-The Graveyard, Chapter Twelve-

Adapted from Chapter 27 of the Order of the Phoenix

HARRY POV

Easter was very near as Firenze started teaching Divination. He was much better than Trelawney, in fact, I actually learned something. His classroom was now my favorite, it felt as though you were actually in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, not inside Hogwarts.

But the pressure of exams was closing in. Madam Pompfrey was giving out Calming Draughts by the bucketful as students slowly cracked under the pressure. I was just about ready to crack myself; I was still dying to get to Cecily. It's been almost a year since I promised to save her, and I've done nothing.

Without the D.A. lessons, I'm sure I would have lost it already. More now than ever, I've had the feeling that the only reason I'm staying at Hogwarts instead of going after Cecily was the hours spent in the Room of Requirement, working hard, but enjoying myself at the same time, thrilled that the other members got better and better.

We had finally started work on Patronuses, which everyone had been very keen to practice, although I kept telling them it's much harder to produce it when confronted with something like a dementor instead of in the brightly lit classroom.

Everyone was doing extremely well until Dobby came with the warning. Everyone ran, spilling out every direction down the hallway. I dropped off Dobby and went to run for it.

Malfoy never looked happier as he called Umbridge over after tripping me. His whole face was glowing with excitement, the git. Umbridge grabbed me in a vice-like grip and dragged me all the way to Dumbledore's office.

The mood in his office was tense and serious. Two Aurors were there with Fudge. Professor McGonagall looked extremely tense, and stood rigidly beside a serene looking Dumbledore. I jerked out of Umbridge's grasp as the door closed.

"Well," said Cornelius Fudge, glaring at me with a kind of vicious satisfaction on his face, "well, well, well…" I replied with the dirtiest look I could muster, my heart drumming madly, but my mind was oddly cool and clear.

"He was heading for Gryffindor Tower," said Umbridge, her voice radiating pleasure. "The Malfoy boy cornered him."

"Did he, did he?" said Fudge appreciatively. "I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter…I expect you know why you are here?"

I was fully intent on answering with a defiant "yes", but upon seeing Dumbledore's signal, I changed direction mid-word.

"Yeh-no."

Watching Fudge's blood pressure rise at telling lies as he questioned me further was enjoyable, but since they were in fact, lies, how would I get away with them? Umbridge went to get their 'informant' and after several tense minutes of waiting, she returned with Cho's friend, Marietta.

I felt extreme satisfaction when I saw her face, especially when I heard that there was no counter-jinx to be found. Marietta was too terrified of her own face to answer any questions, so Fudge plowed right ahead with how he found out about the D.A.

The rest of the meeting fell apart drastically as Dumbledore took the blame for what I had done, and he escaped. As McGonagall escorted Marietta and I to our houses, my scar seared with pain, and I felt overwhelmingly dizzy; despair was filling me up. Slightly woozy, I collapsed into a chair in front of the fire in the common-room.

Cautiously, Ron stuck his head around a curtain, checking to see who was there. He came hurrying over when he saw it was just me. "Blimey, what happened Harry? Harry?!" He called as the wooziness took over…I was transported elsewhere…

CECILY POV

My whole back was searing with more pain than I had ever felt. I could feel the blood dripping off of my back. Avery had beaten me hard, harder than ever. He was angry that his information had been wrong, and that Rookwood had been right. He didn't take Voldemort's torture lightly…

I rolled painfully and slowly through my own sticky blood over to the magazine Voldemort had left me. I hid it well, buried under the torn off robes that no longer fit me.

I had been forced to tear off the sleeves and bottom, so I was now in a shapeless black sack and it was sticky with my own blood, which was pumping out of my back, despite my makeshift bandages.

With a bloody, shaking hand, I tugged the magazine toward me, and got blood all over the cover. I painfully wiped it off of Harry's face and stared at it, tears making clear streaks on my throbbing face, washing away blood.

A tear fell off my face and landed on Harry's forehead, and slowly rolled across the page and hit the bottom of the sarcophagus silently. My vision swam and began to tunnel, so I hid the magazine once more and collapsed, woozy, the pain in my back increasing past endurance…

I barely registered the lid opening. "Fools! I need her to live…" I heard Voldemort hiss threateningly, and the screams of a tortured Avery rang in my ears as the bright light above me began to be swallowed up by the darkness.

I felt his usual trick wake me up a bit, dousing me with water. I heard muttered curses and I felt myself being moved, then propped up. Suddenly, something was being forced down my throat; it was burning, but was replenishing me…

My head hit the table with a clunk, and pain seared through my skull. Then I was upright and another potion was racing down my throat…

"Narcissa! Get bandages and something tighter for her to wear…we need the bandages to hold!" someone shouted…

Then blissful darkness.

HARRY POV

Something hard hit my face and I jolted upright. I was still in the common room, and Ron and Hermione were watching me anxiously. My insides were swimming with anger and guilt.

I was also very afraid for Cecily. I had felt what she was feeling, and she was so very close to dying.

Anger filled me up when I remembered the last name she had heard, Narcissa. Malfoy's mother. I remembered his smirking face after the interview came out…

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a very small voice. I buried my head in my hands and after a moment, told them everything.