Soon, however, events transpired that made it easy to forget Draco. Harry woke one day a couple of weeks before Christmas holidays with a splitting headache, and vague memories of a dream. Together, they meant only one thing – Voldemort. Harry checked his watch – three a.m. – and got up, grabbing his wand and murmuring Lumos in the dark. Quickly he grabbed some parchment and wrote down everything he could remember, and then he grabbed the invisibility cloak and headed out of Gryffindor Tower.

Reaching the teacher's quarters, Harry paused. Should he go to Moony (and possibly Padfoot) or Dumbledore? Harry was inclined to visit Moony first, especially considering the time of night that it was. Mind made up, he headed for the familiar door, and knocked three times.

Harry? What – ? Oh. Moony's voice could be heard inside, and then Harry heard him walk to the door and open it.

It's Voldemort. I think he's on the move, or something. I wrote it all down, and here he procured the parchment, but it wasn't as clear as it normally is.

Moony frowned. Hmm. I can't say that I like this at all, seeing as it's been what, since the summer? that you had a dream.

Harry nodded.

Well, I'll go see Dumbledore first thing in the morning and talk to him. Now, go on, get yourself back to bed. Remus grinned lovingly at the boy he considered to be his godson and Harry smiled back as he turned back towards his own dormitory and his own bed.

The next morning, Harry told Hermione, Seamus, and Dean about the dream he had had, and they filled in Fred, George, Lee, Katie, Angelina, Angela, and Ginny when they all headed down to breakfast. Strange how coming out gained me more friends, Harry mused, but lost me my best one. The eleven Gryffindors discussed the possible meanings of the dream throughout breakfast and they were just standing up to go to class when Moony approached Harry.

Harry, Dumbledore wants to see you now. He glanced at the others. I assume you told them? The other ten nodded concertedly. Alright, two of you come with us, but that's it.

Hermione immediately stood up, leaving the other nine staring at each other. It should be either Seamus or Dean, we need someone in Harry's dorm, Fred said decisively. The two boys looked at each other and shrugged, and Dean stood up.

I'll go, since I'm in Quidditch as well. That decided, the odd quartet departed the great hall. They walked in silence up the staircases to Dumbledore's office, and they all filed in somberly.

Harry. Hermione. Dean. Dumbledore greeted each of them in turn. I want to extend my condolences on recent events and your relationship with Mr. Weasley. I regret it came to that difficulty; frankly, we on the staff expected better from him.

Harry merely nodded stiffly as they sat down, Hermione and Dean taking in the surroundings of the office.

Well. I have looked at your account of your dream from last night, Harry, and I have combined it with other information we have at our disposal. We believe that Voldemort and Wormtail are attempting to gain access to the castle through the secret passages Wormtail knew of as a student. Moony stiffened visibly, and a shudder ran through Harry involuntarily. We cannot be sure, obviously, of the date or specific nature of the attack, but we have reason to believe it will most likely be after the Christmas holidays rather than before. Still, it reminds us that too many of our students are woefully unprepared to defend themselves. Dumbledore paused, and glanced at Moony, who cleared his throat.

What he means is, we're going to be having extra classes. The students will generally be hand-picked. The large group of you in Gryffindor, several students from other houses. In light of present circumstances, however, we're going to have to leave Ron Weasley out of the classes.

Harry nodded. I understand. The other two nodded as well, all three expressions sad. Ron had been a friend for four years, and it was still painful that Ron's own unreasonable hatred was causing this split. Dumbledore shared a few other aspects of his plan before he sent the three of them off to class, giving specific instructions to each of them on dealing with potential scenarios. Lost in thought, they arrived at Transfiguration over fifteen minutes late. Ron sneered at them as they entered, and McGonagall's face was disapproving, even as she read the note from Dumbledore and Lupin. Sighing, she resumed lecturing, while Harry's thoughts were elsewhere.

So Voldemort thinks he can attack Hogwarts, does he, Harry mused. I think he'll find that we put up a tougher fight than he might wager for – especially after some of us have had these special classes! It'd be bloody brilliant if we learned how to become Animagi as well. I s'pose I could take a leaf out of my dad's book and do it on my own. Hmmm. Harry continued to muse over this new news of the war throughout the day.


Christmas was a strained affair, as the only Gryffindors in the tower were the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. Harry was on edge because of the impending attack from Voldemort, and Ron stalked around the tower angrily throughout the break. The only positive part of Christmas was that he still got a Weasley jumper and candy from Mrs. Weasley, same as every other year, as well as getting gifts from Fred and George for the first time.

Classes restarted, and Harry was disappointed that the special classes would not include learning to become Animagi, although the curses, hexes, and counter-curses would be helpful at some point, Harry was sure. The class consisted of the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Hermione, Ginny, Seamus, Neville, Lavender, several sixth years, and a smattering of participants from other house, including Draco Malfoy, much to everyone's surprise. He and Millicent Bulstrode were the only Slytherins in the class. Other students were in less advanced classes that contained, according to Professor Lupin, less dangerous information,' and Ron was in one of those classes, due mainly to his perceived unstable loyalties. At that point, Harry understood the reasoning completely, and agreed fully.

Time seemed to accelerate then, between Harry's normal classes, the special evening classes, Quidditch practise, and the nightmares that were returning on a weekly basis, and occasionally more frequently. He had a pattern now. Wake up, write down what he could remember, head towards Moony's office and hand off the parchment. Meeting during breakfast with Dumbledore, late to first class. After awhile, his friends started rotating who would come with him to Dumbledore's office. This served two purposes; one, it made sure everyone was adequately informed, and two, everyone got a chance to miss part of a class that way. After all, Harry thought, what good were the nightmares if he couldn't benefit his friends in some small way?

With each nightmare, they were able to piece together more and more of the plan, and some of their evening classes were devoted to setting up wards and protective charms throughout the castle. When the attack came, all students in third year and below were to immediately PortKey to an undisclosed safe location' – though Harry privately thought it was most likely somewhere deep below Hogwarts. Among fourth and fifth years, only those in the evening classes would remain, while all sixth and seventh years would remain. The students in Harry's class were especially nervous; they were to be hidden, a reserve of sorts, only to be brought out if needed. Harry hoped desperately that they would not be needed, even though some members of the class were slightly angry that they would not be allowed to fight.



In mid-March, Dumbledore put Harry and the rest of the elite group on alert that the attack could happen at any time. They had sensor wards monitoring all possible entrances to Hogwarts grounds, and all the faculty plus the elite students would be alerted or awakened immediately if any of them were tripped. They had at least one prefect in each house among their group, and they were responsible for getting the other students Port Key'd away. Harry was a bundle of nerves, scar hurting almost continually. Two nights passed, then three. On the fourth night, a loud keening woke Harry up.

Bloody hell! came the exclamation from Harry, Seamus, and Dean simultaneously. Harry grabbed his wand and immediately left the dormitory, pounding on the younger students' doors. First years! Up! Port Key NOW! Second years! Up! Away, NOW! Third years, UP!! Go NOW!! Harry could hear Hermione and GInny on the girls' side and Fred and George urging some of the fourth and fifth years away. Those missions accomplished, the remaining Gryffindors left the tower, half headed for the reserve area, the others headed to a staging area. Already the air was thick and crackly with magic. Harry and the others reached the reserve area, relieved to see the others already there, and knowing it meant all of the younger students were away and safe. They all huddled there, silent, fearing the worst, but seeing nor hearing nothing. The magic in the air was even heavier than before, Harry sensed. He glanced around the room, still surprised that Draco Malfoy was in there and not out fighting with the Death Eaters. Well, he stopped himself, he would've been surprised last year, but this year... Draco hadn't taunted Harry once, made a single slur to Ron, and uttered mudblood' a single time the entire term. Harry didn't know what had changed, but he liked the outward change very well, and the inward change was a definite improvement.

Minutes dragged by, and turned into hours. The magic in the air continued to grow thicker and more oppressive, as well as... darker. Then Draco stood up. I know Dumbledore said to wait, but... there's something wrong. This magic feels wrong, even for Dark magic.

Harry stared for a moment, then slowly nodded. Draco was right. The magic felt very very wrong. Draco's right. All is not as it should be.

But what can we do? asked Hermione, always practical. And what exactly feels wrong?

The magic is... weak, Harry said finally. As if...

As if the real battle is elsewhere, and Hogwarts merely a diversion, Draco finished grimly.

Harry had to nod in agreement. Stupid git! I should've realised it ages ago.

Why, Potter? Draco finally asked, as the room stared at Harry.

Harry grimaced. Because this bloody scar hurts whenever Voldemort is near by. The room emitted a collective gasp.

Oh, Harry, you're right! I should've thought of that as well! Hermione exclaimed. But what do we do now?

Harry frowned. 'Mione, is there any kind of charm that would let us hear or see what's going on outside this room without weakening the charms already protecting it?

Hermione was silent for a long time. There might just be. Virginas Ocularis. If we all said it at once, that is.

Harry shrugged. It's our best chance, isn't it?

The others in the room reluctantly nodded. Alright then, Hermione said, her voice brave but shaky, on three. One... two... three.

VIRGINAS OCULARIS chanted the students in the room, and suddenly the walls became transparent.

Harry gasped at the scene before them. Most of the students and faculty were immobilised, yet were breathing steadily, as if to show that they were not dead. Full body bind, you think? Harry whispered.

Hermione agreed. Probably. Look at Neville, see, doesn't he look just like he did first year?

Longbottom got hit with the full body bind in first year? Draco's voice was incredulous.

Um, yeah. Harry paused. Actually, Hermione cast it; he was trying to stop us from keeping Quirrel from getting to the philosopher's stone.

Draco's expression was puzzled. Oh. Well, at any rate, I don't think there are any Death Eaters here now. Probably they were supposed to look for you, Potter.

Harry shrugged. Probably. Or you? Harry was guessing, but he knew that Malfoy hadn't gone home for Christmas this year, nor had he mentioned his father, so Harry suspected there was some falling out there.

Draco regarded him steadily. Hmm. Maybe you have some Ravenclaw in you, then, Potter. Could be me. Could be.

Hermione took over the conversation again at that point. What are we to do? We can't risk there being some Death Eaters still there.

Uh, Hermione, I do have a method of getting us out there unseen.

Yes, but that's in Gryffindor Tower and we'd still –

No, 'Mione, it's not. I think we could fit three of us under it still.

Under what? Draco was clearly bewildered.

My invisibility cloak. Now, come on, Hermione. Draco, are you coming or not?



No, one of the other ten Dracos in the room. Yes, you.

Why are you trusting me?

Because you came into this room instead of helping.

That could be part of a plan.

Yes, and I could be a Death Eater. Harry shrugged. But I'm not, and I'm Gryffindor, and I'm trusting you, at least for today. Now, come ON.

The three students crept out of the room, wands held at the ready. They reached Professor McGonagall first. whispered Hermione, even as Harry and Draco were casting the same spell on others in the corridors. Soon, a large group had formed, and the trio returned to the hidden room.

Okay, everyone, Dumbledore and all the rest are awake now, so we're supposed to go back to our rooms until the morning. Good night. Harry finished the short speech with a large sigh, as the adrenaline induced energy wore off with a crash. There would be questions in the morning, but for tonight he would simply rest.