pull off. We're going to work more on that stuff this year."
"Should be fun," Montague said.
"If by 'fun', you mean 'not at all'," Harry said wryly.
"There's that Seeker humour."
"We'll see you around, Harry. We've got to go play a prank on Miles."
Harry chuckled. "Have fun with that, guys."
They hurried away, and Harry made a mental note to have a more private word with them.
"They're just asking for extra torture at practice, aren't they?" Draco said.
"Yup. If they get caught."
"Better than losing points or getting detention," Pansy said, "which is exactly what would happen if they pranked Gryffindor. That would not help us hold on to the Quidditch Cup."
"I wonder where Charles is," Daphne said. Her former boyfriend had sort of drifted away. Now it looked like he was avoiding her deliberately; he was seldom apart from his mates.
"That bum," Pansy said derisively. "Not to worry, Daphne. We'll find you a nice boy. I think Harry's available."
Harry coughed and began to feel hot under the collar. "Pansy!"
"What? You two have been aware of each other for years and done nothing about it. Someone has to prompt you."
"I was still thinking about it."
Daphne giggled. "Ooh, you were thinking about me, were you?"
Harry wanted to bury his face in his hands to hide his humiliation. "I'm thinking about a lot of things. I don't even know if I want to ask anyone out right now. I've got a lot to do this year. Between prefect meetings, Quidditch practices, and managing the classwork, I'll be lucky if I have time to sleep."
"Good thing I brought Dad's coffee pot," Daphne said. "If you ask me out, you can share it with me."
"Silence, you foul temptress."
"Is that your idea of sweet talk?"
Harry couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to bed. Good night."
"Pleasant dreams!" Daphne said brightly.
She always had to get in the last word. He decided to let her.
"I think I'll turn in as well," Draco said, getting to his feet. "It has been a long day."
Goyle also elected to retire, and the three boys ambled down the corridor to the dormitory. Theo and Crabbe were already asleep with curtains drawn.
Harry undressed, dropping his clothes to the floor. He struggled into his pajama bottoms, pulled back the covers of his bed, and laid down. He bid the room a final good night and drew the curtains.
There was no sound. Harry had put a great many spells on his bed, including the Silencing Charm. With the potential for ambush at Hogwarts, it was not prudent to sleep without magical protections. If Sirius had gotten his way, Padfoot would have slept on a rug at the foot of the bed. In between Animagus and Apparition, Sirius had taught him about Locking Hexes. That teaching was now put to good use as Harry set his security for the night. He wanted to make the contained spell a Stunning Charm, but he hadn't been able to make the magical fields align properly, so he was left with the Full-Body Bind.
Harry put a Sticking Charm on the headboard. He took off his glasses and pressed them up against the wood and let go. The glasses stayed in place. He did the same with his wand. Perfect. Now he didn't have to leave his wand on his bedside table or under his pillow.
Constant vigilance. Harry hated thinking like this. He wanted things back the way they used to be when he didn't have to worry about his friends hexing him in the night, or intruders entering his room to abduct him and carry him off to Voldemort.
Pushing away the negative thoughts, Harry lay down to sleep. He tried to draw on the calm sense he'd found during his Animagus meditations, hoping it would help him quiet his troublesome thoughts.
And he slept.
After breakfast the next morning, Harry made his way to Professor Snape's office. He knocked firmly on the oak door, using the secret knock to announce himself as a Slytherin alone.
"Enter!"
The door opened. Professor Snape was seated at his desk. He had his head bent and was writing with a black raven's feather. His quill strokes were quick and jerky. His greasy black hair hung forward into his face, though his nose still jutted prominently.
"Hello, sir."
"Good morning, Mister Potter. What may I do for you?"
"I've got something for you, sir. I know how much you like having the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup in your office. Well, I thought I'd give you another trophy for the trifecta."
Harry pulled the Triwizard Cup out and set it on the desk.
"I think it would look quite fine, Mister Potter." Snape had a very delighted smile on his face. "You did a most excellent job during the tasks. For an unwilling contestant, you performed admirably. Up Slytherin."
"Up Slytherin! How was your holiday, sir?"
"Quite busy. I brewed several complicated potions, sat in on several staff meetings, and did some travelling. Yourself?"
"Not nearly as exciting as all that," Harry said regretfully. "I did a lot of studying. It never hurts to be prepared."
"The OWL year is frequently fraught with fear, but with sufficient diligence can be overcome and still allow one to get a full night's refreshment."
"Any hints on your first lecture?" Harry asked hopefully.
Professor Snape spared another small smile. "Mister Potter, that wouldn't be fair to the other students."
"They have legs. Let them walk down here and ask. Term has started. What true teacher would deny us knowledge?"
"Five points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for a most plausible explanation. The first lecture is a double lesson, and you will be brewing even though it is the first day. There is little enough time to cover all the material before the examination."
"What potion will we be making, sir?"
"The Draught of Peace. It requires precise technique and adherence to the instructions. It is also quite commonly required during the practical portion of the OWL."
"Thank you, sir." Draught of Peace. Harry would read up on it tonight.
"How do you find it being back at school again? There is quite a fair amount of attention on you this year."
"Being a prefect, sir?"
"Amongst other things."
"Well, I'm happy to be a prefect, of course. I wanted to be like my mum. She was Head Girl too."
It may have just been the fire, but Harry thought he saw a flash in Snape's eyes.
"As for other things, it's good to have friends. It helps."
"Have you spoken to Mister Crabbe yet? Surely you're not going to let his father's actions pass without comment."
Harry wasn't surprised Professor Snape already knew about the incident in the Hogs Head.
"No, I just don't know what to say. I don't know if it was a plan by Voldemort, an independent action on Crabbe's part, or something else I haven't thought of."
"Why not let him speak for himself, rather than judge him on his father's behaviour? He has been your friend for four years now. He merits that much consideration at least."
"Yes, sir. I know. I'll talk to him this afternoon."
"Good. The more ties of friendship and influence you have, the better things will be."
"Yes, sir."
Figuring it would be wise to heed Professor Snape's advice immediately, Harry went directly back to the Slytherin common room. He found Crabbe with Goyle at a far table near the bookshelves.
Goyle noticed Harry's approach, and Crabbe caught his sudden shift in focus. He got to his feet, an uncertain expression on his face.
"Hi, Crabbe."
"H-hi, Harry."
"Have you got a few minutes? I'd like to ask you a question about the Astronomy homework."
"Astronomy?" Crabbe's eyes lit up. It was his best subject. "Sure, Harry."
"Let's go to the room. It might be a bit too noisy out here for academic discussion."
"Right. Yeah."
"Lead on."
Harry followed Crabbe down the corridor to the end where the plaque on the door now read "Fifth Years". They went inside, and Harry closed the door behind them.
"Was it the star charts? Or maybe the movements in the Great Dance?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Crabbe. I did just fine with the Astronomy assignment. I wanted to talk about Voldemort."
Crabbe's composure deserted him, and he staggered. He might have fallen had he not grabbed a bed post.
"He's trying to kill me, Crabbe, and your dad was a part of it."
"Please, Harry. My dad doesn't want to harm you. He's afraid to. When the Dark Lord ordered that no one was to touch you except him, my dad took him literally. He doesn't want to find out what would happen to the one who trespassed on the Dark Lord's claim."
"So what was it then, in your opinion?"
"It was the Imperius Curse. Dad's rubbish at resisting it, just like I am."
"That doesn't make any sense, Crabbe. Why would Voldemort use your dad to kill me when he wants to do it himself?"
"I don't know, but I know he wouldn't have done it on his own." Crabbe repeated his claim, his voice certain.
Harry sighed. "Look, mate, I don't know why your dad did what he did, but he tried to use the Killing Curse on me. Whatever his reason, the same could be true for you. If they could Imperius him, they can Imperius you. If they can blackmail him, they can blackmail you. If they can threaten his family, they can threaten your family."
"Nobody's influencing me."
"I need proof, Crabbe."
"You mean an oath."
"Maybe. This is my life, man. I'm not taking chances with it."
Crabbe drew his wand and held it up in front of him. Startled, Harry drew his own and pointed it at Crabbe; however, the big boy spoke no spell.
"I am not being controlled by anyone other than myself. I am not under the influence of potions, enchantments, or compulsions. I will not take action that I believe will bring harm to my friend Harry Potter."
A burst of white light from the tip of the wand sealed the oath. He'd been telling the truth.
"Thank you, Crabbe. I hope you plan to fight on my side."
"Not many choices left, really. I wasn't keen on being a Death Eater. Either way, I don't expect to survive this thing."
Harry could have wished for a bit more enthusiasm.
"I mean, if I join the Death Eaters, I'll likely get killed by a Auror or the Dark Lord in a rage. If I fight against the Dark Lord, I could get killed by a Death Eater. Seems pretty even odds of death."
"Chin up, mate. You might get stomped by a dragon. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Crabbe grinned briefly. "Yeah, I guess. If I gotta go, I might as well go with style."
"So are we okay, fathead?"
Crabbe rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're okay, Harry. I'm with you, but my head isn't fat."
"Good. Glad to have you. We can head back out now."
Harry detoured to answer the call of nature. As he left the loo and headed down the corridor to the common room, Harry encountered Theo. He walked with his head down, eyes on the ground. His shoulders were slumped, and his bag was clutched limply in one hand.
"Hi, Theo," Harry said. "We missed you at breakfast."
Theo looked up at the sound of Harry's voice, but he gave no further recognition. He kept walking and went into the dorm, shutting the door behind him.
Harry ached for Theo. If only there was something he could do, but there was nothing else that could help aside from what he'd just done. He could only reach out to Theo, let him know his friends were near. The rest was up to him.
In the common room, the fifth years were gathered at a table playing cards. Draco was currently facing down Millie, as everyone else's cards had exploded.
"Come on, Mils," Pansy urged. "Get him!"
"Gin!" Millie crowed.
Draco's cards exploded in his hand.
"I win!"
"That's it, I'm out," Draco declared. "That's three hands straight."
"Aww, come on, Draco," coaxed Millie. "Just one more. One more. Double or nothing."
"Absolutely not. I've lost enough already."
"Are you lot gambling?" Harry asked. "That's against the school rules. I can't be knowing about that sort of thing. I'm a prefect, you know."
"Oh, sit down, prefect," Tracy said. "You're just mad because you didn't have a chance to get in on the game."
"How'd you guess?" Harry replied with a grin.
"How'd the talk with Crabbe go?" she inquired.
"Talk?"
"Oh, I know he fell for that line about the Astronomy assignment, but you spent time with Professor Lupin this summer, and he knows a lot about Astronomy. Hence, I deduced that you wanted to talk to him about something. His dad, right?"
"Yeah. It went okay."
"Is he going to be a problem?"
"No, he seems really confused by everything. I don't think he was a part of it. He says he's with me, and I'll believe that until I see otherwise. Now we just need to figure out his dad's actions."
"Where are they keeping him since there's no prison anymore?"
"They've opened some new cells under the Ministry. Mister Malfoy was telling me about them. They never had much luck with traditional cells because the inmates were always trying to escape and could be very creative about getting out. They'd find ways to take advantage of outbursts of accidental magic. Well, that's why the old prison worked so well. With the dementors roaming the halls, everyone wants to stay nice and safe in their cell."
"So how've they managed to get prisoners to want to stay in these new cells?"
"Instead of a back wall, there's nothing but empty air."
"What? How do they keep them from getting out?"
"They've installed a bottomless pit. Guests are free to leave their cells at any time."
"I'd watch that first step. Brilliant idea."
"They're all so worried about falling, they can't concentrate on anything else. Any accidental magic they may do is directed towards keeping them put."
"You know what would make that idea even better?" Draco said. "Put the floor on an angle so that if they roll in their sleep-"
"Eew!" Daphne burst out. "Creepy! Absolutely creepy, Draco!"
"It's not a bad idea," Harry said. "I'll have Sirius write to Director Bones and suggest it. They seem to think that enough time overlooking an abyss will crack him, and he'll talk." Since Sirius had been innocent, Harry knew it was possible that some of the other inmates of the old prison could be too, but the new prison sounded a lot more humane than sticking people in with dementors.
Crabbe shuddered. "I suppose now's the time to mention my dad's fear of heights and of falling."
Draco laughed sharply. "That's a pity. Hopefully he'll talk that much sooner."
"What if he was just under Imperius?"
"If he was, he'd have been ordered to kill himself in custody so as to not betray any knowledge. That hasn't happened, so there's something else at play. A little time contemplating falling but never landing will break him."
"Can we talk about something else, please?" Pansy requested. She seemed slightly green, though it may have been the light from the lanterns.
"Isn't it time for lunch?" Draco said brightly.
And so it was.
Up in the Great Hall, Draco had a sterling idea. Between bites of a chicken sandwich, he said, "Hey, Harry. Why don't we get out on the pitch after we eat and pass the Quaffle around a bit?"
"That is an excellent idea."
"Good," Millie said. "It's going to be tough to go against the Chasers without Theo."
Laine was sitting one seat away from Harry and turned her head. "Nobody can beat Montague, Pucey, and Warrington. Why bother trying?"
"Because how are you going to get better unless you go up against people better than you? You don't learn anything new when you play less experienced flyers. We need to test ourselves against the best."
Millie pounded her fist into her opposite palm.
"I bet you're excited to have Quidditch back on, Harry. I know last year was tough on you."
"Honestly, I was so busy training and worrying, I didn't have much time to miss Quidditch. It'll be nice to get back in the sky, yeah. I hope they've blasted that damned maze to bits."
"I was thinking of going out for the team," Laine said unexpectedly. "What do you think? Would I be a good player?"
Harry felt knocked for a loop. Laine had never expressed any interest in playing Quidditch before. She'd been a fan of his participation, and she'd cheered the house team as loudly as any other Slytherin, yet he hadn't even known she cared to fly.
"Anyone who wants to should try out. More competition means we get the best players. What position?"
"Well there will be openings for Chaser, but I think it would be grand to play Seeker."
Harry looked Laine up and down, trying to capture that sense of the Captain's Eye. She was short and slight. She had the right build for a Seeker, but could she fly?
"Maybe," he said appraisingly. "I'm not sure when trials are going to be held. I'll look for you."
"Don't I have to beat you to get starting position?"
"That's right. Think you can do it?"
Laine giggled. "Not a chance, but it'll be fun to try, and I hope I can make reserve squad."
"That's the spirit. We'll make a Quidditch player of you yet."
"If I've got to play Chaser, I suppose I can deal with that."
"So who else wants to go? Theo?"
Theo glanced over at Harry. He said nothing and looked back down to his plate.
Harry tried not to let it bother him. Theo would respond when it was time. At least he'd come up to the Great Hall for lunch after skipping both dinner and breakfast.
They made a quick trip down to the dorms to retrieve brooms. Harry had his Firebolt; Draco had his Numbus 2000. Crabbe, Goyle, and Millie all had Cleansweeps. Laine and Lucas had matched Nimbus 2001s. Ginny carried a pretty beat-up Comet.
"Nice broom, Weasley," Draco said. "You might be able to get a good few Galleons for that as an antique."
"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny replied sweetly. "It's what you rich bastards like to call an 'heirloom'."
Laine snickered, and Harry couldn't help but do the same.
Draco inclined his head slightly, granting her the point.
"It once belonged to my brother Charlie, who was asked to play for England. If it's good enough for him to train up with, it's good enough for me."
"Enough, Ginny, please," Draco said easingly. "I was only teasing."
"I don't find it funny." She tossed her hair back and began to put it in a tight braid. "I don't want to be on your team."
"Have it your way."
"Let's get in the sky."
They headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Draco carried the Quaffle. This was not the team ball, but Draco's own personal. He'd purchased it when he'd first conceived of trying out for the position of Chaser. He tossed it from hand to hand as he sized up the group.
"Which of you lot thinks you're good enough to fly with Millie and me? If Theo is out, we need someone to challenge the seventh years with. Crabbe and Goyle are likely to make the team this year as Beaters, so who'll it be? You, Slater? What about you, Slater?"
"I want to be Keeper," Lucas said.
"Well doesn't that just help us," Draco said snidely. "Start with some warm-up laps. Slater? Weasley?"
"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ginny said. "I told you, I am not on your team today."
"All right, Slater," Draco said, sounding a lot like Bletchley. "Get in formation. Listen for my signals. I assume you know the basic patterns?"
"Of course."
"Good. Let's see how well you've learned them."
Laine was not the worst flyer Harry had ever seen, but she had horrible precision with her turns. She was always a half second behind Draco and Millie as they ran through a basic approach pattern.
"Pick it up, Slater!" Draco called. "You're not counting."
"Sorry!"
Laine did improve a bit, enough to make Draco call a new pattern. She seemed to know this one better.
"Good! Again, but faster."
Crabbe, Goyle, and Ginny were talking strategy, watching the trio currently warming up.
"Malfoy?" Ginny called. "Are you ready yet?"
"No, but whatever. Get it together, Slater. Legal territory is half the pitch, unless Harry wants to play as the other Keeper."
Harry had never played the position in his life.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Harry is on our team," Draco said. "Slater, we're going to give you a workout."
"Let's go."
The final score was ridiculously high. Harry was rubbish as a Keeper. For all his skill in predicting the movements of the snitch, he was no use at all at guessing which hoop an oncoming Chaser would throw for.
Lucas had been rubbish as Keeper as well. Laine hadn't been bad as a Chaser, but she hadn't been very good either. She was better than Crabbe and Goyle, but not as good as Ginny.
Ginny had scored most of the goals for her team. She was a tricky flyer. The redhead's anger at Draco led her to play rough Slytherin Quidditch. He was limping as they made their way back to the common room. Everyone was tired but aside from Draco, they were extremely satisfied with their little outing.
"Absolutely miserable," Draco said. "Instincts of a flobberworm."
Draco kept up a running diatribe on the way back up to the castle, disparaging everything from Lucas' instincts and his sense of dress to Laine's clumsiness and throwing ability.
Harry let his friend rant. It was Draco's concern how and with whom he and Millie tried to make the team. Harry had simply been glad to fly again. He had been cooped up too long in Grimmauld Place. Being in the open sky made him indescribably happy. He had needed to be free.
They had just enough time to enjoy deliciously hot showers before heading up to the Great Hall, and after a big dinner, Harry went back to his dormitory feeling very full and very sleepy. He laid down on his bed and kicked off his shoes.
Just a few minutes. I'll rest for a few minutes and then go back out.
And he slept.
Harry woke with a start. The sun stabbed into his eyes. He reached blearily for the curtain and yanked it into place.
Precious seconds later, his waking brain processed his action, and Harry sat bolt upright, groping at his waist for his wand.
Morning. It was morning, and Harry had fallen asleep last night without his protective spells. He started to swear softly. Stupid! How could he have been so careless? There was a new student in the dorm whom they knew nothing about. Professor Moody would be ashamed of him.
He hadn't even managed to take his glasses off the previous night. Resolving to do better, Harry looked around the dorm. The other five boys all had their curtains drawn. Nobody wanted to rise early on Sunday. Did he want to go back to sleep? Harry yawned. Yes, most certainly. He pulled his curtains closed, which automatically locked the magic protecting his bed.
Several hours later, Harry rose with the others and meandered up to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he ate, he kept an eye on Laine. She was poised, light-hearted, and viciously witty. She'd also been a real trooper during the Triwizard Tournament. Her counsel had helped keep things from getting too insane for him. Harry decided he needed to spend some quality time with his public relations agent. As everyone filed back to the common room, he approached and touched her on the elbow.
"Laine, would you like to go for a walk up on the battlements?"
"I would, Harry. Let me fetch my cloak."
Harry leaned against the wall near the fireplace. Laine quickly emerged, and they left the common room side by side.
"Excited about classes tomorrow?"
"Somewhat. I'm glad we get to have a small reprieve before diving into things. The chance to adjust back to Hogwarts is good. It's nice to be able to catch up with everyone since we could hardly leave the house over ths summer. Congratulations, by the way. That's a very shiny badge you have there."
"Thanks," Harry said, feeling somewhat bashful about having shined it so much.
"Given any points yet?"
"Nope."
"Taken any?"
"Haven't had a chance to."
"You could give me some points."
"What for?"
"For being sneaky and knowing a secret passage? C'mon."
Laine took his hand and turned left into the endless corridors of the dungeons. While one couldn't get "lost" per se, one could spend an awful lot of time getting nowhere if you didn't know where a secret passage was. There were several different ways to get up into the castle proper from the dungeons. Laine drew her wand and with a quick tap on the right sequence of bricks near the next turn she opened up one Harry had never taken before.
"Where's this lead?"
"The fourth floor. You wanted to get out on the battlements, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then in we go."
"Ladies first."
It was a narrow, winding staircase that went up and up and up. There were no landings, no other places to possibly get out. Laine was right in front of him holding her lighted wand high, and he found himself captivated by the swaying of her hips. His mind seemed to switch off as Harry climbed and watched.
Laine stopped at the top of the stairs and pushed on a bulging stone on the wall. The secret entrance slid open. Harry walked out to find himself on the battlements right next to a proper door leading to some classrooms.
"How'd you ever find this one?"
"My cousin Catherine told me. She was in Slytherin a long time ago. Ten years or more."
"Thanks for sharing it with me."
Laine smiled. Harry's heart, already going faster from his view as they ascended, skipped a beat. Did she still like him?
"My pleasure, Harry. Shall we?"
"Shall we what?"
Laine giggled. "Walk. That's what you asked me up here for, wasn't it?" She giggled again. "Or did you have some other purpose in mind?"
Yep, she still liked him.
"No, I didn't want to walk."
Laine continued to giggle. "Then what would you like to do with me?"
Did she have to talk so suggestively? Harry felt his brain detaching.
"Talk," Harry said, desperately grabbing at that word in his fevered state. "Talk. Want to talk."
"Talk? Sure, Harry. We can talk about anything you want. What's on your mind?"
Oh, if only she knew what was on his mind.
"The war."
Laine shivered though the day was not particularly cold. She drew her cloak around her shoulders, covering the light blouse she wore.
"Scary thing, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
"So what plans are you making to fight him?"
"Just going to study as hard as I can. I've got to get the ordinaries beat before I can try to get fancy. I wish it didn't take so much time to grow up!"
"Me too. I'm already bored with being fourteen. I want to be an adult!"
"I can't wait to come of age. Then I'll be able to Apparate." Openly.
"I've never much liked Apparition. Always made me queasy. I much prefer broom travel. Ever since the concealment charms have gotten so much better, it's very easy to just hop a broom and fly."
"If you have the time."
"True, but time spent in leisure is not time wasted."
"The view certainly is amazing from high up."
"Not that we'd know from this past summer."
Harry didn't reply. He still found it hard to accept that his news had been responsible for so many ruined summer holidays.
He changed the subject. "I was really glad to hear that your dad is supporting the Ministry."
"Daddy respects strong leadership. The way Minister Fudge has been so adamant about properly perparing and the steps he's taken to make sure we're ready, I mean. Daddy said throwing money around is one thing, but holding up a plan to spend it is entirely different. Addressing specific needs and shortages, strengths and weaknesses, and generally treating it like a business are the way to get ready."
"All numbers, you mean?"
"No, the numbers of the cost have ceased to have any meaning. It's going to take the Ministry ages to pay for all this, but Daddy told me about one of Fudge's speeches where he said that there was no price too high to pay for freedom."
"Just as long as they spend the money wisely."
"If we didn't take a risk on the Ministry paying back its debts, we'd all have to live with You-Know-Who just taking whatever he wants. Those Death Eaters are savages."
"I hope they're not getting loans from Gringotts."
Laine laughed softly. Harry could see her eyes dancing.
"You're so funny, Harry. No, there have been a lot of loans made by some prominent families. Other things are being done on faith."
"I should do that," Harry said. He had tons of money in his vault. A donation to the Ministry would definitely help the war effort.
"I'm sure it would help."
Laine and Harry walked side by side in silence for a moment. The view from the battlements of the castle was simply astounding. The Scottish mountains and forests were picturesque, vivid natural colours that pierced deep to the soul.
"So I think yesterday's practice proves I need help if I want to make the team next year. Maybe you could show me a couple of moves."
Harry was sure his shirt collar must have constricted. He caught another possible meaning behind her innocent words about sport and suddenly felt very warm.
"Sure," he managed to say, not trusting himself with more than the single word.
"Ooh, fantastic!" she squealed. She hugged him briefly. "You're the best, Harry."
To conceal the fact that he couldn't form a coherant sentence, Harry opened the door that led to the way up to the trophy room. He turned left instead and they followed the corridor out to the central staircases.
Quite a few people were bustling about the castle. Harry and Laine made their way down side by side. They saw no one they knew or cared to converse with until they were in the dungeons again. Two of the first year girls were standing in the wrong part of the hall whispering the wrong password. When they spotted Harry's badge, they practically collapsed on the spot with relief.
"Mister Prefect, we can't get in the common room," said a girl with light brown skin and black hair. She wore her Hogwarts robes.
"My name is Harry."
"The password is 'mutiny', right?" asked the other girl, who had pale white skin and blonde hair.
"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "It's 'unity'."
"Hah!" said the first girl. "I was right, Cissy!"
"Aww. I wanted it to be mutiny," Cissy said sadly. "It made me think of pirates, and I really like pirates."
"I'm sorry, Cissy," Harry said.
"Hey wait a minute," the blonde girl said sharply, her head snapping up. "If you just said the password, why didn't the wall open?"
"Very observant, Cissy. That would be because we're not in front of the door."
"Told you so, Patty!"
"It's a little further on. Follow me."
Harry led the little procession around the corner and stopped at an unassuming section of the wall.
"Unity."
The stone door slid back and out of the way. Into the common room and down the steps they went.
"Thanks, Harry."
"My pleasure, Patty. That's why we're here."
"You handled that rather well, Mister Prefect."
"Oh, cut it out, Laine. I'm sure they were just trying to be polite."
"Wait until I tell the others."
Prompted by his encounter with the first years, Harry sought them out in the common room after lunch.
"Hi, Mister Prefect!" said one of the two girls he'd helped. He couldn't remember if it was Cissy or Patty.
"Hello, first years," he said to them all. "How are you all?"
"This place is amazing!"
"So many rooms!"
"I love the common room!"
"I'm Harry," he said to remind them. "You don't have to call me Mister Prefect or sir or anything like that. Harry. Help me remember all of your names."
"I'm Cissy Moor," said the first girl. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. "My cousin John is a seventh year Ravenclaw, and my sister Brenda is a second year."
Patty, the other firstie Harry had spoken with, had light brown skin and had let down her black hair from earlier. "My brother Roberto is in Hufflepuff. He's a seventh year too."
"I'm Fiona Dee," said a girl with brown, shoulder-length hair. "You might know my brother Zachary. He's four years out of Hogwarts. Slytherin, of course."
"Of course Slytherin," said another girl with brown hair. Hers was longer, reaching to her elbows. "My sister Mary was in that same year. I'm Wendy, by the way. Wendy Ashland."
"They're all very impressive, yes?" said the last girl. "Hullo, Harry. I'm Pam, and my sister Emma says hi."
"Emma?" Harry tried to think of who he knew named Emma. It was hard. He realized he knew quite a few people now.
"Bright yellow hair?"
"Emma!" How could Harry have been so daft? "Emma Ruthven, guitar player for Wand Smasher."
"The same." Pam smiled widely.
"How is she?"
"She's well. They went on tour last year and made a pile of Galleons. Now they've gone into another writing phase."
"Fantastic. Please send her my regards."
"I will."
"Done much exploring yet?"
"Some. We were about to head out and look around some more. We've got all this free time, so it only makes sense that we learn our way around when we don't have to worry about getting to a class."
"A very good idea," Harry agreed. "Well, I won't keep you then. Be safe."
"Bye!"
The first year girls departed the common room to navigate the castle. Harry wondered if they'd thought to invite the boys.
"Nah," Daphne said when he said it later. "Boys have ghoul pox."
That Sunday evening after dinner, Draco pulled Harry aside as they left the Great Hall. Daphne and Pansy followed out of curiosity. They went up one flight of stairs and turned down a side corridor.
"What is it, Draco?" Harry asked.
"Do you remember me telling you about the amazing room I found while I was staying at the castle over the summer? I want to show you."
"What room is this?" Pansy inquired.
"It appears to be a room that provides anything you ask for. I was up on the seventh floor, bored out of my mind. There's nothing to do around this place when you're by yourself, so I was wishing I could have someone to duel with at least. Well this door just appears out of nowhere and inside I found a whole bunch of training dummies, books full of hexes and counterhexes, everything we'd ever need to work our skills up a bit."
"Oh my goodness!" Daphne sounded astounded.
"I left, but then I wanted to go back in for one of the books. So I opened the door again, but I was thinking about reading in bed, and there in the middle of the room was a bed!"
"That's incredible," Pansy breathed.
"What else can it do?" Harry asked.
"I wanted to write a letter to Father, and a desk appeared, complete with parchment, ink, and quills."
"I wonder," Daphne said speculatively.
"Take us there at once, Draco," Pansy said.
They took a secret passage up to the fifth floor and then took a normal staircase up to the seventh. Draco stopped in front of a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. It was a gruesome scene, the result of a foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet, and Harry had never lingered up here.
Draco paced in front of the blank section of wall, turning sharply at the window just beyond and then back at the man-sized vase on its other side.
"We need a place to brew a potion," he muttered. "We need to brew a potion, and we can't go to the dungeons."
As he made his third pass, a highly polished door appeared in the wall.
"By Merlin," Pansy breathed.
Draco reached out, seized the brass handle, and opened the door for them. He bowed slightly as they walked in.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The room was almost exactly like Professor Snape's office. It was bigger, to be sure, with more shelves and more ingredients. One whole shelf was devoted to books with titles like Brewing Beyond the N.E.W.T., Power Potions Proficiency, and Moste Potente Potions.
A rack to one side held an assortment of cauldrons. There was pewter, iron, steel, stone, copper, brass, silver, gold, platinum, and other materials Harry couldn't identify. There were small, medium, and large cauldrons. The whole lot was worth incalculable Galleons.
The centrepiece of the room was a commanding stone table. There was all the bench space one could ever ask for. A wooden block held dozens of knives. There was a firespot on the table and another on the floor.
"You could brew anything in this room." Harry was phenominally impressed.
"That's the idea."
"Quite a good find, Draco," Pansy admitted. "Maybe there might be some hope for you yet."
Draco said nothing, but he bowed rakishly.
"Oh, the uses we can put this room to," Daphne said, already chewing her lower lip in thought. "This is fantastic, Harry. You seem to be collecting secret rooms in this castle."
