OKAY so I know I've not updated in…well, years…I was able to find copies of these stories again and decided to post the rest if for no other reason than just so the full thing is up. I haven't gone thru it again for any spelling or grammar or anything like that, it's exactly the way I posted it on the forums on way back when, so here it is, and my apologies again for not having it all up originally.
Cole leaned back slightly, meeting Harry's gaze.
"No one knew you were in trouble, correct?" he asked, one eyebrow arched quizzically.
"Well…no…" Harry stammered. "But I thought…"
"There's a reason for having both a defender and a guardian Harry," Cole interrupted briskly. The defender knows when the Psion is in pain and alerts the guardian, who then uses his power to find the Psion. As Draco was unable to tell Neville of your predicament, he wasn't aware of the need to find you." As he finished speaking, he again turned his attention to Lucius, lifting his hand and pressing his fingers into the soft skin below his ear.
"Oh…" Harry replied, glancing curiously at his hand, but quickly continuing. "Then what else can be done when something like this happens? I mean…Draco didn't exactly have time to leave and go find Neville to bring him back…so…"
"Draco has the power to contact Neville from anywhere…" Cole cut him off again, not taking his attention from Lucius, "however, he has only just begun to train, and I thought it best to start with the defensive magic, and by what you've told us only moments ago, I see I was right."
Harry thought he could argue that point, seeing as how if Neville could have brought others then there would not have been a need for Draco to use any defensive magic, but stayed silent. He didn't want to get Cole angry with him again; the conversation seemed stiff enough already.
"What exactly are you doing?" Draco spoke up suddenly, his eyes fixed on Cole's hand, which was near his father's throat.
Cole looked up absently, and Harry was sure he appeared annoyed, but his expression changed almost instantly, and a warm smile was now spread across his face.
"Something I will teach you, soon," Cole replied. "You are learning much faster than I had anticipated, and I'm sure we will make good progress."
"But what is it you're doing?" Draco persisted, obviously refusing to be deterred.
Cole's brow furrowed momentarily, and he opened his mouth to answer, when the door to the office opened once more.
"Albus," Remus began as he entered. "The Changs have…" he trailed off, noticing Lucius' unconscious form. "How did he get here?" he asked, looking both amazed and angry.
Dumbledore chuckled softly at Lupin's expression and Harry found himself almost relieved to see the twinkle in his eyes. It was so rare these days to see it anymore.
"I will answer that question, Remus," the headmaster said gently. "But I believe I heard you say the Changs have arrived?"
"Hmm?…Oh…yes, they're both here now…waiting to speak to you," Remus replied absently, looking confused and shocked.
"Very well, I will need to see them immediately. They should not be made to wait…"
"Professor?" Harry began, stepping forward. "Will you remember to…?"
"I will ask them, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "If they agree to see you, then I will send someone for you. Right now, I think it's best for both you and Draco to wait here, please. Make yourself some tea if you like, but don't go anywhere." He paused, turning to Cole, who was still leaning close to Lucius. "Cole, if you wouldn't mind, I don't want Mr. Malfoy left here. If he were to awaken while we were gone…"
"I completely agree," Cole said, standing up. "Where shall I take him?"
"I will show you," Dumbledore replied, gesturing for Cole to follow, before turning to Lupin. "Remus, please go tell Mr. and Mrs. Chang I will be there momentarily."
Remus didn't reply, he merely gave a faint nod, before turning and heading for the door.
"I trust the two of you will stay here, as I've asked?" Dumbledore spoke again, looking from Harry to Draco.
"Yes sir," Harry said, while Draco mumbled something that sounded similar.
"Good," Dumbledore replied. He turned again to Cole who had lifted Lucius into the air, and the two of them left the office together.
The two students stood next to one another in the hushed office, looking at the now closed door. Harry sighed inaudibly, and threw a glance at Draco, before heading towards the bookcase Sirius had shown him very early that morning.
"C'mon," he said, motioning for Draco to follow him. "We can wait back here."
"Back where?" Draco replied, eyeing the shelves quizzically. He watched as Harry slid the wall aside, and silently followed him through into the tiny kitchen beyond. "How nice," he muttered sardonically. "He gets his own kitchen…"
"He's the headmaster," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.
"Well why don't we get our own kitchens near the dorms?" Draco asked, lowering himself into a chair at the small table. "I think we could all make use of them…"
"Oh just stop," Harry cut him off briskly. "Do you want tea or no? I'm going to make some anyway."
Draco didn't reply, he merely sat and stared, a blank expression on his face, as Harry moved about near the stove, looking through the cupboards. When the water was in a pot, slowly heating, Harry crossed the room to the table and sat across from Draco.
"What do you think Cole was doing to my father?" Draco spoke suddenly, looking intently at Harry.
"I don't know," Harry admitted shaking his head slowly. "I'm sure he was just doing something to help…" he trailed off, not entirely sure he even believed his own excuse.
"Help with what, though?" Draco asked, persistently. "I mean…it's not as if he were injured or anything, just unconscious. Any student here knows how to wake someone up from that curse…"
"I know," Harry replied, his brow furrowed in thought. "I suppose we'll have to ask him next time we see him…it couldn't have been too bad though. I mean, Dumbledore didn't try to stop him, right?"
"Right…" Draco mumbled, still obviously unconvinced. He shook his head in frustration and sat back in his chair. "Why did this have to happen?" he asked, staring fixedly at his hands.
"You mean with your father?" Harry asked. "Voldemort is always sending his…"
"No," Draco cut him off, looking up abruptly. "I mean all of this…how did I end up as the defender in the first place? How did you become a Psion? None of it makes any sense really, no matter how much they explain it to us it…"
"I don't know," Harry interrupted softly. "Cole said no one knows how a Psion is chosen…it just happens. I guess it's the same for the defender and the guardian."
"Fine, it just happens," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "Who started it then? Who was the first Psion, and how did they make it so their powers were passed on?"
"I don't know," Harry said again. "Have you asked any of these questions to Cole? He seems to like you enough, I'm sure he'll tell you…"
"In front of you he seems to like me," Draco replied, "but he has no patience at all."
"While you're training you mean?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco answered. "He explains things once and expects me to know exactly what he means, and when I don't get it right away, he starts screaming. I find it hard to believe he's done this for so long, he's not very good at it…"
"I had no idea," Harry murmured. "I've only worked with the crystals once really, and I was with Allison, not Cole." He paused, looking up as the kettle began to whistle. Standing up he went to the stove and extinguished the burner. After pouring them both a cup, he turned and headed back to the table, setting both mugs down gingerly, before taking his seat again.
"Thanks," Draco muttered, looking down at the steaming mug in front of him, appearing very disinterested. Harry just nodded, and continued the discussion.
"So I'm guessing when I finally start training with Cole then, it won't exactly be fun…"
"Are you kidding?" Draco replied, raising an eyebrow. "He talks about you all the time, mostly to show me how badly I'm doing…"
"What?" Harry asked, honestly surprised. "But he's never…"
"He goes on and on about how quickly you went through your introduction with the crystals…how easily you'll be able to learn…how the connection is stronger than he's seen with past Psions…always, mind you, after I've disappointed him somehow. I've barely begun training as it is, but he expects I should know everything already…"
"I'm sorry," Harry said, not knowing what else to say.
"Whatever," Draco muttered. "I just want to get it over with now. The sooner I learn all of this the sooner I don't have to spend time with him."
"Maybe after this morning he won't do that so much anymore," Harry suggested, lightly. "I mean, he couldn't ever have gotten as mad at you for a mistake as he did with me earlier."
"I'm telling you Potter," Draco said flatly, "the man is not a teacher. Even Snape doesn't lose his patience as quickly as Cole does."
"Like you'd know anything about Snape losing his patience," Harry joked. "For every year I've been here I've seen him take points from Slytherin once."
"Well you haven't spent as much time around him as I have," Draco retorted. "He gets plenty angry at his own house when no one's around to see it." He paused for a moment, a sly grin touching his lips. "Though I can honestly say I'm glad we don't have McGonagall, that woman will take points from her own house just to prove she'll do it…"
"Believe me," Harry replied with a grin, "this I know…" he laughed slightly as several memories from his earlier years at Hogwarts ran through his mind. All of which involved him losing points for Gryffindor, but he didn't think of them and cringe. In fact, he would gladly go back in time to any of those moments, rather than be dealing with everything happening now.
"Well this is something I never would have believed," Draco spoke up, pulling Harry from his thoughts.
"What is?" he asked.
"The two of us, sitting in the same room together, speaking…joking, no less…it's weird…"
"Yeah," Harry murmured, thoughtfully, "weird…" An awkward silence fell over the two boys and Harry began stirring his tea, letting his mind wander. He hoped everything was going well, or as well as could be expected, with the Changs. Dumbledore had promised to ask if Harry could speak with them, but that didn't necessarily mean they'd agree to it. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was going to say to them, but felt he had to say something, if only to show them how truly sorry he was.
As if on cue, the entrance to the kitchen slid open softly, and both boys looked up. Remus stepped into the room, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Harry," he began before anyone could speak, "Mr. and Mrs. Chang have agreed to see you, if you still wanted to talk to them."
Harry stood up quickly, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
"Yes," he answered immediately. "Yes of course I do."
Remus nodded.
"I'll take you to them," he replied before turning his attention to the other student. "Draco, I'm afraid you'll have to remain here, headmaster's orders."
Draco merely shrugged, barely giving Remus a second glance. Harry looked down at him, wanting to say something, but finding no words. He was too nervous suddenly about having to speak with Cho's parents, and couldn't think about anything else. Stepping away from the table, he followed Remus back through into the office, and down the stairs to the hallways. Together they began walking through the silent hallways.
Neither of them spoke for the duration of the walk, and Harry realized immediately by the path Remus was directing them down that they were going to the hospital wing. When they passed through the large entranceway, the medicinal scent instantly stung Harry's nose as it always did. Remus headed off to the left as the doors closed behind them and Harry followed. They stopped outside Madam Pomfrey's office, the door was shut and the blinds had been drawn. Remus raised his hand and rapped gently against the door with his knuckles.
Harry heard muffled voices from inside that stopped abruptly upon hearing Remus' knock. A chair scraped lightly against the sleek floor and seconds later, the door swung quietly open. Dumbledore stepped out of the office, letting the door close gently behind him, before turning to the two people waiting.
"Thank you for escorting him, Remus," Dumbledore said with a nod, which Lupin returned, curtly. The headmaster placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him just a few feet away, before bringing them both to a stop.
"As you know," he began, "Mr. and Mrs. Chang have agreed to speak with you. Please keep in mind that the loss they have suffered is one no parent should ever have to bear. They are emotionally exhausted. Whatever their decision, if you decide to bring up the issue of Cho's funeral, please do not argue. I agree it would be unfair for them to forbid you to attend, but it is, ultimately, their choice."
"I know," Harry nodded. "I just want them to understand…this isn't easy on me either…"
"You don't need to convince me Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Please just be considerate of their feelings as well."
"I will," Harry said, anxious to go into the office.
"Do you want anyone to accompany you?" Dumbledore asked.
"No," Harry answered firmly. "I would much rather speak to them in private, if that's alright."
The headmaster nodded.
"Perfectly alright. Professor Lupin and I will be just out here if you need either of us."
"Thank you," Harry replied.
They moved together back towards the office door. Dumbledore moved aside, and smiled reassuringly, as Harry threw him one last glance, before cautiously pushing the door open, and entering the room.
Harry made sure to close the door completely behind him, before turning and stepping further into the office. The Chang's were sitting next to one another on one side of Madam Pomfrey's desk, their backs to Harry. Neither of them turned to see who had entered the room, as if it didn't matter one way or another, but Harry was not deterred. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room to the only empty chair on the opposite side of the desk, and lowered himself into it.
Cho's parents glanced up at, blank expressions on their faces. Harry could see immediately that Mrs. Chang had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her cheeks were flushed. Mr. Chang had not been crying, but Harry felt it wouldn't be a surprise if he were to suddenly do so. His eyes were glassy, and he looked ready to collapse from the mental strain this was putting on him.
Seeing that neither of them was going to make the first move, Harry decided to speak first.
"I wanted to speak to both of you today, so that I could tell you personally, so that you would know, how truly sorry I am. I would do anything to bring Cho back if it were possible…I loved her very much…" he trailed off, feeling his own emotions stirring powerfully within him.
"She spoke of you quite fondly," Mrs. Chang spoke, barely above a whisper. "It's a shame this is the first time we're meeting you…"
"I wish more than anything in the world the circumstances were different," Harry said sadly.
"How did it happen?" Mr. Chang spoke up then, his voice hard.
"Wh-what do you mean?" Harry asked, looking to Cho's father.
"How did my daughter die?" he asked.
"Didn't Dumbledore…I mean…you spoke to him, right? He must've told you…" Harry stammered, unable to believe Dumbledore would leave this for him to explain.
"He told us she was killed, murdered, by You-Know-Who," Mr. Chang spoke darkly, "but I want to hear from you, who was right there while it happened, what exactly came to pass."
"I…um…I…" Harry sighed inaudibly, shaking his head. "Are you sure? Do you have any questions, maybe? I could just answer…"
"Just tell us what happened!" Mr. Chang spoke abruptly, cutting Harry off. "You owe us that at least…"
Harry's eyes flew to his hands at Mr. Chang's last statement. It was painfully obvious just how much they blamed him for Cho's death, and the guilty feeling was rising within, threatening to consume him. He forced it down, knowing it wouldn't help the situation in the least.
Speaking slowly, Harry retold the events of the night that Cho had died, telling them only what he thought relevant. When he came to Voldemort speaking the fateful curse at last, he immediately went silent, feeling tears spring to his eyes. It was still too painful to relive this particular memory, and if it had been anyone besides Cho's parents who had asked him to, he would have refused. Blinking furiously, determined not to break down, he waited, anxiously, for a response.
"You-Know-Who killed my daughter," Mr. Chang began, his tone dark and strained, "my only daughter, because he thought she was some sort of protector for you? Why? What would cause him to think that?"
Harry could feel the older man's eyes boring into him, and had to force himself to look up, to meet that gaze.
"I wish I knew why," he replied in a hollow voice. "I told him over and over again he was wrong. He wouldn't listen…he didn't believe me…" he trailed off.
"How did she get there in the first place?" Mr. Chang persisted.
"Someone took her…" Harry said weakly, "from the girls dorm in the Gryffindor tower…but I don't know who…"
A brief silence fell over the room, and Harry felt as if the room were pressing in on him. He didn't think the Changs would interrogate him like this, but now that he was here, it seemed only natural. Why wouldn't they want to know exactly what had happened to their only daughter?
"How is it," Mr. Chang spoke again, his voice eerily calm, "that you managed to get away…to live through this? You're the one You-Know-Who is after, correct? Why are you still alive?"
"Mr. Chang," Harry began, "please, I…"
"Answer the question," he stated firmly.
Harry looked away from the cold stare, considering. How much could he truly tell them? Was it safe to even let them know anything at all? Shaking his head, he decided to try and explain as best he could.
"Voldemort thought…" he paused as he saw both of Cho's parents shudder visibly. "Sorry," he muttered, regretting his mistake. "You-Know-Who thought Cho was my defender. There is a…um…there's a spell…" he lied, "it was cast on me when I was very young. In order for me to die, you have to kill my defender first. He thought Cho was this person…and he was wrong."
"So my daughter died in someone else's place?" Mr. Chang asked, his expression darkening.
Harry looked away, unable to reply, not needing to. It was obvious Mr. Chang knew the answer already.
"I'm so sorry…" was all Harry could manage to say.
"I bet you are…" Mr. Chang replied, abruptly, glaring angrily at Harry.
"Stop badgering him," Mrs. Chang spoke up then, her voice so light it was barely audible. She was looking weakly at her husband.
"He's the reason Cho is dead!" Mr. Chang spat out, seeming shocked at his wife's request. Harry flinched as he spoke. He knew Mr. Chang had felt this way, it was as plain as day, but it still hurt to hear it out loud. He lowered his gaze once more, wondering if he should just try to leave.
"Please Russell, if there's anyone we should be mad at it's Albus…Cho was supposed to be safe here. We knew after what happened to us she couldn't stay home. Someone was in our house, in our daughter's room, and we were completely unaware! We couldn't have hoped to protect her."
Harry assumed she must have been talking about the time Sirius and Marzia had visited the Chang's house when they first went looking for Cho, but he remained silent.
"None of that would have mattered though, if it hadn't been for him," Mr. Chang replied harshly, jerking a thumb at Harry.
"People were after her before she came here…" Mrs. Chang said softly, tears running slowly down her face. The strain was too much for her, and Harry wished there were something, anything, that he could do to ease her pain. However, he was afraid to even speak at the moment, thinking it would only make things worse. He wanted to leave, but if he stood up, the attention would be drawn back to him, which would probably draw the same reaction as if he tried to cut in on the conversation. Glancing up at the door, wishing someone would interrupt the argument now taking place, Harry caught a flicker of movement coming from the bottom of the entrance into the office.
Slowly sitting up in his chair, Harry's jaw dropped in horror as he watched black smoke filtering noiselessly under the crack in the door.
Harry gripped the arms of his chair tightly, fighting off the dread building up within him. He looked to the Changs who were still arguing and knew there wasn't much time, they had to get out of there now. The smoke was moving in tendrils, curling underneath the door silently. When Harry saw it was making its way towards Cho's parents, it jarred him into motion. He shot up out of his seat so abruptly it fell over, causing Mr. and Mrs. Chang to look up, surprised and confused. Mr. Chang looked ready to scream, appalled that Harry had dared to interrupt, but before he could say anything Harry started speaking urgently.
"We need to get out of here, now!" he said, starting for the door, hoping they'd be able to get past the smoke that was seemingly blocking the way.
Neither of the Changs moved. They sat and stared at him, as if not understanding what he was saying.
"C'mon!" Harry said louder, his heart beating fast in his chest. He motioned furiously for them to get up. "I'm serious, look!" he turned and pointed at the smoke only to step back in shock. It was right next to him, drawn up to match his height. All the color drained from Mrs. Chang's face and Mr. Chang's eyes could not have been any wider. They both seemed frozen to their seats with fear.
Harry stepped backwards slowly, looking around wildly for any other escape, but the door was the only entrance or exit in sight. He didn't know how to fight the smoke, if it could even be done, and by the looks on the Changs' faces, they didn't know either. Nevertheless, he pulled out his wand, unwilling to give up without a fight.
The smoke however, seemed almost disinterested in Harry; instead, it slunk back down near the floor, making its way once again towards the Changs. Mrs. Chang opened her mouth in a silent scream, clinging to the chair, pushing back against it as if it would protect her. Mr. Chang, however finally seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation and stood, taking his wife by the rest he pulled her forcefully up next to him, before stepping in front of her and drawing out his wand.
"Haustum," he said immediately, looking intently at the billowing clouds of smoke wafting towards him. Harry noticed the air in front of the wand begin to spin, making a small funnel. The smoke was drawn forward towards it, and for a moment it seemed as though the funnel would suck in the black mist. However, as the smoke came in contact with the small whirlwind, it evaporated, leaving no trace.
Mr. Chang's expression grew even more fearful and he looked around quickly, as Harry had done before, coming to the same conclusion. There was only one way out, and it was completely blocked. The smoke was splitting off into thin strands, encircling the Changs threateningly. Harry stood, watching in horror, as it drew closer and closer around them. The panic in their faces was all too evident and Harry couldn't stand by and do nothing any longer.
Raising his wand in a hand growing slippery from sweat, he called out the first spell that came to his mind.
"Fumus Concipio!" he cried, anxiously. A low hum began to emit from his wand, slowly gaining in pitch, as the air in the room fought to pull the smoke towards him. He watched, nervously as it seemed to work at first, the smoke began drifting away from the Changs, slowly, but moving nonetheless.
When suddenly, something unexpected happened. The black mist seemed to split in half; the closer portion allowed itself to be pulled towards him, forcing him to step back as it neared him. It seemed almost willing to let the spell bring it closer, and Harry didn't think the magic he'd used was having any effect on the smoke.
It raised itself up as it had done earlier and Harry kept moving backwards, having nowhere else to go, knowing he couldn't let it touch him, but running out of room.
He could barely see the Changs anymore through the wall of smoke in front of him, but their voices sounded muffled, strangled even, and he knew whatever was happening had to be stopped.
"Professor Dumbledore!" he yelled in a last desperate attempt as the mist began to close in around him. "Remus! Madam Pomfrey! Can anyone hear me? Please help!"
All he could do now was hope someone had heard, as just when he finished yelling his back ran up against the wall. He glanced around, trying not to panic, only to see he was in the corner of the office, with nothing to use as a weapon. The black haze pushed in on him, and he pressed himself as far into the corner as possible to keep away from it. He saw it connect with the wall around him, completely blocking out the light, and shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself for what was coming…when it stopped.
Harry waited, barely breathing for several seconds, before he realized what had happened. He opened his eyes cautiously still unable to see anything past the smoke, pressed tightly into the corner, trying to remain motionless. He couldn't understand what was going on, until the sounds of the Changs anguished cries reached his ears through the haze. They were in pain, and apparently no one had heard his call for help as none had arrived. The smoke hadn't attacked him as the Changs had been its target from the beginning, and now he was trapped, forced to listen to their suffering, but unable to help them in any way.
As the seconds passed, Harry began to feel increasingly frantic for a way out. The air around him grew stale, there was no help coming that he knew of, and the Changs were in dire need of it. He glanced down, unable to see in the darkness around him, and slowly began to extend the fingers on his left hand. He had no way of raising his arm without touching the smoke entirely, and so decided to test it first. He couldn't see how close he was and pushed his hand away from his side slightly, tensely waiting to feel the misty substance.
For a brief moment, Harry thought he would be able to pass through it easily, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then his fingers felt a sharp twinge of pain, much like an electric shock. He felt the jolt run through his body, slamming his back into the corner even further. He inhaled sharply as a bolt of pain ran up his spine, but held back any cry threatening to escape.
Now that he knew touching the smoke was not an option, he tried to think of any other way past it. The Changs' voices could no longer be heard and he prayed they were still alright. Shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, he could feel the sweat dripping down his face and the pain in his back was quite prominent. Even though he knew there was no way out that he could see, he thought if he had some light there may be a chance of finding one.
Tightening the grip on the wand in his right hand, he whispered the spell.
"Lumos."
Instantly a bright beam of light shown from the tip, but as his hand was positioned at the floor, it was still hard to see. Glancing down, he could see the end of the wand quite clearly, looking just next to it; however, he noticed something a bit more interesting. The smoke around the tip of the wand had pulled away. He still couldn't see through it, but it was obviously keeping away from the wand. At first, Harry thought it was the light that was causing it, but the light had been on in the office when the smoke had arrived, and it hadn't seemed to draw away from it then.
Deciding to think about it later, he began to raise his right hand, the smoke billowing out, away from the wand, as he did so. He pulled the wand up in front of his face, taking a deep breath, before swiping forward in one swift motion, through the smoke. The result was exactly what Harry had hoped it would be. The smoke split down the center, retreating from the wand, and Harry didn't waste any time. He lunged forward, out of the corner, feeling the fresh air filling his lungs.
Glancing once over his shoulder, he saw the smoke begin to reform into one billowing cloud, but didn't wait for it to happen, he turned quickly and started towards the Changs, only to come to a dead stop, horrified at the sight before him.
Harry stood, frozen to the spot momentarily, and stared at the Changs, dread filling him entirely. The smoke that had been surrounding them was all but gone now. There were a few lone tendrils left, and from what he could see, the mist was forcing itself inside of them. The movement of the smoke reminded Harry of a snake, slithering stealthily through the grass, and it was entering Mr. and Mrs. Chang through their ears, noses and mouths. Their eyes were both wide in terror, but neither seemed to be able to move or speak, and he could see them trying to fight it, and losing. Their bodies were shaking from fear and exhaustion.
It was only when Mrs. Chang's gaze shifted ever so slightly, meeting Harry's, that he was jarred into action. He jumped forward, swiping at the last of the haze surrounding her. It moved aside just as before, but as Harry turned toward Mr. Chang to do the same for him, the smoke returned to his wife. He couldn't do both at once, try as he might, but it was in vain. Soon the last of the smoke had gone and both Changs lay limply in their chairs, barely breathing.
Harry lowered his head in defeat, and backed up slowly. As he began to turn for the door, hoping to find the others on the opposite side, a glimmer of movement caught his eye. The other cloud of smoke was still in the room, it had remained motionless as Harry had attempted to help the Changs, but now it was moving again, and heading straight for him.
Feeling a wave of despair wash over him, he turned quickly towards the door. His wand seemed to be able to keep the smoke away, but it didn't appear to harm it. There was too much of it to hope to keep his distance for very long, and he didn't want to put it to the test.
Grasping the handle of the door, he turned it with a swift twist and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Harry let go quickly. His hands were sweaty and perhaps he hadn't turned the knob fully. Rubbing them against his robes to dry them, he brought them back up and tried again.
Once more, nothing.
The door refused to budge and it wasn't anything to do with him, someone had cursed it, locking him in.
"Dammit," he breathed quietly, looking around frantically. The smoke seemed to be taking its time, but it moved steadily closer with each passing second.
Harry balled his hand into a fist, pounding forcefully on the door, calling to anyone on the other side that might hear him, but no one answered. No one came. He glanced to his right at the windows. The blinds had been pulled shut, and he reached out to rip them open, but as his fingers came in contact with them, he pulled his hand back immediately when a sharp pain ran through it. Looking down he saw several horizontal slits running across his fingers where they had touched the blinds.
The smoke was now moving faster, and he was running out of time. He didn't know what it had done to the Changs, or what it wanted with him, as at first it only seemed to want him out of the way, but he didn't want to find out.
Looking around, he spotted an empty chair nearby. Tossing his wand into Mr. Chang's lap, he lifted the chair with both hands, and brought it up over his head, before releasing it, full force, towards the window.
Harry watched as if in slow motion as the chair moved through the air, holding his breath, waiting. As it made contact with the window, a bright spark caused him to look away for a split second, but he glanced up again quickly as the shattering of glass echoed in his ears. He had no idea why whatever curse had been used didn't seem to hold up against the chair, but wasn't going to waste any time thinking about it for this moment.
Looking over his shoulder, Harry saw the smoke was now almost upon him. Spinning again towards the window, he was filled with relief as several familiar faces came into view. He began to call out, to warn them about the smoke, when he heard a strange rush of air nearby. Looking towards where the sound had come from, he spied the last of the mist creeping under the door, and out of sight. In the next instant, the doorknob twisted and Dumbledore walked in, followed by Remus and Cole.
"What happ…" Dumbledore began, but stopped abruptly upon seeing the Changs, unconscious in their seats. Harry looked over at them as well, before his eyes fell on his wand. He had forgotten that he'd dropped it onto Mr. Chang's lap when the smoke was coming at him, but now he rushed forward to grab it. The tip of the wand was lying against Mr. Chang's leg, and it had burned straight through his pants, singeing the soft flesh beneath it. A small tendril of black smoke was coming from the wound, but the instant Harry removed the wand, the smoke stopped, and the wound began to close.
"Remus, Cole," Dumbledore spoke firmly. "Please bring Russell and Carol out to Poppy and have her see to them. I'll want Allison to have a look as well."
Both men nodded, moving forward, but Remus stopped beside Harry.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. Harry nodded faintly, feeling confused. Had they been out there this entire time? Why hadn't they heard him? Why hadn't they seen the smoke? What did whoever sent it want with the Changs?
Harry watched, feeling almost numb as Remus and Cole lifted Cho's parents gently out of their seats and levitated them out of the cluttered office. He stood very still, wanting answers for his questions, but not quite certain anyone would have them. When a hand fell gently on his shoulder, he looked up, startled from his thoughts, to find Dumbledore looking down at him.
"Please come with me Harry," he said quietly, his tone authoritative but kind. Harry didn't question the headmaster as they left the hospital wing and headed back upstairs to his office. When they were both inside, the first thing Harry noticed was Draco was still there. In all that had happened since leaving the office, he'd forgotten about him even being there at all. But he was still waiting, as he was asked, in a chair near the fire. He looked up curiously as the other two entered, but didn't ask any questions.
Dumbledore turned to Harry as the door shut behind him and began speaking quickly.
"I do not know what just happened in that office Harry, but it is very clear to me that it was something horrible. I will need you to explain it to me shortly; just as soon as I see to it that the Changs are being taken care of. Please wait here until I return, I promise I will not be long."
Harry again didn't respond, but nodded to the headmaster's request. Dumbledore looked down at him, a glint of sadness in his eyes, before turning on the spot, his robes billowing around him as he moved, and headed back down the stairs.
Harry didn't know what to make of anything anymore, it was all too much. Turning away from the door, he shuffled slowly to the empty chair beside Draco's, before slumping into it, letting the exhaustion set in. His wand, he noticed, was still held tightly in his grip, and he almost had to force his fingers to relax as he placed it back in his pocket.
"So," Draco spoke up, causing Harry to look up abruptly. "Do I want to know what happened?"
Harry met Draco's gaze for only a moment, before glancing away again. He hadn't failed to catch the sardonic tone of his voice and wasn't in the mood to put up with him right now.
"Nothing," Harry muttered, staring fixedly at the crackling fire before him.
"Nothing?" Draco repeated, obviously not willing to accept that answer. "So then if nothing happened, how is it my back is in pain and my fingers were stinging? They're a bit numb now…"
"Did you tell anyone?" Harry interrupted, glancing up at Malfoy.
"Who could I tell?" he replied with a shrug. "I was basically ordered not to leave and no one was around. If it had gotten that bad I would've left, but it didn't last long."
Harry stared at him in disbelief. It seemed Malfoy would only be helping him if the pain he felt was unbearable. Shaking his head, not wanting to think about it, he turned his attention to his injured hand. The bleeding had all but stopped and dried blood was caked over his fingers, but they still ached fiercely.
Standing up slowly, he made his way across the office and through to the kitchen, where he cleaned the tiny wounds. His back was protesting any sudden movements and he thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to visit Madam Pomfrey, no matter how much he truly did not want to go back down to the hospital wing anytime soon.
After drying his hand, and not finding any bandages, Harry walked back out into the office, sliding the wall shut behind him. He lowered himself again into the chair beside Draco, wanting only to relax in silence and wait for the others to arrive, but Malfoy spoke as soon as Harry sat.
"Did you hear anything else about my father?" he asked almost anxiously.
"No," Harry replied flatly, shutting his eyes softly. His head was aching dully from all the questions he had, mostly pertaining to the events of the day, and he wished very much that he had a sleeping potion right now. He'd take it without any complaints.
Draco sat back in his chair with a huff.
"Dumbledore better not have been lying to me…if anyone hurts my…"
"Dumbledore wouldn't lie," Harry cut him off abruptly, his eyes remaining closed. "Lucius will be fine."
"Well what if someone gets to him when your beloved headmaster isn't around?" Draco asked angrily. "What then?"
"He's our headmaster," Harry replied pointedly, "and no one that is on our side would disobey him."
Draco snorted, showing his obvious disbelief for that statement.
"Are you so sure?" he asked snidely. "What about Black?"
"Sirius?" Harry asked, now turning and meeting Draco's gaze. "What about him?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, his tone clearly daring Malfoy to say something insulting about his godfather.
Before either Draco or Harry could utter another word, however, a new voice spoke up from the doorway.
"That'll be quite enough you two," Cole stated firmly, his eyes fixed on the students as he stepped into the office. "This isn't the time to be arguing."
"Are Mr. and Mrs. Chang alright?" Harry asked immediately, turning in his chair, and abandoning all thought of Draco's last statement. The expression on Cole's face didn't alter in the slightest as he answered.
"It's best we wait for Professor Dumbledore to arrive for that explanation. He was only just behind me, so it won't be long."
Harry simply nodded, unable to tell anything from Cole's masked face; it was completely unreadable.
"What about my father?" Draco asked, and Harry threw him a vehement glare. He knew he shouldn't be angry with Malfoy. It was only normal to worry about your father, but the way Draco was clearly showing how much of a one-track mind he had was starting to become annoying.
"Your father is being looked after, don't worry," Cole answered curtly.
"By who?" Malfoy pressed on insistently, but before any answer could be given, the door to the office opened once again. Dumbledore walked in, followed by Remus and Sirius.
"Harry," Sirius said immediately upon seeing his godson. He crossed the room in a flash and knelt down beside the chair Harry sat in. "Are you alright?" he asked, eyes searching in concern.
"I'm fine," Harry replied quickly, "but what about the Changs? Are they okay? What did the smoke do to them?"
"Smoke?" Remus asked, confused. "What smoke?"
Harry sighed quietly.
"I figured you hadn't seen it," he spoke quietly. "You didn't hear me call to you either."
"While you were in the office?" Remus asked, his eyes widening in shock. Harry nodded.
"How could that…" Remus began, turning to the headmaster, but stopped as Dumbledore held up a hand.
"I think," he spoke gravely, "that we first need to hear exactly what happened."
Harry cleared his throat, as if taking his cue, preparing himself to explain what he'd just seen, as best he could.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Harry said quietly when he'd finished telling his story. He'd explained what had happened in Madam Pomfrey's office as quickly as possible, wanting to get it all out without interruption, and for a few moments after, no one spoke, all lost in their own thoughts. Harry broke the silence finally, needing to ask a question.
"One thing?" Remus asked, pointedly. "I have a growing list."
"Well there's one thing I don't understand above the rest," Harry said quickly. "I have too many questions to remember them all, but what I'm most concerned about is the Changs. Why were they the target? Who could possibly be after them?"
"I'm afraid those are some of my questions as well," Dumbledore replied gravely. "I can think of many names, but no reasons."
"Will they be alright?" Harry asked. As the headmaster met his eyes and Harry caught a flash of grief in them, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know the answer.
"They are alive," Dumbledore answered slowly.
"But…" Harry prompted, seeing the headmaster wasn't finished.
"But they are in much the same state as Professor Snape and Percy Weasley," Dumbledore spoke gently. "They are both in comas, unable to be reached, and no magic we try seems to have any effect."
Harry nodded faintly, dropping his gaze to his hands. He was glad, at least, that the Changs were alive, but things only seemed to be getting worse. This made four people in comas, all for reasons that weren't the slightest bit clear.
"Why do you think," he spoke softly, keeping his eyes down, "you weren't able to hear me? Why didn't you see the smoke?"
"Well whoever sent it didn't want anyone outside of that office to know," Cole spoke up, matter-of-factly.
"And do you have any idea as to who might be able to do that?" Harry asked. "Because the only name that comes to my mind is Saaneeraa."
"I would have to agree," Cole nodded. "The power it would require to stop Albus, Remus, Poppy and myself from seeing the smoke, not to mention anyone else it may have passed on its way to that office, would be an enormous amount. Only an entity could do it."
"So then we're really on our own here, aren't we?" Harry asked, emotionlessly. "The ministry has disappeared, the entities can come and go as they please, and the Inquisitors obviously can't sense them…"
"The Inquisitors have only just arrived," Cole said softly. "Give them time, if the entities are present in the school often, they will be able to sense them soon enough."
"Give them time?" Harry asked, a small twinge of anger twisting inside him. "How much time? What if someone else is hurt, or killed, before that time comes?"
"It's better than nothing, Harry," Cole said in a voice straining not to sound harsh.
"What about earlier today?" Harry persisted, "Why didn't the Inquisitors sense Lucius?"
"The only reason," Cole began evenly, "that the Inquisitors would not have alerted someone to Lucius' presence, is if he had been introduced to them."
"What?" Sirius cried, his eyes going wide. "From what I was told only a person who had already been introduced could do the same for someone else."
"That's correct," Cole replied curtly.
"Well then who would do that?" Sirius went on urgently. "Could it have been one of the entities?"
Cole seemed to consider for a moment before replying.
"The way I see it, there are two possibilities. The first would be, one of the entities is disguised among us, and we unknowingly introduced them to the Inquisitors." He paused for a moment, looking at each of them in turn, before continuing. "The second, one of us is a traitor. In either scenario this person, upon being introduced to the Inquisitors, did the same for Malfoy."
"I only know one person in this school who would willingly help Lucius Malfoy," Sirius spoke vehemently, turning his glare on Draco.
"I didn't!" Draco cried immediately, jumping up from his chair. He eyed Sirius warily, as if waiting for him to try something.
"Sirius, please," Dumbledore spoke firmly. "Do not start throwing accusations without any proof. Draco is well aware of the seriousness in this situation, and I find it highly unlikely he would be the one to have helped Lucius."
"Which I didn't," Draco reiterated stubbornly.
"Well who then?" Sirius asked, turning to the headmaster in exasperation. "We've been playing guessing games for months. We need to start getting some answers and we need them now!"
"I couldn't agree more," Dumbledore replied. "And at this time, we are doing all that is within our power, as you know."
"It certainly doesn't seem to be enough, does it?" Sirius asked, lowering his voice.
Dumbledore didn't reply, but it was obvious he felt the same. The magic they were up against was beyond their own, and Harry felt a wave of despair wash over him. If things were so bad that even Dumbledore was scared, it made the situation feel hopeless.
"I want the both of you staying here again tonight," the headmaster spoke, looking from Harry to Draco. "No arguments, please, Mr. Malfoy," he added as Draco opened his mouth to protest. "Just do as I ask."
Standing up, almost mechanically, Harry said goodnight to everyone in the room, and turned to wait for Draco, who looked very unhappy.
"There's just one thing I want to ask," Draco said, looking intently at the headmaster.
"Go right ahead," Dumbledore replied with a nod.
"Where is my father…and who is he with?"
"Lucius is in the school, you needn't worry about where just now. At this time I believe Marzia is looking after him."
"Marzia!" Draco cried, stunned. Harry groaned inwardly, he knew he never should have said anything about her to him. How could he have expected him to keep quiet?
Sirius glared at Malfoy, his eyes flashing.
"And what, pray tell, is wrong with that? Marzia is perfectly capable of…"
"But what if she does something to him! If she knows I'm…"
"Draco!" Harry interrupted loudly, needing to stop him from speaking now. "I think we just need to…"
"He's my father, Potter!" Malfoy almost shouted. "I'm not staying quiet, not about this. If she knows I'm the defender, she might do something to him! I can't…"
"What are you talking about?" Cole interrupted. "Of course Marzia knows you're the defender. What difference does that…?"
"Because she might be Saaneeraa!" Draco blurted out, looking frantic now. "She might use him against me…I can't…"
"What?" Sirius cried in shock. Harry closed his eyes, groaning inwardly. So there it was, out in the open, no taking it back now.
"Where in Merlin's name would you get that ridiculous idea?" Sirius spoke through clenched teeth. He had balled his hands into fists and was now slowly moving towards Malfoy. "I think you better start explaining…"
"Sirius, please calm down," Dumbledore spoke in an authoritative tone as he stood up. "We will not handle this in that manner."
"Did you just hear him?" Sirius asked incredulously. "He's saying…"
"I heard quite clearly, thank you," Dumbledore cut him off. "And we will talk about it, so if you please…sit," he stated firmly, pointing at a nearby chair.
Harry could see the fury still building in his godfather's eyes. Malfoy's comment had stunned him, but now the anger was taking over. He looked simply murderous and Harry was worried for a moment that Sirius wasn't going to pay any mind to what Dumbledore had said. But Remus saw it too, and stepping forward, took hold of Sirius' arm. Sirius turned his glare on his friend, but Remus merely shook his head.
"Let's not do this, Sirius. Just calm down so we can find out what's going on."
Sirius shrugged the hand off of his arm almost violently, but he didn't move any closer to Malfoy. Harry hadn't seen him this angry since the end of his fourth year at Hogwarts. However, Remus refused to leave his side, so with an angry sigh, Sirius dropped into the chair nearest him, glaring hatefully at Malfoy.
Dumbledore shook his head, his expression a mixture of exasperation and sadness, before turning his gaze on Draco.
"Now Mr. Malfoy," he began, "if it isn't too much to ask, could you please explain to us why you don't trust Marzia?"
Draco glanced up at Harry, almost guiltily. He knew he'd broken his promise to keep quiet, but Harry also understood…this was his father after all, no matter what he felt for Lucius he couldn't expect Draco to remain silent.
Stepping forward, Harry cleared his throat.
"Actually…I think…" he paused, glancing over to Sirius, "I think I'm the one who should answer that question."
Sirius' brow furrowed in confusion as he looked upon his godson and Harry had to speak quickly, before he lost his nerve.
"I'm the reason Draco doesn't trust Marzia…because I'm not sure I trust her either."
The room sounding deafeningly silent to Harry. He didn't want to do it this way, all he had were his suspicions, no proof that she had done anything wrong, but it was too late now.
"We're listening, Mr. Potter," Cole spoke up. "Why don't you trust her?"
Harry nodded quickly, and began his explanation. He went through everything he had the night before, Halloween, Percy, the night Hermione took the broom just after speaking with Marzia, receiving the bottle on Christmas morning and the strange behavior from both her and Sirius, and being interrupted during dinner in the observatory with Mel.
He paused for a moment, looking around the room at the others. Dumbledore, Cole and Remus appeared to be considering all he had said, while Sirius just looked…defeated, sad. He couldn't even meet his godson's eyes, and Harry felt a wave of grief wash over him. He never intended to do this to Sirius, and wished desperately he could take it all back, but he wasn't finished yet, and had to force himself to continue.
"After what happened today…I…I think there's one more reason…to…suspect her…" he stammered, truly not wanting to talk about it anymore.
"The smoke?" Dumbledore asked, more of a statement then a question. Harry nodded, glumly.
"How does that…?" Sirius began, before realization dawned in his eyes. "Oh…her curse on the dementors at Hogsmeade…"
"It looked exactly the same…and somehow…it felt it too…" Harry tried to explain.
"Anyone from Faerun can do that spell though," Sirius spoke, looking earnestly at the headmaster. "And seeing as there are so many people around here lately that are," he paused, glancing pointedly at Cole, "we can't be certain it was Marzia."
"But," Remus spoke in an apologetic tone, "you have to admit much of the evidence does point towards her."
"Or it's a string of bad coincidences!" Sirius spoke angrily. "Nothing said here proves Marzia has ever done anything against us."
"I know," Harry spoke up loudly, seeing his godfather's temper start to flare. "Which is exactly why I never intended to tell you, not unless I was positive."
Sirius looked at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face, but didn't speak.
"The fact is, although most of what we know does seem to point to Marzia, it is inconclusive. We cannot be certain, and in this particular situation, I do not see how even confronting her would get us an answer. I'm sorry to say we will have to be keeping a much closer watch on Marzia from now on." He paused momentarily, turning to Lupin. "Remus I would appreciate if you would please take over for now in keeping watch on Mr. Malfoy."
"That's not fair," Sirius said fiercely, remaining motionless in his chair. "Are you going to take away all of her responsibilities now? Even if she is Saaneeraa, which she is not, wouldn't that make her and Lucius on the same side? What would she do to him?"
"I am not going to speculate on things that may or may not be," Dumbledore spoke sternly, his eyes fixed on Sirius. "I am simply taking no more unnecessary risks. I am not asking Marzia to leave the school but closer watch will be kept on her, whether you approve or not."
Harry watched, feeling nearly consumed with guilt, as his godfather and the headmaster silently faced off. He knew he should feel happy that he was no longer the only one suspecting Marzia, but he didn't. Instead, he wished nothing had been said, as the pain and grief it was causing his godfather was all too evident.
Suddenly Sirius stood up, and without a word, he stalked across the room towards the door. They all listened, as his footsteps retreated, echoing loudly down the stairs. Remus glanced nervously at the headmaster but Dumbledore just shook his head.
"Let him go, he will need time to think, to simmer down. Please just do as I asked, relieve Marzia of her watch. I will come to see you shortly."
Remus nodded uncertainly, but didn't argue. He turned towards the door and started downstairs.
"As for you two," Dumbledore said, looking to Harry and Draco. "It has been a very long day for both of you, and it's time for you to rest. There is much going on right now, and I know the answers we need seem out of reach, but we will figure this out. Now, off to bed with you both, I will see you in the morning." He smiled faintly as he finished, but Harry could see the distress beneath it. Feeling sick with worry and guilt, he murmured goodnight to both Dumbledore and Cole, before following Draco through the door at the back of the office, and into the maze of sleeping quarters.
Harry didn't feel much like talking right now, and when they found a room with two beds in it, he immediately headed for the closer one.
"I wasn't going to say anything," Draco spoke up, quietly, standing near the door. "I knew you didn't want Sirius to know, and I really was going to keep it that way…but…my father…I had to say something…"
"It's alright," Harry said, while moving the pillows aside and finding the nightclothes. "I understand why you did it…if the roles were reversed, I would have done the same."
He sat on the edge of the bed; beginning to take off his shoes, ready to just get some rest. Malfoy stood where he was a moment longer, watching Harry before sighing resignedly and heading for the opposite side of the room, to the other bed. The two of them changed quickly and quietly, neither having anything left to say. Harry didn't know about Draco, but he had so many unanswered questions his head felt ready to burst. Slipping in between the sheets, he tried to push the thoughts from his head. He didn't want to think about Saaneeraa, Marzia, Cole, or even Sirius right now.
That was his biggest worry, that Sirius was obviously angry with him. He never wanted everything to come out as it had, and hoped his godfather would forgive him. If it turned out Marzia had been on their side from the beginning, he felt Sirius would never speak to him again. Marzia would know, without a doubt, that she was under suspicion now. There would be no way they'd let her roam about as freely as she'd been able to for the past few months.
Shutting his eyes tightly, Harry forced the images away. There was no point in worrying about it now, what was done, was done. All he could do was wait.
Harry didn't know how long he lay awake, but after what felt like hours, he finally drifted off into a very restless sleep.
When next he opened his eyes, Harry felt as if he'd just run a mile. He was tired and groggy, and wanted only to stay right where he was and continue sleeping, but thought better of it. He pushed himself up on his elbows, squinting towards the bedside table, when he heard the door open. He quickly grabbed for his glasses, and put them on, to see that Sirius had entered the room.
"Can we talk?" he asked his godson seriously.
Harry nodded eagerly, feeling both anxious and hopeful. He glanced briefly across the room, noticing Malfoy had already awoken, as his bed was empty, before turning back to his godfather.
"Sirius, I'm so sorry," he said guiltily, their eyes meeting. "I didn't want to…"
"Harry, wait," Sirius interrupted gently. "I didn't come here to blame you for anything. In fact I came to apologize."
"For what?" Harry asked, surprised and confused. "You didn't do…" he trailed off as Sirius held up a hand, indicating for him to stop.
"Please, just give me a moment," he spoke quietly, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did last night, you didn't need that on top of everything else you're dealing with."
"No, Sirius, no don't say that. I never should have said anything to Malfoy. There's no proof that any of what I said…"
"That doesn't matter, Harry," Sirius cut him off. "I knew you felt guilty last night, and I didn't say anything…I let you feel that way, and then I left."
"You had every right to be upset," Harry spoke softly, looking down at his hands.
"But not at you," Sirius stated. "And after thinking about it, and believe me, I haven't done much else since last night, I can see why you would suspect Marzia now."
Harry looked up abruptly.
"Wait…you think I'm right?" he asked uncertainly.
Sirius smiled faintly, raising one eyebrow at his godson.
"Now I didn't say that, did I?" he asked wryly. "I understand that you have your suspicions, and I can see why, but I don't think Marzia is connected with Saaneeraa. I think we're being made to believe she is though."
Harry looked at his godfather for a moment in silence, before fully understanding what he'd just heard.
"Wait…you think someone's setting Marzia up? Why?"
"To take the focus away from themselves would be my guess," Sirius answered seriously. "If we're all so busy concentrating on watching Marzia, the person who's truly a threat to us may go unnoticed."
"But who?" Harry asked. "Who would do that?"
Sirius shook his head slowly.
"There are too many people I don't trust right now Harry, so I have no way to answer that question. Marzia and I will be doing everything possible to find the true enemy here…and expose them."
Harry averted his eyes as his godfather spoke.
"I hate to even bring this up…" he began hesitantly, "but are you positive you can trust Marzia? I know you don't want to believe she's against us, but you even admitted you could see why I suspect her."
"Harry," Sirius began gently. "I understand your reasons for not trusting her. But I don't agree with them. I do trust Marzia, with all my heart I believe she's on our side. And unless I'm proven completely and utterly wrong, I will continue to believe this."
"What if completely and utterly wrong means someone else dying?" Harry asked quietly, shaking his head. "I can't go through that again Sirius…I can't…"
"You won't," Sirius said firmly, reaching out and placing a hand on his godson's shoulder. "I swear you won't."
Harry thought there was really no way Sirius could make such a promise, as neither of them knew who was trustworthy and who wasn't, but he didn't want to talk about it any longer. He nodded faintly at his godfather's statement, before quickly changing the subject.
"What's going to happen with Mr. and Mrs. Chang? And what about…" he paused, lowering his voice, "what about the funeral?"
"The Changs will remain in the care of Madam Pomfrey and Professor Gazten for the time being. As for the funeral…it will be postponed, until we know more."
"Postponed?" Harry repeated weakly. He knew there wasn't much choice, seeing as if there was any chance of Mr. and Mrs. Chang waking up they had to wait, but he needed closure at the same time, and now he would have to wait even longer.
"I know it's the last thing you wanted to hear right now," Sirius said apologetically. "But I'm sure you understand…"
"No I do," Harry interrupted, trying to smile reassuringly. "I do." He sighed lightly, shifting his position, feeling a bit restless suddenly.
"Where is everyone now then?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore, Cole, Marzia…and what about Lucius?"
"Lucius will be remaining in the school for the time being, under close watch. Albus has spoken with him, for several hours in fact, early this morning. He wouldn't say much, but from what he told us, Lucius would be a danger to both you and Draco if we let him go. If he didn't go after either of you on his own, he'd surely relay what he's learned to Voldemort. It isn't safe to release him."
"So we're just going to keep him locked up?" Harry asked. "Won't Draco be mad?"
"We don't have much of a choice," Sirius replied. "It isn't as if we're keeping him in some dirty dungeon cell, he is being well taken care of, but he has to stay where he is. As for Draco," Sirius went on, a sly smile spreading across his face, "he'll have to learn to deal with disappointment, it'll be a good learning experience for him."
Harry shook his head, a faint grin on his lips.
"You're terrible, sometimes, you know that don't you? Just terrible."
"I try," Sirius joked, taking a deep breath, a humble expression on his face.
"That's it, out!" Harry cried, laughing. "I need to get dressed anyway, don't want to sit here all day…"
"No I can't imagine you would. Besides, Albus has something to tell you anyway, something I think you'll want to hear…"
"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued. "What is it?"
"Can't tell ya," Sirius replied with a teasing grin. "I guess you'll just have to wait and find out."
Harry groaned as his godfather left the room, but smiled just the same. Changing his clothes back into the one's he'd worn the day before as quickly as possible, he raced out of the room, and headed back for the office.
When Harry stepped through the doorway to the headmaster's office, he found both Dumbledore and Sirius waiting for him, sitting on either side of the large desk. They looked up as he entered, and Harry was relieved to see they were both smiling faintly. He didn't want any more fighting between them.
"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"
"Good morning," Harry replied, taking the empty chair next to Sirius. "And yes, thank you. I slept fine," he said, even though he still felt a bit groggy.
"Well you still have a few days of break yet," Dumbledore said, seeing that Harry looked somewhat overtired. "Sirius told me that he spoke with you about the Changs and Mr. Malfoy?"
Harry nodded faintly.
"Yes he did," he said quietly, "Has Draco been told about Lucius?"
"I spoke to him when he woke this morning," the headmaster replied.
"And?" Harry prompted.
"He was not pleased, to say the least," Dumbledore said seriously, "but he has calmed down since then. He realizes this is for the safety of both of you, as well as for his father."
Harry nodded, expecting as much. Glancing away from the headmaster, towards his godfather, he noticed a sly grin on Sirius' face, before quickly looking back to Dumbledore, remembering why he'd raced out there.
"Sirius said you had something to tell me," Harry began, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Did he now?" Dumbledore replied, smirking. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned closer to Harry across his desk. "A word of advice, Harry," he said, quietly, his smile broadening, "never tell Sirius Black something you want kept secret. It's a physical strain for him not to tell anyone."
"Hey!" Sirius cried, in mock insult. "Stop lying to my godson, Albus, I can keep a secret…" he trailed off, seeing the large smile on Harry's face. "Besides," he continued, looking back at the headmaster, "I didn't tell him anything, apart from the fact that you wanted to speak with him…what's so bad about that?"
Dumbledore chuckled softly, shaking his head, but didn't reply, instead he turned his attention to Harry, his demeanor becoming a bit more serious.
"There is something I want to ask you, Harry," he began pleasantly. "And listen to all I say before you answer. I believe, that we can still continue the quidditch season this year. I know there is much going on, and any practices that are held will most certainly be under very close supervision, it would not be Madam Hooch alone any longer. But if you feel up to it, then I will allow the season to begin again."
"You're asking me if I want there to be quidditch this year?" Harry asked incredulously. "It's my choice?"
"If it were not your last year," Dumbledore explained, "And if I did not feel it was appropriate, then it would not be your decision. But I know it's sometimes necessary to have something to occupy your mind, especially in hard times, and I know how much you love this game. But I did not want to assume, so if you do not want it, I won't announce it to the school, and that will be that."
Harry couldn't believe it; he was being given the choice to make for the entire school.
"Yes!" he said without hesitation, smiling brightly. "Yes of course I want it to continue!"
"I thought that would be your answer," Dumbledore replied, grinning.
"Thank you," Harry said. "I mean it, I really thought you were going to cancel the season for this year…"
"I was going to," Dumbledore replied, nodding. "It was only after much argument…much nagging, I should say, from your godfather here, that we decided on giving you the option."
Harry looked quickly to Sirius, who was beaming at him.
"Thank you," he said again, genuinely smiling.
"Just make sure Gryffindor wins the cup," Sirius said with a wink.
"Yes sir," Harry replied, saluting jokingly, before looking back at the headmaster.
"What about practice? When will we be able to start?"
"The amount of time you have to practice," Dumbledore began seriously, "will be less than it has been in past years, Madam Hooch will be scheduling times for each house, but it will be equally spread out, so it will remain fair. The games will be much closer together than they usually are, so it will be important that everyone stick close to the schedule."
Harry nodded, too happy over the fact that quidditch was still going to continue this year to care about shortened practice times.
He talked with Sirius and Dumbledore for a few moments more, and promised the headmaster he wouldn't say anything until he'd announced it to the school, before thanking them both again and starting back to his common room, smiling more than he had the entire week.