Hello there. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a long time! Sorry :( I was busy at the Fencing Nationals and then life got in the way and then I got writer's block and so on and so forth. Eesh. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter... sorry for the long wait, though!

Well, now I'm getting a healthy mix of criticism and compliment (hehe) so thank you to anyone who gave me any advice or any feedback at all. Even if it's negative, at least I know what I'm doing wrong so I can work to fix it. :) Thank you especially to those who wrote me long reviews; yes, I do read them all and I appriciate your comments very much!

To answer a couple of questions: 1) Dumbledore did not perform the spell on Sirius, but Sirius by nature has always been fond of James and likely to act as he does, and furthermore, he's extremely suspicious of Slytherins in general, coming from the family that he does. 2) Eric will indeed mature, although it will be a little longer before he shows it. He's a smart kid and will not let his emotions and upbringing blind him from logic forever.

Now then, read on! :)

Chapter 11: Of Dragons and Duels

Harry flipped through a large tome titled A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry, searching for information on the Sorcerer's Stone. Passing through the section of developments starting with 'S', he sighed heavily and closed it with a thud. None of the books he'd looked through had offered him any information on the subject – not even a passing mention.

He stood up and stretched out, his back cracking, and then collected his belongings to leave the library. There wasn't usually a limit on how long he could spend in a library without getting bored, but this was just mindless searching. He could read for hours about an intriguing topic, but sorting systematically through encyclopedias… well, it wasn't exactly his idea of enthralling.

It was now the third week of March and finally the weather was becoming a little more tolerable. The grounds were still quite wet, but the rainstorms were now often punctured by periods of patchy sunshine and then clouds. Harry peered out a window that faced the Quidditch pitch, watching the Ravenclaw team at practice. Their chasers were exceptionally good this year, he noticed, as one made a particularly fantastic shot. Looking away again, he checked his watch and started to stroll up to the Room of Requirement to be early for his appointment with Lyrian at two o'clock.

The castle was bustling with students of all ages in the halls. He passed a group of fourth year Hufflepuff boys laughing at one of the portraits, and he saw Fred and George Weasley entertaining some Gryffindor second years with a joke potion that made the drinker speak backwards for hours. It seemed that the Slytherins didn't often roam the halls as much as the other houses; during his trip up to the seventh floor, Harry only noticed a pair of seventh year Slytherin girls strolling quietly to the Great Hall.

Upon reaching his destination, he stopped at wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and paced back and forth, wishing for the usual classroom he had with Lyrian to appear. On the third pass, the door materialized. He turned the knob and entered, feeling immediately at home in the familiar room.

The targets were there as usual. Harry quickly muttered the charm he had learned from Lyrian to make them zoom around in the air, so that while he waited for Lyrian to arrive, he could practice his aim and his aura-seeing ability. He was getting rather good at it now that he'd done it a few times. He was so focused on hitting the targets that he didn't even notice it when he heard a voice behind him.

"You're getting quite good, you know. Much better than I was when I first started," praised Lyrian, smirking. "Then again, I didn't start training until I was twelve or thirteen. The defense against the dark arts teacher in my second year was really into dueling, and he got me fascinated with it as well."

Harry jumped at first, not having heard Lyrian enter, but then a warm glow of pride erupted in his stomach. That was one of the things he liked most about training with Lyrian. The older boy always let him know when he was doing well – something he heard precious little of while growing up. Even the teachers these days in his classes seemed to expect a high level of performance out of him, so after the first few weeks they stopped mentioning how well he'd done. It had simply become the norm for him to exceed expectations.

"Now that you've got a bit more experience in aim and aura-reading, why don't we have a quick duel?" Lyrian suggested.

"With you?" exclaimed Harry. "You'll probably knock me out; there's no way I'll stand a chance."

"I'll go easy until you get a little better, if you insist," drawled Lyrian, his golden hair shining in the light.

"Well, don't go easy," said Harry with a wince. He didn't like anyone thinking he was weak. "Just don't use deadly spells, okay?"

"Fine," relented Lyrian, flicking the hair out of his eyes in annoyance.

As if on cue, a classic dueling strip formed itself out of the floor of the Room of Requirement, and Lyrian moved to one end. Harry, taking the hint, made his way to the opposite side.

"I haven't ever dueled anyone before," he admitted a little embarrassedly.

"No matter. You'll learn fast," grinned Lyrian sadistically, and before Harry could say anything, he charmed numbers in the air to start counting down – 3, 2, 1, duel!

"Distraho!" cried Lyrian immediately. Harry deftly dodged the yellow light that whizzed by his head, idly wondering what spell it was. Before he could start to fight back, Lyrian shot another spell at him. "Terrere mentus!"

Just barely getting out of the way of that spell, Harry quickly fired a spell of his own. "Locomotor mortis!"

Lyrian conjured a shield and the spell bounced off harmlessly. Harry couldn't even hear the next spells that Lyrian fired his way because the boy kept his voice low, but it didn't end up mattering to him much. He was more focused on dodging the curses than using countercharms and anti-jinxes.

The two continued like that for a few more minutes when Harry finally became too tired of dodging spells and, exhausted, got hit by a particularly strong "Petrificus totalus" from Lyrian. He fell back, paralyzed, and registered his back feeling sore from the impact on the floor but being able to do nothing about it.

Lyrian appeared in his vision a moment later. "You really need to learn shield charms," he noted with a smirk. "You're fairly quick but you can't rely on dodging everything."

Harry blinked in what he hoped was a very angry fashion.

"Oh fine, I'll release you," Lyrian rolled his eyes and muttered the countercharm. Harry felt instantaneously much more in control of his body, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

"Teach me the shield charm, then," said Harry resolutely, his green eyes rebellious.

"It's a fifth year charm, you know," commented Lyrian. His demeanor was casual, although a twinge in his voice was almost daring Harry to back down at the warning.
"All the better reason to start learning early then," quipped Harry, grinning impishly. Lyrian's lips curled into a satisfied smirk, and he began to show Harry the wand motion.

For a while the two practiced shield charms, but Harry wasn't having any luck. He'd manage just a poof of a shield out of his wand and then it would flicker and disappear. Even Lyrian was getting a little frustrated with the lack of progress, so after a good fifteen minutes they switched back to doing dark magic.

"You're more of a natural with dark spells than anything, I think," mused Lyrian. "That's the only thing you've done consistently well within the first few tries. Take the jinx I taught you last time, for example. That's definitely something that no one under fourth year would even dream of learning, but you managed it perfectly on the third try. And yet when you're confronted with shield charms and other light spells, you're just as incompetent as the next first year."

Harry wasn't quite sure whether to feel offended or pleased at Lyrian's words, and he settled instead for a smile that perhaps was a bit like a grimace. They set to back to work.

Harry loved the feeling of casting dark spells. It filled his whole body with joy, tingling with a kind of burning release. After casting one dark spell and experiencing a particularly strong surge of pleasure, he had to know why it felt that way.

"Why does dark magic feel so…" Harry started to ask, searching for the right word.

"Amazing? Euphoric?" offered Lyrian, his bright eyes glinting.

"Yeah," agreed Harry, sighing happily.

"Dark magic is stronger and purer than light magic. It is true that while the difference between light, gray, and dark magic is often about the intention of the caster, there is still a basic change in the mechanics of the spellcast when the spell is going to be dark," explained Lyrian, pacing around the room.

Harry listened, his sharp green eyes locked onto the older boy. "How so?"

"You can use most light spells for any old thing. When you use dark spells, though, you have to be completely committed to your goal for it to work right. And when you make such a connection with your magic and willpower, the strongest and rawest forms of your magic are dredged up from your magical core."

"So why don't really powerful light spells have the same result?" asked Harry.

"Well, to some extent, they do," admitted Lyrian. "But most light wizards and witches don't ever get to that level of magic. The kind of stuff that Dumbledore did to defeat Grindelwald – involving the most powerful ancient light spells – probably gave him a sensation of pleasure from having so much raw magic run through him."

"So you'd say that dark magic is just easier, then?"

"Yes and no. For you and me, it's definitely easier, of course. We have events in our past that predispose us to be able to use our anger, our hatred, our need for vengeance," hissed Lyrian. His blue eyes shined with dangerous intensity, like the sharp stare of a raptor regarding its prey. "For most of the population, extreme emotion of any type – anger or not – is fleeting and hard to harness. Emotion and true intention brings out the raw magic within us."

"I see," said Harry. "I suppose my brother will probably be one of those light wizards, then – the ones that use raw light magic."

"He does seem to be on that path, especially with how he is getting special attention from teachers," agreed Lyrian. The fifth-year Slytherin let out a short sigh, shaking his head. "Whatever. Come on, Harry, let's duel again."

Lyrian smiled at him and, tentatively, Harry smiled back. He soon learned that whenever he would duel with Lyrian, he would always end up nursing scratches and bruises everywhere. It was exhausting and painful, and yet at the same time he felt like he was really making something of himself.

- - -

"Potter, I need the cloak for tonight," Sonia told him. The look in her eyes told him that it wasn't a question.

"Why?" he asked. He couldn't hide the challenging tone to his voice. Irrationally, he felt like he had done the hard work by retrieving it, so that it was his property – even though she had been instrumental in the brewing of the potion.

"Does it matter?" she snapped. "It's as much mine as yours, so hand it over."

"Fine," Harry relented, switching tactics. "D'you need any help with what you're doing, then?"

"No," said Sonia shortly. Harry shrugged and jogged up the stairs to the dormitory to fish the cloak out of his bag.

When he reached the first year boys' room, he stopped in the doorway when he heard voices. Peeking to the side, he saw Draco, Theodore, and Blaise were all sitting on Blaise's bed, talking. As soon as Harry entered the room, they stopped abruptly.

"What're you doing here, Potter?" Theodore growled accusingly.

"Perhaps you've forgotten, but this is my dormitory too," Harry replied coolly. "Sorry to interrupt your little party."

Blaise seemed similarly miffed, but Draco was regarding him appraisingly. He caught Harry's eyes and then turned to the other two boys. "I think we can trust Potter with this much, at least," he said evenly.

"But he'd probably just go tattling to his goody-goody brother," Theodore began bitingly, but Draco cut him off.

"I think by now he's proven that he has no love for his brother or the Gryffindors in general," reasoned Draco.

"That's just what he wants us to think!" Theodore insisted.

"Oh, shut it, Theo," snapped Draco, rolling his eyes.

"Why the change of heart, Malfoy? At the beginning of this year, you didn't seem so sure about me," said Harry suspiciously, still standing a good distance away from them, his arms akimbo and his head cocked to one side.

"I'm not stupid, Potter," sniffed Draco. "And besides, at the beginning of the year, you were a wild card, Slytherin or not. Now at least you've chosen your loyalties well."

Harry nodded mutely, accepting the answer. To the boy's credit, he had noticed that Draco hadn't been hostile to him for quite a while. Draco moved over on the bed and ostensibly made room for Harry. Blaise started stonily at him and Theodore scowled when he took a seat.

"So what's all the secrecy about?" asked Harry curiously as he settled himself on the bed.

"Basically, this genius," gestured Blaise, pointing to Draco, "got extra-nosey this morning."

"I'm not nosey," Draco felt compelled to say. He then added, smiling, "I'm just observant."

"Sure," said Blaise neutrally.

"And what were you doing?" Harry prompted, regarding the blonde boy with interest.

"I saw your twin, the Weasel, and that Mudblood Granger all going down to Hagrid's whispering about something happening in Hagrid's hut this morning before Herbology," Draco said, smirking. "Soon they went down to see the great oaf – I had to follow, of course, to see what they were up to, and you wouldn't believe what I saw there."

At this, Theodore stopped his frowning at Harry and entered the conversation enthusiastically. "A dragon!"

Draco looked put out. "Way to ruin the suspense, Theo."

Theodore shrugged but then looked to Harry for his reaction. Harry's brows were furrowed and skepticism was written clearly across his face. "A… dragon? There's no way Hagrid could fit anything bigger than himself into that hut."

"Not a fully grown dragon, you dolt," said Theodore scathingly. "A baby dragon – a hatching one."

"Next time elaborate, then, Nott. I'm not a mind-reader, you know," said Harry frostily. He then thought of Legilimency, and couldn't help the half-smile that formed on his lips. Not a mind-reader yet, anyway. If he could ever master Occlumency he intended to become a Legilimens himself.

"Yes, well, a great egg was on the table there and there was a spiny black dragon breaking through it," Draco detailed. "Just as it finished hatching, Hagrid looked up and saw me in the window. I sprinted back to the castle just in time."

"So you didn't get caught?"

"Nope," Draco said smugly. "But now I've got some dirt on Hagrid. I don't know how he plans to hide a dragon, but now I've basically got blackmail to use against him."

"Nice," said Harry appreciatively.

"Now the question is," Blaise interjected, "what are we going to do with that blackmailing power?"

"And Potter… not you, obviously… Weasley, and Granger probably know that Draco was the one to see them," Theodore added. "So they'll probably want to keep Hagrid safe, and we can use that to our advantage."

"So we've got blackmail on them, too, if we bank on their attachment to Hagrid," reasoned Blaise, his dark eyes thoughtful.

Just then, a knock sounded on the dormitory door, which Harry had closed behind him for more privacy. "I'm waiting, Potter!" an annoyed female voice sounded, muffled on the other side. Sonia.

Harry jumped up at once – he'd forgotten all about getting the cloak for her.

"Shit… gotta go, guys," he told them regretfully. "Talk to you about this later?"

"Yeah, sure," said Blaise dispassionately.

"What's she waiting for, eh Potter?" Draco teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Theodore laughed.

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Harry shot back at him, grabbing his bag, but he was smiling. He made his way to the door just as another series of pounding knocks thudded on the door.

"If you're not out in another five seconds, I don't care that it's the boys' dormitory! I'm coming in!" Sonia yelled. Her voice died off just as Harry opened the door.

Harry stepped outside and closed the door behind him, muffling the catcalls and jeers from the other boys behind him.

Sonia stood quietly next to him, her cheeks a little pink from screaming. "What did you tell them, Potter?" she asked him accusingly, having heard snippets of the jeers from within.

"Nothing, they just like to assume," said Harry, rolling his eyes. He looked up and down the staircase to make sure no one else was near.

"Here," he offered her, quickly taking the cloak out of his bag and putting it in her hands. She put it on immediately and promptly disappeared from sight.

"There's a spell for that, you know," she said quietly to his side. Harry spun and faced the direction of her voice – she'd moved a bit, just to unsettle him.

"For what?" he whispered back.

"To find out if anyone else is in the immediate area," she explained. "The incantation is deprehensio animos."

"Brilliant, thanks," Harry said sincerely. He loved learning new and useful spells.

"Later, Potter," she whispered, and, only because he was listening closely, he heard the padding of quiet footfalls down the stairs.

He went down to the common room and out, heading to lunch in the Great Hall. He'd catch up with the other boys later; it was far more fun to let them think he was still with Sonia than to go right back in to talk with them.

- - -

Severus,

As you are aware, I am still on the lookout for any sign of the Dark Lord. My searching had yielded nothing until recently – I heard whispers that his soul has found a host… that he is sharing the body of one of his followers.

I wish our Lord would contact those of us most loyal to him and trust us with his identity… but alas, it seems that he is acting alone for now – if these rumors are to indeed be believed. I have contacted a number of those loyal to the Dark Lord to inquire if they are hosting our master, but all responses are, so far, negative.

I confess I am disappointed, but nonetheless, I implore you – keep an eye out for anyone who may be hosting our Lord or have information about his whereabouts. I have an item of his which he entrusted to me just before his downfall, and I feel it may aid his 'resurrection' should we find confirmation of his soul's existence.

Now to other matters. I trust Draco has been performing well, in a manner befitting a Malfoy heir, in his potions classes and elsewhere? Any complaints – any at all – and I urge you to contact me at once. I will not have a misbehaving, underperforming son.

I eagerly await any news you may have,

Lucius Malfoy

Severus Snape reread the letter and placed it on his desk with a sigh. He, too, had heard rumors stirring in places such as Knockturn Alley of the Dark Lord – although originally, he had spoken to Dumbledore about the matter.

Dumbledore had informed him that some magical alarms he had put in place many years ago had, this past summer, detected a faint echo of Voldemort's magical signature once again within Britain. He had urged Snape to inform him of any news he might be privy to regarding Voldemort, but little had occurred since then.

Snape rubbed his eyes wearily and sat down. He hadn't received any indication that Voldemort was around, but he was sick and tired of dealing with Quirrell. The greedy, impetuous young man was after the Sorcerer's Stone that he had helped to hide inside the school, and Snape for one wasn't about to let him get to it.

Snape would have thought that the man was the host to Voldemort, but he was a coward and fairly weak-willed – something the Dark Lord would never look for in a follower with which to share a body. Snape had even used Legilimency on him and found nothing but pointless, unrelated memories. Fortunately, as far as Snape could tell, Quirrell would never make it near the Stone. He couldn't even find his way past that bloody Cerberus of Hagrid's.

Still thinking of Legilimency, his mind wandered once again to Harry Potter. When he had used Legilimency on the boy he had encountered a strong mental shield… something he'd never seen in someone so young. Even more concerning was that he knew that the last time he'd brushed the boy's mind with Legilimency, after the flying incident with his brother at the beginning of the year, there wasn't even a sign of any shield at all. He must have somehow created the barrier in the past months, and that was no easy feat.

At least he knew that Potter was still an amateur. While those who attempted to learn Occlumency could sometimes manage a shield like his, only the masters were able to hide the shield altogether with false or unimportant memories. That was extremely rare, however. As far as he knew, only the Dark Lord, Dumbledore, and himself were able to achieve that kind of skill. It was something that Snape prided himself on very much – after all, the other two masters he knew of were the greatest wizards of the age.

Taking a deep breath, Snape grabbed some parchment and a quill and began to pen a letter back to Lucius. He was curious about the item that Lucius mentioned, the one that might aid the Dark Lord in returning. That was the sort of information he should probably report to Dumbledore, but it had been a long time since he had actually worked as a spy, and now that the former Death Eaters were not actually in service to the Dark Lord, they were much more pleasant to interact with.

For now, simply finding out what Lucius was talking about would do. He'd decide depending on the answer if it was important enough to mention to Dumbledore.

- - -

"It's perfect," said Blaise with satisfaction. "If we're lucky, your idiot brother will get killed in the process, too."

"Yeah," agreed Harry blankly. While he wasn't quite sure he wanted Eric dead, he agreed a decent scare would be good for him.

The Slytherin first year boys had agreed on a suitable event to use their blackmail on. They were going to threaten the Gryffindor trio to meet them in the Forbidden Forest for a duel – and then not show up. Harry had performed some rather complicated magic to create a sort of map for them, so that they'd have a destination. Every time they would tap the parchment with their wands, it would show them the direction they'd need to go in and how many yards to keep at it.

Both Draco and Blaise had been visibly impressed at Harry's magical ability, even though they knew logically that he was the best in their year by far. Theo was less inclined to display awe for anything Harry did, but Harry had still caught him staring at the parchment appreciatively when he thought Harry wasn't looking. Harry glowed with pride – finally, these boys were beginning to accept him and his long hours in the library and practicing magic were paying off.

"The best part is, they probably know we're not going to show, just like when I challenged them last time," Draco sniggered. "And they can't do a thing about it unless they want Hagrid chucked out of the school for possession of a dragon."

Blaise smirked. "Ah, Gryffindors. So easy to capitalize on their pointless affection for one another."

Harry chuckled in agreement as he walked down a corridor with the three. As they entered the Great Hall, Tracey Davis was heading past them in the opposite direction. She slowed down and caught Harry's eye, giving him a sly smile, before continuing on.

"Sweet Merlin, Potter, what is it with you and all the girls?" Draco exclaimed as soon as she was out of sight.

"Oh come off it, Draco," he said easily, slipping and calling Draco by his first name for once. "They don't like me like that. Besides, I've noticed Pansy Parkinson giving you even more suggestive looks than that."

It was indisputably true, and Draco grinned in silent agreement. While none of the boys were particularly interested in the girls, it was always flattering to know that someone liked you.

They sat down at the Slytherin table next to Vincent and Greg, who were guffawing at some crude joke that a second year told them. They acknowledged their dorm-mates and then continued listening to the older boy. Harry grabbed some bread and began to make a turkey sandwich while they spoke.

"So, we're going to confront them when they get up and leave, right?" Harry asked for confirmation, eyeing the Gryffindor table where his brother and the Weasleys sat together.

"Yeah, that's the plan," said Blaise.

Harry sat with the boys, enjoying the feeling of fitting in immensely, and it was on Blaise's lookout when the golden trio stood up to leave.

"Now, guys," Blaise said quickly, interrupting a story that Theo was telling about his sister. Theo looked disappointed but then he scrambled up along with the rest of them.

Just as Eric, Hermione, and Draco stepped out of the Great Hall into a corridor, the four Slytherin boys appeared behind them.

"If it isn't Potty, the Weasel, and the Mudblood, yet again," Draco drawled as soon as they were in earshot. Immediately the three swiveled around to face their tormentors.

Eric's hazel eyes were fiery. "Watch your mouth, Malfoy," he snapped. His eyes flashed to Harry, registering a dead sort of surprise at seeing him, and then he quickly locked eyes back on Malfoy, frowning tightly.

"Now, now, Potter," sneered Draco, "I don't believe you're in the position to be giving out orders."

If possible, Eric's lips tightened even more. "What're you getting at, Malfoy?"

"The dragon, Potter," said Blaise quietly, chuckling quietly.

"The dragon is none of your business," said Hermione shortly, at the same time that Ron Weasley blurted, "What dragon? I don't know anything about a dragon."

Harry laughed along with the rest of them.

"Might need to work on that communication a bit more, Weasel," Theo sniggered.

Ron fumed, his ears turning bright red. Hermione had an expression of mingled exasperation and anxiety. Her eyes narrowed as she caught Harry's eye. Harry shrugged noncommittally and then gave her a mockingly winning smile. She didn't seem too happy about that, and pursed her lips, looking away.

"What d'you want, then," said Eric shortly.

"Why're you just giving in like that?" cried Ron to his best friend, his cheeks blazing red.

"Come on, Ron. You're a strategist. They're threatening to tell on Hagrid unless we do what they want," explained Eric in a defeated voice that was laced with anger.

"Glad to see you've caught on," said Harry, speaking up for the first time.

"Oh shut the hell up, Harry," said Eric easily as soon as Harry opened his mouth. "What is it, then?" he asked, looking to Draco.

"A duel – tomorrow night at midnight, in the Forbidden Forest. If you don't show, you'd better say goodbye to your beloved Hagrid," Draco challenged, looking highly pleased with himself.

"That's completely unreasonable!" Hermione cried. "Not only are we not allowed to go there, but it's for good reason! We could be killed – or worse, expelled!"

Everyone standing there looked to her incredulously. "Somebody needs to get her priorities in order," said Blaise under his breath, and even Ron and Eric seemed to agree.

"Does that mean you won't show, then?" asked Theo, grinning. "Because we can surely just go inform the authorities right now."

"We didn't say that," growled Ron. "We'll be there."

Eric's jaw was set and his eyes hard. "Yeah. But if we win the duel – or you don't show up – you have to promise not to tell anyone about Hagrid."

"We make no promises," sniffed Harry. "Again, you're not in a position to define the terms."

Eric stared at him, eyes ablaze. Harry didn't flinch or look away.

"Fine," said Eric tightly. He turned back to Hermione, who had a wildly calculating expression on her face. She nodded almost imperceptibly to Eric and then faced the Slytherin bunch.

"How are we going to know where exactly to meet you, then?" she asked.

"Here," offered Harry, sliding the map he made out of his pocket and handing it to her. He quickly explained how it worked – and despite her distemper, she was obviously trying to hide her admiration for the magic he must have done.

"See you there, then," she stated once he finished explaining, then turned on her heel and walked away, dragging Ron with her. Eric lingered for another moment and then followed his friends.

The four boys grinned and made their way back to their common room. "I'd say that went rather well, then," said Blaise with satisfaction.

"I don't know. Hermione – er – Granger looked like she was up to something," said Harry, stumbling over her name. He tried to hide his blush… he wasn't supposed to be on a first name basis with any Gryffindor bar his brother, and especially not with a Mudblood.

Draco eyed him but didn't comment. Theo, however, spoke up. "See?" he gestured to Blaise and Draco. "There's no excuse for that – calling a Mudblood by her first name, as if they're friends," Theo spat.

Harry noticed they didn't tell Theo to shut up this time, but they still didn't comment. Harry's stomach sunk uneasily and his back stiffened. "Whatever," he said unconcernedly, trying to play his mistake off as unimportant to him.

They reached the Slytherin dungeons and Harry was just about to be the last one to enter the common room, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Instantly on edge, he spun around only to see no one there. "Deprehensio animos!" he cried, unsure of the wand motion, but hoping that it would work anyway. To his relief, it did; an intangible awareness suddenly rushed through him that there was one person in the immediate vicinity.

"Sonia I hope to hell that's you," he muttered, looking around wildly.

"Yeah it's me, Harry," her voice sounded from his left. She removed the cloak, and Harry would have been relieved were it not for the look on her face.

"Come quickly, you've got to help me," she said desperately. Her jaw was strained and her expression urgent.

"What is it?" asked Harry.

"I saw…" her voice teetered on hysteria. "I think I saw the Dark Lord."

:)

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