The first light snowfalls fell from the grey Scottish sky, but where children normally would be outside trying and failing to make snowballs with the thin layer of snow that coated the ground, there was not a soul outdoors. There was no bubble of anticipation for the holiday season and the many festivities that were a staple of Hogwarts activities. There was nothing so innocent as the pure white snow within the cold stone walls of the ancient castle.
Instead, the school was on a knife-edge. Tensions were as high as they had ever been, students were afraid to walk the halls alone and had become well accustomed with checking their backs everywhere they went. Ever since Pansy Parkinson's attack, a veil of paranoia settled over the student body. One would be hard pressed to find any lower year students without a prefect around them, or upper year's not clumped together protectively. There was no amount of reassurances from the professors that could ease their worries.
Pansy had yet to wake up from her attack, and despite how unpleasant she was to be around, Harry felt a hint of pity towards the girl.
Upon receiving the message, Dumbledore's entire body tensed and his demeanor became as cold as ice. They spared only a few words of apology to Mrs. Bagshot for their abrupt departure, before exiting her house and Dumbledore immediately apparating the two back to his office. From there he moved directly to the Hospital Wing with Harry struggling to keep up with his brisk strides. It was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that both Pomfrey and Snape did not object to his presence upon approaching Pansy's bedside.
There were no physical wounds on the outside, her porcelain skin remaining as impeccably clear as always. From what he heard around him as the professors spoke in hushed tones, was the it was inside where the problem lay. Her mind was in tatters, like the time Ripper had acquainted himself with one of Dudley's stuffed bears. Pomfrey had called in experts from St. Mungo's, and all they had managed to do was further scramble the mess that was inside her head. He heard some of the healers from St. Mungo's tell Dumbledore that she was a lost cause, and that they had taken the liberty in contacting her family. Dumbledore thanked them for their efforts, before excusing himself to go meet her father at the floo in his office.
Harry made to follow the headmaster, knowing his presence would come into question if he stayed any longer, but paused momentarily at the carved wooden doors. The dark figure of Severus Snape stood off in the corner on his own. The man was as stiff as a statue, his near black eyes stared unblinkingly at the girl laying peacefully in the bed. His wrist and neck were clenched so tight that he could practically see the blood pumping through his protruding veins. It was then that Harry remembered this was one of his students, a Slytherin, someone who fell under his protection as Head of House, and that part of the blame would be placed on his shoulders. It was an impossible situation to be in, but still Harry could hardly scrounge up the ability to feel bad for the man.
From what he had heard in recent times, she lay in the Hospital Wing still as a corpse. Her condition did not deteriorate nor did it improve, she lay there in limbo waiting for the spark of her life to be snuffed out.
A vigil was held for her this past weekend by a group of her friends in Slytherin. A handful of some of the more compassionate students from each house stood by for a short while before departing. Harry had attended, hidden off in a dark corner beneath his invisibility cloak. Tears were shed, a few even by Draco, and there were many whispered words of regret passed on to the blonde boy who stood by looking as if he had not heard a thing.
The school had not shaken its dispirited feel since.
"Potter," Harry turned at hearing his voice as he walked through the lower floors of the castle having just left the kitchens after a snack. He spotted the dark, lean figure of Blaise Zabini dressed in his Slytherin robes down the corridor.
"Blaise," he greeted, waiting for the boy to catch up.
"You know it's not safe to wander the castle on your own anymore. Especially you in parts like these," Blaise smirked as he matched his stride to Harry's.
"We're more in Hufflepuff territory if you want to get into specifics, and I'm more than capable of watching out for myself," Harry replied evenly. He hadn't spoken to Blaise in a while, and was curious as to what the boy wanted.
"We're still underground, Potter, which is much more familiar to us than your kind up in your towers."
"I won't even ask how you know that information."
"I won't ask how you came across yours," he replied easily.
"I know the castle better than you think," Harry quipped.
Blaise simply hummed in response, his hands crossed in front of his body in clear view. "I've missed you at Slughorn's last few parties, not as much as old Horace, but enough to make the evenings less interesting."
"Snape likes handing out detentions the day the invitations are passed out, it's really an odd coincidence," Blaise smirked at Harry's obvious sarcasm. "I was also sick for an entire week if you've forgotten, but I apologize for not being on hand to entertain you those lonely nights."
"I said less interesting, not entertaining. There are plenty of pretty skirts to keep me entertained, like Weasley's little sister, a right fire cracker that one."
"You have no idea," Harry laughed.
"Marcus Belby blubbering around like a fish out of water, and McLaggen making a fool out of himself trying to get in Granger's knickers was amusing at first, but it's starting to grow stale. We need more Chosen One in our lives to spice it up," he jested as they turned a corner to a hallway filled with rows of empty classrooms. "You'll be at his Yule party won't you? It's the day before term ends, which will let us sleep our hangovers off on the train."
"I have no reason not to go, I'll be there," he hadn't thought much on Slughorn's parties as of late, but he was open to going. It sounded like a good way to end the term, as long as Dumbledore didn't schedule a lesson that evening.
The two of them had spent the previous evening watching a particularly unsettling memory from the perspective of a former magical law enforcement officer. The man, Ogden, was tasked with bringing in Morfin Gaunt for questioning for his role in attacking muggles in the neighbouring village. It was bizarre listening to others converse in Parseltongue as the Gaunts did, but it was obvious they took great pride in their apparent Slytherin heritage. The Gaunts were mad, twisted from generations of inbreeding in the attempt to keep their lineage pure, and were disconnected from reality thinking they were above any sort of law. The memory ended violently and eventually led to the arrest of both Morfin and Marvolo Gaunt.
Most importantly, Harry had learnt the origins of Voldemort from the memory. He met the Gaunts and the terrified little witch, Merope, who later would be Voldemort's mother; and his handsome young muggle father, Tom Riddle, had been present as well. He pitied the muggle man who had been trapped under the effects of a love potion, and wondered if Merope did in fact inherit some of her family's madness.
Dumbledore had asked pointed questions pertaining to the pride and arrogance of the Gaunts, and their delusions of grandeur. He emphasized their focus on the importance of their lineage and how they treasured the family heirlooms more so than their own lives and comfort. Dumbledore specifically spoke on the ancient ring Marvolo wore, with the same sign he had seen on his ancestor's grave in Godric's Hollow engraved on it, and Salazar Slytherin's locket. Again, he felt as if Dumbledore was leading somewhere with their discussions, but still he hadn't managed to quite figure it out.
"… Potter?" Blaise's voice flickered into Harry's consciousness, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"Yes?" Harry replied, looking over at the dark skinned boy next to him.
"You got lost there for a second, Potter," Zabini chuckled, "I was saying, I heard Weasley has been on rocky waters with Thomas as of late. Seeing as how I'm her type, I was thinking maybe I would swoop in and snatch her up for the party," Blaise's white teeth peeked through his charming smile. "You have a date in mind?"
"None at all," Harry laughed as they approached the final classroom of the hall. Harry wasn't entirely truthful in his answer, he had an idea of who he would like to take, but none that were realistic.
"Maybe we could help with that," a voice from his side caught him off guard, as a pair of hands grappled with him and pulled him into the empty classroom.
Whoever was attempting to restrain him was strong as he struggled to free himself from their iron-like grips. With a desperate jerk, Harry managed twist himself just enough to free his holly wand from his holster and jam it under the chin of the figure in front of him.
"Hold up, hold up…" the panicked voice of the male in front of him settled the room, as Harry felt the arms around him loosen.
Harry still kept his wand in position.
"What the hell was that," Harry ground out between clenched teeth as he turned to Blaise who sauntered into the room as casual as always.
"They wanted to speak to you," Blaise shrugged his shoulders, "I engineered this little meet up after I saw you go to the kitchens earlier."
"You couldn't have asked me nicely!?" Harry almost yelled, looking at his 'friend' with a disbelieving look on his eyes.
"What if you said no?" Blaise countered.
"I wouldn't have," Harry shot back, wanting nothing better than to smack the smug Slytherin over the back of the head.
"How was I supposed to know that," he shoved his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the arch of the doorway. "I got him here boys, you're up," he chirped at the two figures.
"Piss off Zabini," the person behind Harry laughed as he tossed him a couple galleons, he could feel their wand slowly retreat from his spine. Harry thought they sounded familiar. "Easy Potter, you can let go of Pucey now."
"Shafiq?" Harry was able to place the voice now. He lowered his wand from Pucey and turned to see the smirking face of the olive-skinned seventh year. "Are you telling me that both of you couldn't have just come up and talked to me like a normal people, why did this have to be so covert?" Feeling a headache forming behind his eyes, he thought how it was times like these that he was happy he chose not to join Slytherin.
"Have you been Confunded these last few weeks, the school is on the verge of blowing up like a bad potions experiment," Harry turned back to Adrian, who was rubbing a wand-tip sized welt underneath his chin, his brown hair hanging well past his shoulders. "The worst thing for us would be seen going up and talking to you."
"Am I not special enough for you anymore?" Harry mocked.
"Potter, even if I wanted to see what is hidden behind those robes of yours, I would find myself at the back of a never ending line of thirteen-year-old girls with your name on the back of their favorite Quidditch jersey," Pucey grinned in response.
"Not to mention you would have to deal with-"
"As much as I want to hear you all banter," Blaise interrupted Shafiq, who shot him a rude hand gesture, "can we move on to the main purpose of this rendezvous."
"What do you want from me?" Harry felt relieved that they were finally reaching the crux of the matter.
"We want to know what happened to Pansy," Pucey's voice lost its playfulness, as it hardened along with his demeanor.
"What makes you think I know what happened to Parkinson? I know just as much as you do." Word on Pansy's condition had spread quickly in the days following her attack. Sure, Harry knew a few more of the specifics having been present in the Hospital Wing, but pretty much everyone in the school had a general idea of what happened.
"We know what's wrong with her, and that she's as good as dead, but we want to know who did it to her. Slytherin is getting restless, Malfoy hasn't spoken a word in days he's so sad, and we want answers."
"What answers do you expect me to give you. You don't think I did it?" Were people thinking that he had attacked Pansy?
"We wouldn't be here standing, and talking if we thought you did," Shafiq replied simply.
"Listen Harry, we get it. We know Slytherin has some loose cannons who can't keep their wand to themselves and curse the odd mud-muggleborn or two, but this went too far," Harry could see the emotion on Adrian's face. It was clear Slytherins cared for their own. Didn't the Sorting Hat say something about finding true friends in Slytherin in his song during first year?
"You think one of my friends did it?" realization dawned on Harry, and a sick feeling took hold of his stomach at the thought of the possibility.
"Who else would have? Slytherin has been seen as a bully for years, the Dark Lord comes back, Abbott's parents are attacked and she leaves school, and then Pansy Parkinson who's been a right bitch to anyone outside of Slytherin for years just turns up brain dead," Pucey ticked his fingers as he listed his points. "It's not some grand coincidence, I think it's pretty damn clear what happened."
"Maybe you have a bad egg in that big batch of friends who meet up in that defense club of yours, or maybe a group of people thought it was time they stick it to a Slytherin and it got way out of hand… you can't deny the motive was there, Harry," Shafiq reasoned with him.
Harry paused for a moment, bile rising in his throat. He forced himself to swallow it back down, before settling himself with a series of breaths. He wanted to tell the Slytherin boys in front of him that they were wrong, he wanted to scream and rant and tell them to take their accusations and stick it up their arses… but he couldn't. The cards were stacked against them, and it all made too much sense.
"Have you asked Daphne?" Harry tried a different approach, not wanting to think any further on the possibility that one of his friends was capable of something like that. "That girl knows everything that goes in the school, has she not said anything."
"You don't think we tried?" Pucey laughed in exasperation, his hand running through his long hair. "Greengrass doesn't say anything she doesn't want to."
Harry looked to Shafiq, who shook his head, "She didn't tell me a thing," he admitted.
Harry's eyes finally turned to Blaise who had remained silent for most of their discussion, "Me?" he chuckled as he pointed to himself, "I'm friends with her, sure, but that doesn't mean we share secrets. Good luck getting anything out of her."
Harry sighed knowing that was exactly what he had to do.
"Let me figure out what happened first," Harry pleaded, to which the boys begrudgingly nodded their heads in acceptance. "Just tell Slytherin to try and not kill any Gryffindors, please."
It had taken much longer than he had hoped to find Daphne, as days went by without him getting the chance to speak with her. They shared nearly all their classes together, but she would always arrive with the rest of the Slytherins preventing him from starting any sort of conversation and would immediately vanish once the class was over. She had even moved across the room from Harry in Potions, citing Ron's subpar ability as a hazard to her own brewing. Slughorn was more than happy to oblige, having taken a liking to the talented student.
His patience was wearing thin as it seemed as if she was toying with him, knowing that he wanted to speak with her.
It was on the weekend during a trip to Hogsmeade that he finally found the opportunity to speak to the girl. Harry was on his way to Mr. Warren's when he spied her silky black hair peeking out from underneath a forest-green hat matched with a scarf of the same color. She stood in front of a store next door that sold and commissioned magical artworks, with Tracey just off to the side.
Not wasting the opportunity, Harry slipped between the two girls and hooked his arm between hers, eliciting a small squeak in surprise. He continued on, leading her through the small painted door of his original destination. "Hello Mr. Warren, do you think you can reapply the normal charms to these?" Harry asked the kindly old man who stood stooped over the counter as he passed over his glasses with one hand, the other arm keeping Daphne close by so she wouldn't leave.
"Of course Mr. Potter," Mr. Warren replied in an ageless voice that carried a hint of pride at the fact he was charming Harry Potter's glasses, "they'll be ready in fifteen minutes," he whistled a light tune to himself as he wobbled to the workshop in the back of his store.
"You could have gone to a genuine enchanter for that," Daphne commented as she wrinkled her nose at the homely store they found themselves in.
"I like Mr. Warren well enough, thanks," Harry responded curtly. "He's quick, he does a good job, and he charges me a fair price."
"I could have been on a date you know," Daphne stated while moving off of Harry's arm.
Harry scoffed at that, "With who, Tracey? I'm not an idiot Daphne, don't treat me as such."
The dark haired girl frowned knowing he had her. "Okay," she straightened herself before crossing her arms over her chest, "what is it you want?"
"I want to know what happened to Pansy," he answered getting straight to the point.
Daphne paled at the mention of the name. She tried to hide it as best as she could, but he could see how affected she was by what happened to the girl. Sharing a dorm with someone for six years forges connections between people that are hard to ignore, despite whatever differences they had. "There's nothing about Pansy that needs to be said, ask anyone and they'll tell you what happened."
"I'll tell you where I was the night you found me up near Ravenclaw Tower," Harry spoke up suddenly, stopping Daphne midway as she was making to leave. There was a pleased smirk playing on her lips as she eyed him critically, before stepping closer to him again.
"Interesting…" she breathed, pushing a strand of loose hair back behind her ear, "an exchange of information. At least you're not asking for it for free," she hummed through pressed lips.
"You've done it before," Harry pointed out, remembering her warning about Malfoy.
"Maybe I was feeling generous," she quipped as she leaned against the front counter, frowning at the dust that now marred her cloak.
"Are you?" Harry tentatively asked, he was hoping she was. He didn't particularly want to tell her anything about the evening he ran into her after speaking to the Grey Lady, but was prepared to tell her something if he could find out more about Pansy's attack. He wanted, no, needed to know what happened to the Slytherin girl.
"Not particularly, but I can be tempted."
"Well I'll tell you then," Harry was confident that he could come up with a convincing enough lie, with just enough of a nugget of truth to be believable.
"No." Harry was not expecting that response from her. "I'm not terribly interested in what you were doing wandering the halls anymore," she let out a bored sigh as if the information was beneath her. Harry was sceptical of the fact that she had suddenly lost interest, but perhaps she figured that whatever he was going to tell her was likely to be a lie.
"What do you want then?" He was growing tired of all these Slytherins and their mind games.
"That's a very dangerous question to ask someone, Potter," there was almost a lethal smirk on her face as she spoke.
"Yes, well, I'm sure I will survive whatever evil you submit me to, Daphne," he replied flippantly, just as Mr. Warren returned from the back of his shop with Harry's glasses wrapped in a piece of cloth. "Thank you," Harry smiled kindly as he passed over his payment with a few extra sickles, to which the old man shook his hand and thanked him graciously.
Replacing his spare spectacles with the newly charmed ones, Harry smiled to himself as the added clarity and sharpness of the world came into effect around him. He had missed the benefits of his charmed eyewear, and had quickly grown tired of having to wipe his lenses during Quidditch or when his hot breath fogged the glass in the cool outdoors.
"You are going to take me to Slughorn's Yule Party," Daphne essentially ordered Harry as they exited the shop together. Harry was brought up short, caught completely off guard by her request.
"Why? You're already going, there's no way Slughorn doesn't invite you," Harry pointed out as he regained a semblance of control and moved to catch up with her as she continued to walk down the street.
"You know the amount of influence Slughorn wields and the circle's he runs in. If I go there alone, I won't be spared a second look by any of his guests, other than the handful of drunken oafs who have a taste for underage witches," Harry had to admit she made a fair point.
"Isn't your family fairly important or something?" Harry pointed out, vaguely remembering something about the Greengrass family and their wealth. Harry wasn't well versed in the intricate politics of Britain, nor did he particularly care either.
Daphne gave a tired sigh in response, clearly noting Harry's ignorance on the subject. "If they wanted to discuss something with my family, they would go speak to my father… not his daughter who hasn't graduated from Hogwarts," she replied simply.
"Why not take McLaggen or someone, he seems like his family is pretty well connected."
"McLaggen is a dolt," her nose twitched in disgust at his name, Harry found it to be rather cute. "He might be one of the most attractive wizards in the school, but he's as dumb as a troll, and as likeable as those Skrewts Hagrid made us raise in fourth year."
Harry laughed, having had come to the same conclusion about the seventh year Gryffindor. Nearly every evening, Harry would hear the boy loudly complaining in the common room to his crowd of admirers of how unfair it was that he the 'better' keeper was kept off the team. Cormac had quieted down for a few days after Gryffindor's opening victory against Slytherin earlier that month, but his rallies had made a comeback in recent days. There was nothing Harry wanted more than to use some of the Prince's more entertaining spells on the arrogant oaf. Hermione had caught him the first time he had attempted it, and lectured his ear off on how irresponsible it was of him to do so. Instead, he took his pleasure in using them on Crabbe and Goyle whenever he could get away with it; Ron had even joined in on the fun as well.
"So… me," Harry surmised.
"Yes, you. There won't be a single person at that party who won't try their best to sneak in a word with you, and I will be there to swoop in when they do," there was a pleased smile on her face, her cheeks rosy from the bite of the wind, and a gleam of satisfaction filled her eyes.
"You're using me," Harry said bluntly. He wasn't accusing her of anything, it was merely a statement of fact.
"Helping you more like," she replied, tugging on his arm and leading him into Honeydukes to pick up some sweets.
"What if I wanted to go with someone else?" Harry posed the question without a real purpose in mind.
Twisting around on her hip, Daphne gave him a blank stare as if she found the question utterly foolish. Standing only a few inches away from the girl, Harry very quickly found himself thinking the same thing. Having already gone through the torture of finding a date for the Yule Ball, Harry knew the pains he would have to go through to find someone for this. Daphne was cutting that part out, and he had to admit that he would be hard pressed to find a more attractive witch to take. That was also ignoring the fact that he enjoyed the time he spent with Daphne, and their quick witted conversations that kept him on his toes.
"Who? Are you thinking of taking Jones?" Daphne enquired, a queer look sat on her face as she paid for a bag of Liquorice Wands.
Harry flushed at the question, "No," he denied. In truth he never had considered taking Megan, she just didn't seem the type to want to go attend fancy parties; he liked that about her.
The same look travelled to her eyes, "Good luck with that," she flipped offhandedly.
"Alright, we'll go together," Harry ceded as they head across the street to the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta took note of their entrance, signalling that she would be with them in just a moment as they took a seat in one of the booths. The two sat in silence for a moment as they waited for Rosmerta to come take their orders.
It was only when Rosmerta came out with their drinks and the plate of chips Harry had ordered, that he took out his wand and cast Muffliato. A confused frown formed on Daphne's pretty face at the sudden buzzing noise in her ears. "Just a privacy charm," Harry explained before continuing, "now, who is responsible for Pansy?" A bubble of anticipation as well as nervousness built within Harry now that he would finally get the answer he was searching for.
Daphne took a long sip from Butterbeer, her hand wiping the thin layer of foam that lined her upper lip, before she answered. "I don't know."
It took a moment for Harry to process her words. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and it stood there gaping until he forced it close with a snap. "What do you mean, you don't know?" Harry didn't want to believe her. He fought the overwhelming sense of disappointment, instead choosing to focus on what Daphne had to say next.
"As you so kindly pointed out to me in the past, I don't know everything. Trust me when I say this, I want to find out who did this to Pansy just as much as you do," she grumbled over the rim of her glass.
Harry made to leave. This was all a huge waste of time, his temper was fraying, and he was frustrated beyond all belief at his lack of progress. He needed to blow off some steam, perhaps go on a walk in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. He hadn't seen his half-giant friend much this year.
He stopped, as the feeling of a soft hand on top of his own froze him in place. "I don't know who did it, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything about what happened that night."
Harry sat back down, maybe he would learn something after all.
"The healers from St. Mungo's mentioned that Pansy was attacked between four to five hours before she was found. That doesn't look good for your friends, seeing as their little defense meeting ended around that time," Daphne gave him a sympathetic look upon seeing the discomfort on his face. "I can give you a list of people who I know didn't do it, if that makes you feel any better," she offered.
Harry nodded, narrowing the field would only be a good thing.
"Granger, Weasley, his sister, Lovegood, Thomas, Finnigan, Brown, the Patil twins, and Bones," she listed, "Astoria went down with them and Macmillan to the kitchens after the meeting." Relief flooded Harry at her words, he never suspected Ron and Hermione for a moment, but the confirmation was still appreciated. "Boot was busy exploring broom closets with his girlfriend, and Goldstein was in detention with Sprout for spilling over one of those rare South American plants she had shipped over this year."
"And the others?" Harry said with a sinking feeling.
"Now you see why I don't know," she leaned back slightly, her eyes never leaving his. "Longbottom hasn't been seen muc-"
"Wait, you can't seriously think Neville did this?" Harry cut her off.
"Longbottom hasn't been seen much lately," Daphne repeated with a clipped tone, clearly not appreciating having been interrupted, "Pansy wasn't one to take it easy on him over the years, and with what happened to Abbott…" she trailed off.
"So you think it was Neville," Harry inferred, not liking what he was hearing.
"Chang," Daphne continued, rather than answer his question, "has not been the same since Diggory died. Her behaviour has been erratic at best ever since, and she's an emotional mess. You know that better than anyone," she smirked. "She was out about the castle after tutoring that new chaser of yours, maybe Pansy caught her at the wrong time and Chang snapped."
Neville and Cho, both people Harry thought he knew pretty well before the incident. The situation was not looking promising.
"Then there is any amount of the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors that are unaccounted for," she added. "You could even throw Malfoy's name in there if you wanted, as suspicious as he's been acting this year… though he's been pretty broken up about the whole thing, so maybe not. Word is he went home for a couple of days after meeting with her father, the man was hoping they would marry after graduation."
"So it's hopeless," Harry surmised, rubbing a tired hand through his hair and down his face.
"I wouldn't say so," Daphne disagreed, "eventually somebody will say something to the wrong person at the wrong time and I'll find out. Let's just hope it is sooner rather than later, and before the hallways turn into a warzone and I'm forced to go to class under a Disillusionment Charm."
"That's what the first war was like apparently," Harry said, remembering what Sirius and Remus had told him about their last few years at Hogwarts. "Nobody was safe. Fights broke out before, during, and after class, everyone was suspicious of each other, and the teachers could hardly maintain any semblance of control. Merlin I hope it doesn't come to that," Harry admitted, before finishing off his glass of Butterbeer and bringing it down with a smack on the table.
Conversation came easy after that, the mood of their little booth turning to a lighter tone. They discussed defense class under Snape, and the vast improvement of the course in comparison to years past. As much as Harry disliked the man, Daphne managed to drag a few reluctant words of praise from him towards his aptitude to teaching the course. They steered clear of serious topics, discussing what their friends had been up to and any interesting gossip around the school. It was here where Daphne shined, showing off the true breadth of what she knew of the goings on at Hogwarts.
After a while, Daphne had turned to probing for the reason behind his sudden success in potions class. She tried to hide it, but he could tell she was frustrated at the fact she no longer was topping the class. "Come off it, Harry," she leaned in while speaking, strands of loose dark hair covering her forehead, "Snape must have given you tutoring instead of remedial potions."
Harry laughed at that, "the last thing Snape would ever do is take time to tutor me." Harry's Occlumency lessons were more akin to torture than tutoring. He knew it was the most effective way of teaching, but it wasn't pleasant by any means.
"Then I give up!" she threw her hands in exasperation, a carefree grin spread across her face, "There is no logical explanation as to ho-" Daphne stopped suddenly, her eyes staring intently at a spot just over his right shoulder. "Isn't that the French Triwizard Champion?"
Harry's heart started to beat faster at her words. What was Fleur doing in Hogsmeade of all places? Had she come to visit him? It had been weeks since he had last seen her, with only a handful of letters exchanged since then.
Harry quickly turned around, his eyes immediately finding her. Her silvery blonde hair was tussled from the cold wind outdoors, a delicate rose painted her cheeks, and she was bundled up in what looked like an oversized brown coat. She still didn't have her own, Harry remembered how he had promised to buy her one for Christmas. The beating of his heart slowed, and an uncomfortable feeling constricted his chest when he spotted who had accompanied her.
"Why is she coming this way?" Daphne's voice was cold and a frown settled on her face as she spoke.
Harry hadn't noticed it at first, but they were in fact approaching the booth he was currently sat in with Daphne. Clearing his features, Harry put a smile on his face.
"Hey Harry!" the cheery voice of Bill Weasley called as he approached, looking as cool and confident as he always did; with his red hair pulled tightly into a ponytail, the dragon tooth earing swinging with each step, and what looked to be a brand new tattoo peaking up just beneath his collar. "How's term been? Defense still your favorite?" he asked, extending his hand for a shake. He didn't seem to notice the Slytherin girl right next to him, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore her.
"Good," Harry's voice was dry and he almost choked. "Lots of interesting stuff. And yeah, even with Snape I still like it," he forced a laugh.
"I pity you," he smiled, slapping him on the shoulder in a good natured way, "I sent chocolates to Ron and Ginny straight from Germany when I found out, it's the least you all deserve for that."
"Ron and Ginny passed them around the common room the day they got them. They were tasty, thanks."
"It's no problem at all, Harry," he gave Harry a toothy grin before stepping in closer. "Speaking of those two, do you have any idea where I can find them? Thought it would be nice to surprise them after not seeing them all Summer."
"I didn't head down to the village with them today, but…" Harry paused for a moment to think. Looking up at Bill, who was waiting patiently for his response, Harry couldn't help but wish he had an older brother like him. Despite the large difference in age, he treated Harry like an equal, and spoke to him like he truly cared. It only made him loathe, the bitter feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. "I'd check Zonko's or Honeydukes, that's usually where they visit first. If not, try Scrivenshaft's next, Hermione likely would have dragged them out there."
"It was good seeing you, Harry!" Bill gave a cheery wave, "I'll see you at Christmas," he parted, stopping for a few whispered words and a kiss on the cheek for Fleur, before leaving the pub behind what looked to be Megan and Katie.
There was a moment of silence after his departure, during which Daphne looked quickly between Harry and Fleur. "I think it's time for me to head back to the castle," she spoke, Harry thought he heard a tinge of annoyance in her stilted words. She stood, brushing some of the dirt off of herself, and made to leave but paused mid-step, "I… had a good time, Harry," she half whispered, turning and leaving no sooner than the words had left her mouth.
Harry was stunned not sure what she meant, until he realized that they had spent the entirety of their afternoon together. Was this considered a date? Harry pushed the thought from his mind.
"I remember 'er," Fleur spoke up for the first time as she replaced Daphne's position. "She was ze one who discovered some of ze more embarrassing moments of my Yule Ball date."
"Sounds like Daphne," he remarked, pushing the plate of the remaining chips in Fleur's direction, to which she silently declined with a wrinkled nose.
"She zhen made me tell 'er about ze second task and my strategy for it, in order to prevent 'er information from slipping out 'accidently'," she added, obviously not liking the girl much after that.
"Definitely Daphne," Harry confirmed with a laugh.
"Zat eez dangerous, non? Looking out only for oneself," it sounded like Fleur was warning him, her eyes looking at him intently.
"I think she would take that as a compliment," Harry said, in fact he knew she would.
"I would not trust 'er affections towards you," Fleur stated in a matter-a-fact way. Harry was about to speak up when she continued on, "she will leave when eet gets too difficult, I know ze type."
Harry chose not to say anything, mostly because he did not know what to say to Fleur. Daphne was very Slytherin in her approach to life, which meant self-preservation was to be expected, but that didn't mean he knew exactly how she thought. Besides, he didn't know what her feelings were towards him to begin with, and wasn't planning on putting in the effort of figuring that out at the moment.
"Hogsmeade…" Harry chewed on the word, breaking the silent awkward air between them. Harry vividly remembered the night he had shared with Fleur under the stars, and the warmth she had provided him, helping him escape the lonely dark place he often retreated to in himself. There was just something about her that drew him in and managed to fill the void deep within his person. There were words unspoken, things he wanted to say, but just couldn't voice. He couldn't be the only one that felt something whenever they were together… at least he didn't want to be, "… a nice a place as any for an afternoon date," Harry forced his foolish thoughts from his mind.
"Eet is not much of a date," she pulled her hair over her shoulder, "Dumbledore wanted more eyes on ze village after zat girl was attacked, and William wanted to see his siblings."
"So the Order knows about that."
"Zhere was an entire meeting about what 'appened to ze girl with all of ze members zat patrol Hogwarts and Hogsmeade," she explained.
It made sense in Harry's mind, they needed the extra support and wands in case something happened again. He had noticed the red robed Aurors patrolling the castle more often than they had done earlier in the year.
"Any other news from the Order?" Harry asked, paying Rosmerta who had come by to clean the table.
"Good news for once," she said with a smile as they stepped out and left the establishment, immediately catching Harry's attention, "ze Werewolves 'ave not sided wiz Voldemort."
"They're fighting against him?" Harry asked surprised but hopeful.
"Non, meester Snape and Dumbledore said zat zey 'ave chosen not to fight. Zey are split over ze war and do not trust Voldemort or ze British Ministry," she answered.
"I don't entirely blame them," Harry spoke as Fleur cast a warming charm that slowly crept up his body, Harry didn't know why his head pretended it had been her hand for a moment, "they're on the losing side of the war either way. The Ministry is afraid and doesn't trust them, while Voldemort treats them like scum and will use them until they outlive their usefulness. People seem to forget that most of them once were witches and wizards like you and me," a touch of bitterness leaked into his voice.
"Zhere eez also bad news," Fleur's voice whispered not wanting to be overheard outside, "ze Giants 'ave sided with Voldemort."
"Well… you can't win them all," Harry chuckled darkly, as that was all he could do. After Hagrid's failed mission with Madam Maxine last year, and the Death Eaters opening communications with the clans, they all knew it was only a matter of time before it became official.
In an effort to take his mind off of the war, Harry enquired as to how her family back in France was doing. He also passed over a couple of letters for Gabrielle and an enchanted carved wooden snitch that flew around its owner when released, that he bought for the girl earlier that morning for Christmas. In that moment, Fleur lit up, her entire countenance changing and her pale blue eyes sparkled with adoration. She spoke of past Christmases at their home, her favorite gifts, traditions, and memories; he had never seen her so talkative before. As she babbled onwards, her eyes off reliving the moments she was describing in detail, Harry simply stared at the woman beside him.
She was a wonder to behold, especially in this weather that heralded the comings of winter. Snowflakes nearly blended in with the silver of her hair, some catching on her long lashes, while others melted from the heat that radiated from her pale skin. She didn't look nearly as tired as she did the last time they spoke, but he could see that much of her underlying stress still remained. However, despite this, he found that these imperfections only added to her beauty. He wondered if Bill saw all of this when he looked at his fiancée.
He had long last track of what she was saying, his mind elsewhere, but when he opened his mouth to ask her a question, his speech was cut off by a piercing scream.
He moved on instinct, his wand out as he raced through the streets of Hogsmeade in the direction of the sound, Fleur right beside him matching step for step. There was no second guessing what he heard, he knew something had gone wrong in the worst way possible. It wasn't a scream of playful fright, one lined with laughter, or the scream a child would make when scared by an older sibling; it was a scream of abject terror. It curdled his blood, chilled his bones, and reminded him of the torturous night in the graveyard.
The weather had turned as if sensing the change in mood. The light hearted beauty of the day had transformed into an unforgiving harshness. The wind whipped through the air, biting at the surface of his skin; the snow once soft and fluffy now stung at his eyes. His scarf had blown away halfway down the path to the castle, but Harry had hardly noticed. It took him a moment to come to the realization that the constant shrieking in his ears did not come from the wind, but from voices at the crest of the hill in front of them.
His lungs were crying out for relief in response to the distance he had ran, and whatever air remained in them exited his body at what he saw at the center of a crowd of students. Floating some fifteen feet in the air, with her arms spread wide in the shape of a cross was Katie Bell. It was nightmarish; her skin almost as translucent as a ghost, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, as she stood suspended in the air like a marionette.
A gaggle of third year girls were weeping, huddled together, refusing to look at the disturbing scene in front of them. Dennis Creevey and his friends stood stock still, eyes wide open, not knowing what to do. In the center of them all was Megan on her knees beside a discarded piece of cloth, wailing and crying out for someone to help Katie.
Fleur saw it before he did, the ornate opal necklace that was partially wrapped by the cloth by Megan's knee. She shot a purple spell at it, one he did not recognize, and Katie came plummeting to the ground below, severing the invisible strings that held her up.
Immediately, Megan began crawling to her friend, but Harry reacted this time by putting up a shield between the two and freezing Megan in place. He was unsure what affect the necklace had on Katie, but he couldn't risk whatever it was possessing Megan as well. Katie lay still as a corpse, and Harry would have mistaken her for one if not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest.
"Move!" Fleur shouted, and the crowd listened. "Do not touch ze necklace!" she added, although that seemed like the last thing anyone wanted to do.
Carefully with her wand, she extracted the cursed necklace and laid it on the earth. She began casting simultaneously between Katie and the necklace, muttering undistinguishable words underneath her breath, her tongue poking out of her mouth in a face of utmost concentration. It was amazing to watch the way she worked, carving runes and various symbols in the earth around the necklace, doing something he did not even know where to begin to understand.
"'Arry," she called his name in between incantations, "reach into my robes, and pull out ze silver knife in my leather pouch."
Not wanting to question her orders when her mind was entirely focused on her work, Harry nodded in acceptance. Reaching his hand down the front pocket of her robes, Harry could feel her slender legs through the soft material. His hand fumbled inside, causing his face to grow hot, before finally he felt a layer of leather at his fingertips.
Unravelling the pouch, he was met with the sight of a host of metal instruments, none of which he knew what to do with. It was under a flap at the end, that he found the silver knife she had requested.
Fleur grabbed it without a word and sliced open Katie's palm, dragging the blade through the scarlet liquid pooling in her hand, coating its outside. Megan opened her mouth in protest, but no sound came out in her frozen state. Fleur let the blood drip slowly onto the surface of the opal necklace, each drop hissing angrily upon touching the jewelry. There was a black smoke and a stink of rotten flesh that filled the air after the tenth drop, "Zhat eez not good," Harry could see the panic in Fleur's eyes and the trembling of her delicate hands as she quickly wiped the blade clean before putting it away.
Tapping her finger against her lips repeatedly, Harry could virtually see her mind whirling around in search of an answer to the problem at hand. He could slowly see a look of remorse leak into her visage with each passing second.
"What's going on here!" a loud voice came from behind the crowd, a head of red hair peaked over the top. "What in Merlin's saggy left-" Bill was brought up short at the sight in front of him. Harry would have laughed after finally finding out where Ron had learnt his favorite phrase, but now was definitely not the right time.
"Ze necklace, eet was cursed," Fleur spoke from where she had been working, her voice taking on a professional quality. "Eet is Romanian een origin I believe, attacks ze nervous system and withers with time," she listed what Harry assumed to be the effects of the curse. "She eez dying slowly. You are more qualified zhan I am, I did what I could," Fleur stepped to the side, giving Bill room to approach the body.
Pulling a silk scarf out of his pocket, Bill gingerly wrapped the necklace and placed it in his pocket. With his wand, he gently levitated Katie into the air, "Everyone back to the castle!" he ordered before leading them on at a brisk pace.
Releasing Megan from his spell, she scrambled to her feet and chased after her friend, not looking back once.
There was a quiet to the air after the storm of chaos had passed. The only sound came from the distant crunching footsteps of Bill and the crowd moving to Hogwarts, and Fleur's soft breaths. Harry leaned over to help pack up the leather pouch Fleur carried, as she wiped the ground clear of her carvings.
"Eet eez a basic Curse-Breakers tool kit," she supplied when she returned it to her pocket, "most Gringotts employees carry one at all times."
"And they want to keep you behind a desk and away from proper field work?" Harry stated with admiration.
Fleur gave him a soft smile and a small blush, "Zhank you 'Arry, but I did not do much. I did not heal 'er," he could hear the disappointment in her voice directed at herself.
"You did something when nobody else could," he stated, not allowing her to reject his praise, "That means something, Fleur, you were amazing… you probably just saved Katie's life," he could see how genuinely touched she was by his words, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes.
She took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of them, their eyes not daring to look away from one another. It was as if a magnet was drawing the two of them together, their body's leaning in without conscious thought. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, the sweet scent of lavender filling his nose just as she hesitated. The space between them was minuscule, as time seemed to stretch on forever, before she closed the distance and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips refused to leave his skin as if they were frozen in place, until finally she peeled them away, the warmth lingering long after it ended.
She turned her head away from his, breaking eye contact, and Harry wished she hadn't. They moved up the path to Hogwarts in silence, no words being able to describe what continued to transpire between them. He wished it was so much simpler, that there was something they could say to each other, but it seemed that it wasn't meant to be.
It was when they rounded the Black Lake along the edge of the school, that Harry heard the scuffling of running footsteps approach them from the side.
"Harry!" Ron's out of breath voice shouted, "Harry!" he called again, his robes flying behind him in the wind, and Hermione struggling to keep up with his long legged strides. "Did you hear what happened?"
"Hear?" there was a tired quality to his voice, "We were there."
"There?" it was Hermione that spoke up this time, looking perplexed, "We just came from there."
It was Harry's turn to frown. "What are you talking about?" Fleur spoke up, Hermione's eyebrows shot up not having noticed Fleur in their hasty approach.
"What is she doing here?" Hermione asked.
"Never mind that," Harry didn't have the time or patience for the squabbles of teenage girls, "what were you talking about?"
"Spiders, mate," Ron was pale as a ghost, "spiders…" he repeated a second time. Ron really, really did not like the eight legged creatures.
"Spiders?" what did some small creature have to do with Ron and Hermione chasing after them.
"It's second year all over again," Ron tremored as he spoke, "it's Aragog's kids."
Harry's heart stopped. It wasn't some small spider that had Ron running for the hills, it was the goliath acromantula's that inhabited the Forbidden Forest. He had thought he had seen the last of the creepy-crawlies with a taste for human flesh when they had escaped Aragog's nest in the back of Arthur's rogue Ford Anglia, but he had encountered another one in the maze during the Third Task. He could feel the pulse in his leg where that particular Acromantula had bit him, phantom pains of the venom swirling in his bloodstream caused him to grimace.
"Where?" Harry asked, wondering if he had gone mad after doing so.
"By Hagrid's," Hermione replied.
Harry came to the conclusion that he had definitely gone barmy, there was no other explanation as to why he was willingly going out to confront the monstrous spiders.
"Wait, what happened?" Hermione's voice stopped his advance for a split second, clearly referring to what he and Fleur had witnessed.
"Katie's been cursed," Harry felt sick at the words, "it's… really bad. Fleur will take you," he broke into a sprint after breaking the news, not caring if his friends heard him or not, or if they objected to what he was about to do next.
The grounds were empty, hinting that there had been an evacuation of sorts. Harry was forced to slow his pace as he travelled down the hill leading to Hagrid's just at the edge of the forest. Passing through the various gardens and pens containing some of the tamer creatures for Hagrid's class, Harry came across a series of enormous black masses curled up on their backs. Some were split in two, others were squashed to pieces, and the odd one even had a crossbow bolt embedded somewhere in its hairy body.
Harry could see the flashes of spell fire from the opposite end of Hagrid's home, but his attention was quickly directed to the handful of furry black dots charging at him. In the moment before the first spider struck, Harry debated with himself whether the glossy unblinking black eyes of the Acromantula were creepier than the sound of their pincers clicking and clacking together. As he ducked under the first spider's pounce, venom dripping onto the back of his neck, he decided that they were equally unnerving, but nothing compared to the half-formed syllables and words the magical spiders attempted to hiss out.
If there was one creature Harry wouldn't mind being exterminated from the world, this would be it. As much as Hagrid loved Aragog, he figured the world would be a better place without him and his kind; and Harry was more than ready to do his part in eliminating them here and now.
Harry's wand flashed upwards to the Acromantula that was currently overhead. As the deep red light of his spell crashed into its soft underbelly, it exploded into tiny bits of mush and gore, its eight legs shooting off in eight different directions.
He could hear the high-pitched screams of rage come from its remaining brothers and sisters, the air rumbling like thunder as they all stampeded towards him.
One of the more enraged spiders reared up on its back two legs, its pincers smacking together madly spraying its venom through the air like some slobbering old dog. Maybe it had shared an egg with the dead one, Harry thought. Seeing the opportunity to strike against this one, Harry tried a spell he had been itching to use for weeks now.
For enemies, it said in the Prince's hand writing. This was certainly a situation that applied to its description.
Sectumsempra, he shouted clearly in his mind, the holly wand in his hand tracing perfectly the wand movement required. From the tip of his wand shot what appeared to be a scarlet ribbon that slashed through its target like an invisible sword, spurting black blood from the gaping wound in the center of its body.
Harry's eyes widened at the effects of the spell. Inherently dark indeed, Dumbledore was not exaggerating when referencing some of the spells in the old potions book. It was a good thing he had waited to test this spell out rather than use it on Crabbe and Goyle whenever they annoyed him during Defense class. It was an even better thing he hadn't used it on Snape like he had wanted to, seeing as how he had already attacked the man once in class, albeit doing so in self-defence.
The spider was dead, the spell was more than effective, and together that gave Harry more than enough reason to continue using it.
He picked off two more with this powerful new spell, before the Acromantula adapted having realised the threat it posed to them. They skirted around the perimeter of a twenty-foot area, just far enough that they had time to dodge the spell that was so affective against them, and just close enough that they could reach Harry in a matter of seconds.
It was a waiting game they played, as the spiders slowly surrounded him on all sides. There were five of them left now. It reminded him of something Muggle's called a Mexican standoff, but rather than guns, it was Harry with his wand and gigantic spiders with their pincers.
The clicking and clacking was deafening to Harry's ears at this point. A few of the spiders would dart forwards and backwards, forcing Harry to turn slowly in a circle in the effort to keep them all at bay. His heart was pounding within his chest so hard he was shocked it hadn't burst, while sweat dripped down his face and neck.
It was in the blink of an eye that they struck; one in front, and one directly behind him by the sound of things. It was choreographed, which was a scary thought, one sacrificing itself so that its kin would succeed, an ever scarier thought. Harry wasn't planning on going down easily.
He killed the first one as expected, the Prince's spell tearing right through it. A repeat of the same spell wouldn't work, the spider having gotten too close for him to react and its exact location unknown with his back turned to it. Instead, Harry resorted to a flexible variant of cursed fire he had read in the Dark Arts book Dumbledore had passed on to him. It wasn't a pleasant spell by any means, designed to melt the flesh off of a living body, but the situation called for it. It was usually targeted on humans, but he figured it would work similar enough on the giant spiders.
With an extravagant twirl, channeling the deep heat he felt within his body whenever he was around Fleur, a flash of fire scorched through the air and hit the Acromantula mere feet away from him. It screeched in unholy agony, disintegrating before his very eyes, but its previous momentum caused its charred remains to careen into his body. The force of it caused him to stumble, and he cursed as a searing pain burned into the side of his neck and face.
That one moment of distraction put him on the back foot, as the now three remaining Acromantula were charging him at once. Flashing the flame through the air, Harry manipulated the magic behind it and shaped it around his closest foe. A great ball of fire hovered in the air where the spider used to be, and when he collapsed it inwards, only speckles of black dust floated down, melting through the snow below.
He had taken too long with his impressive feet of magic, as when he turned around, he only had enough time to partially twist his body as one of the last two remaining creatures barreled into him with a force that rattled his teeth. He flew to the ground, the breath knocked out of him, just as a set of hairy legs climbed on top of him. The smell was horrendous, like a body that had been left to rot in a heap of trash during the heat of summer. How Hagrid thought having one of these as a pet was a good idea, was beyond him.
Its pincers snapped at his face and Harry just twisted his head out of the way in time, the displaced air of the near miss kissing his cheek. He much preferred Fleur's kiss to this last one.
A blow from his wand was enough to knock the creature on its back, far enough away for Harry to clamber to his feet. He immediately banished the smoking remains of the earlier corpse at the other spider still charging him. The smell of one burnt spider, burning the hair and flesh of another was too much to handle. Harry retched in his mouth, and spat it out with tears streaming down his eyes. He promised himself a long visit to the Prefect's bathroom after this, he was desperate enough that he didn't care if Myrtle showed up and spied on him again.
With the Acromantula now distracted by its burns, Harry blasted it like the first, leaving only a smear of pulp behind.
Turning his head, he spotted the last of the spiders crawling to its feet. As it did so, Harry noticed that he had thrown it back to the spot where he had incinerated one of the others, its flaky ashes lying underneath its now standing sibling. A flash of inspiration hit him that moment, a cruel bit, but one that would end the battle.
With a half-twirl and a downward flick of his wand, Harry transfigured the spiders' ashes into shards of glass, which he then promptly summoned upwards from underneath the remaining Acromantula. One second the spider looked ready to charge, the next it lay dead on the ground with more holes in it than a pin cushion, a shower of glass flying up in the sky twinkling like diamonds in the sunlight.
Harry bent over, his hands on his knees, to catch his breath. He spat out the remaining bile in his mouth, before scooping up a handful of snow and pressing it against the burns on his neck and face.
Walking around Hagrid's hut to where he saw spell fire earlier, Harry came across a dozen more corpses surrounding Dumbledore and Hagrid who had his crossbow slung over his shoulder.
"…you have my deepest sympathies. How much longer do you think he has?" Harry caught a snippet of their conversation.
"It's hard ter say, he's not gettin' any better and his kids are gettin' kind o' funny," the half-giant spoke, gesturing to the carnage around them. Harry assumed they were speaking of Aragog.
"Yes, well the issue will need to resolve itself in time," Dumbledore spoke aloud, "Are you still able to travel to the colony?" he asked Hagrid.
"It's been so long, it's hard ter think we won't be tergether forever…" Harry thought he heard a sob escape Hagrid, "I can still travel ter the nest as long as Aragog's alive," Hagrid sounded heartbroken.
"Then let us hope he finds a second wind and surprises us all. Our world is one full of miracles," Dumbledore placed a consoling hand on his former students back. It looked comical with how Dumbledore's arm was stretched so high to reach the big man's shoulders, but it was still a heartwarming sight.
Hagrid gave a sorrowful nod, before trudging back to his hut where Fang sat on the front porch, somehow managing to have slept through the chaos that had just transpired.
"I see you managed to join in on some of the excitement, Harry," Dumbledore spoke as he turned around to greet Harry.
"I guess you could say that, it certainly hasn't been a boring day," he walked forward to stand next to his headmaster.
"When those few Acromantula managed to slip past me and Hagrid, I feared Minerva or Filius would need to act to protect the children. I am correct in assuming you managed to stop them?" It was a question that didn't need to be asked, but required an answer anyways.
"They won't be causing any problems," Harry replied, to which Dumbledore gave a grim smile.
"Very impressive, Harry, very impressive indeed," he spoke mostly to himself while stroking his beard. "I would recommend getting that burn looked at by Madam Pomfrey Harry, as impressive as scars sometimes look, I think you could do without another one," Dumbledore advised. Harry had thought it was simply a small burn on his side, but the pain that now radiated from half of his face suggested otherwise.
"I think Madam Pomfrey might be a bit busy at the moment," Harry suggested, a dark undertone to his voice.
"Ah, so you are aware of what happened to Miss Bell," there was a cold look to Dumbledore as he spoke.
"I was there when it happened. Fleur stabilized her long enough for Bill to take her back to school," Harry informed him, even though he was fairly sure Dumbledore already knew.
"I had hoped the extra Order presence in Hogsmeade would be simply precautionary, but I am glad my foresight proved effective in this case. I could not bear losing another student," there was a devastated look in Dumbledore's blue eyes.
"So Katie will survive?" Harry had hoped she would, but was never certain.
"Between Severus, Poppy, and William, I am sure things are well in hand for Miss Bell's eventual recovery," Dumbledore answered which brought a smile to Harry's face. "I would like it if you stepped forward for a moment Harry," Dumbledore requested, to which Harry complied.
"Now reach out and tell me what you feel," Dumbledore prompted.
Just as he did when learning apparition, Harry searched for the ripples of magic in the world around him. He felt the normal tide swirl around his back and sides, but directly in front of him was an impenetrable wall. There was no movement forwards or backwards through the barrier, almost as if it were made out of steel.
"There's a wall," he replied, "it's made of powerful magic... ancient. I don't see how anything could get through it."
"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore congratulated, "what you are feeling are some of the protective wards that have surrounded Hogwarts for hundreds of years. They were created to keep unwanted things out."
"Then how did the Acromantula get in?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled having predicted the question, "Tell me what you feel here," Dumbledore pointed to a space twenty feet to their right.
Harry moved to the area, but this time where he expected to run into the magical barricade, it was gone. It hadn't been removed purposefully or with any precision, but rather it had been torn out in great chunks. "What happened?" Harry said shocked.
"To that, I can only guess. It is possible that some of the protections added to the castle at the beginning of the year could have reacted poorly with the older enchantments and caused this," Dumbledore hypothesized, but there was something in his voice that made it sound as if he did not believe his own words.
"Will it happen again?" Harry asked with trepidation.
"I certainly hope not," Dumbledore replied with an unnerved look in his eyes.
It was something Harry had never thought he would see, a moment where Dumbledore had no explanation for something that had gone wrong. A cold chill settled at the base of his spine at the implication of what that could possibly mean.
AN
Hello again, I'm back with a very quick update! I was on a bit of a role following the last update, and found this chapter very easy to write.
We begin to see the repercussions of Pansy's attack starting to take shape, and how the students within the school are reacting. Nobody really knows what is going on, so there's an added bit of chaos thrown into the mix along with the tension between houses. A couple of new characters that I only mentioned briefly beforehand are introduced, I hope you enjoyed Shafiq and Pucey.
I decided against going into great detail on the memory of Ogden visiting the Gaunt. As amazing as JK Rowling did in writing that entire scene/sequence, I felt that it was one unnecessary in the flow and direction that I am taking the story. Still it is touched on briefly, for fairly obvious reasons.
A little bit more focus on Daphne this chapter. Her time with Harry this chapter was not meant to go as long as it did, but I liked the way the characters were interacting and the flow of their conversation so it kind of grew from there.
Fleur was brought back, as promised, and I hope you enjoyed her interaction with Harry. I felt that the slight awkwardness between them in a normal setting was only natural, given their past few interactions, which were fairly emotionally charged. She also has a bit of a badass moment, which is cool as well. However, I do want to address something at this point. I know a lot of you want to see a lot of Fleur, and how her and Harry's relationship develops, and I promise that you will. But this story is primarily focused on Harry's growth over time, both as a person and a wizard. It's his story, his journey, and focuses on how he will eventually take the fight to his enemies. Fleur plays an important role in Harry's story, and will continue to be one of the main characters, but the story is not primarily a romance (see the tags in the story description). Romance is a part of it, yes, and has its place, but it will grow naturally in the background.
I hope you all enjoyed the action that unfolded at the end of the chapter, I had A LOT of fun writing that scene. I very much would like to here your thoughts on it!
Reviews are always appreciated, they help me out, and are a great motivator to keep me writing. As always, if you have any questions, comments, or have found something I have hid into the text for a future plot point, let me know.
Until next time.