Rating: R
Warnings: If you are under fifteen years old and/or homophobic, I seriously suggest you do not read this. This chapter includes slash and coarse language.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and The Story So Far are property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, and I have no intent of contesting that right, especially since both have done extremely well in creating and maintaining the spirit of said characters and story. In case either one happens upon this story one day: congratulations and please don't sue me! I mean no harm.
Pleas: Reviews would be nice; flames are also welcome. I will make a spirited attempt to reply to every single one, but I can't guarantee it. Flamers be warned: I will be very logical, pedantic and probably curious in my response. It can be a nuisance, but you'll have to learn to live with it.
Thanks To: Wednesday, K. Ashley, Alynnia*McKinnon, S. Maldiva (*Grins* Harper doesn't seem to spend much time laughing, so I really couldn't say whether he lives up to his animal persona there or not. With regard to Fawkes—the phoenix holds less judgement over Snape than both you and he think. I'm working on Sirius, believe it or not. It'll take some doing, but he'll get around to accepting Harry and Draco. He will, he will, he will.), Ixi, Alpha Juliet, Shukumei-of-another-world, bwaybaby79, Draco Malfoy-N-Harry Potter, Amalin, Twilights Death, Blaze, tess74, Antinua, Jurikichi, Draco's Secret Lover, cattail prophetess, celestinne (^^; Gee, I'm happy you like the story so much. Believe me, between the time the last chapter was updated and now, I've spent a lot of exams thinking about All Torn Down when I ought to have been working out how to pass. You have my very solemn assurance that I will finish it; I'll be kicking myself if I don't, and from the sound of things there will be a few people joining in.), Reena, Blue Moon, AshFarley, Sheron, Dark Peppermint, Erana, Shiko, Beloved, Mari, Arilla Riddle, Sorceress Jade, Blizzard, Spike, Lindsey, White Rain, Kendra A, S. Wing.
All Torn Down: A Different Kind of Winter
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:—
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?—
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old,
When fellowship seemed not so far to seekAnd all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.
— The Thread of Life, Christina Georgina Rossetti
Harry watched Draco amid the morning flurry of owl mail, trying to do so without attracting anyone's attention. The odd downy feather floated to the ground between the house tables, amid the magically-emulated snowflakes drifting downward from the ceiling. It seemed to Harry that a different kind of winter was beginning to settle over Hogwarts.
Draco had his eyes lowered over his plate while the Slytherins around him spoke and ate as if he wasn't there. Harry glanced at Neville and Ginny, holding hands under the table and speaking quietly to one another as Hermione reached out to snatch up her issue of the Daily Prophet, and back at his boyfriend, empty fingers curling on the tabletop. He bit back the sour sense of unfairness in his mouth with a forkful of fried egg.
'Oh, that's disgusting!'
Harry jumped, hastily returning his attention to Hermione, who had thrown the newspaper down in outrage. She sat back, folding her arms and kicking at the floor. 'This is ridiculous. We have to send a Howler to the editor's office.'
Harry relaxed. She was only talking about the Prophet.
He looked at the offending page—the first—and gagged.
'We can't,' Neville was saying. 'There's a law against obstructing the freedom of the wizard press.'
'What about their duty to provide unbiased reports?'
'And our right not to have to see Lucius Malfoy's face at the breakfast table,' Harry muttered, glaring at the photograph set beside an article on the Ministry candidates' latest campaigning escapades. The faux-Malfoy smirked up at him, his teeth glinting, while he held a toddler witch in one arm. The mother, standing a little to the side, seemed somewhat concerned by her child's insistent tugging of a fistful of blonde hair, although Lucius himself appeared indifferent.
The headline read, 'TUITION TENSION'. Flicking his eyes over the article, Harry caught the gist of a debate sparked by Malfoy the previous week over whether or not magical education should be begun at the same age at which wizard children started their normal schooling. There was uproar over the suggestion—it would completely overturn the current arrangements; Muggleborns would need to be separated from their parents at far too early an age; there would be unfair pressure upon young children to begin showing signs of magic—but for all that, there were some persuasive arguments for the idea as well. Guiltily, Harry considered how much he'd have given to be able to get away from the Dursleys so many years earlier.
'Malfoy's got money,' Seamus said. 'I bet he's paying someone to give him all this coverage. Anyway, all the other candidates get mentioned too. There just aren't as many pretty pictures of them.'
Harry shuddered, handing the paper back to Hermione. 'Who'd call Malfoy pretty?'
'Yeah,' Seamus murmured. 'You'd have to be mad, right?'
The barb in that remark only registered with Harry several moments later, after they had left the Great Hall for the Healing classroom. He bit his lip, shuffling into the room and sliding into a seat beside Hermione in silence.
Professor Fletcher began the lesson and Harry allowed his attention to drift, tuning out the droning voice and, moments later, the sound of dozens of quills scratching against parchment. His own hand remained empty.
Hermione's fingertips brushed his, and he looked up. 'Is something wrong, Harry?'
He grimaced, sighing. 'Just...you know. Everything.'
She nodded. 'Nothing's the same, is it? Have you noticed how everyone's been avoiding us?'
'I thought that was just me.'
'Professor Fletcher's been staring at you for five minutes now, trying to get up the courage to come over here and tell you to do your work.' She began to write again. 'Hogwarts needs to learn to cope with things like this.'
'What do you mean?'
'You heard Dumbledore at the meeting. There's only going to be more fighting from now on. More people are going to die.' Hermione's face twisted as if she were about to cry, but her voice was calm and clinical when she spoke. 'Ron was just the first.'
Harry patted her arm. 'I miss him too, Mione.'
A bare flicker of a smile crossed her face. 'You ought to get started. Professor Fletcher looks like he's almost built up enough nerve. And there are the O.W.L.s coming up. We need to get ready for them.'
'Mm.' It struck Harry, as he watched her bend her head again over the parchment, that a few weeks ago Hermione hadn't seemed half so worried about the O.W.L.s as she was these days.
Reluctantly, he picked up his quill and scribbled down the notes on the board without bothering to digest what they actually meant. As far as he was concerned, it didn't matter anyway; none of his recent schoolwork seemed to. That was a sentiment probably best kept secret from Hermione; she'd immediately place him under a strict tutoring regime if she knew about it.
Harry sneaked a glance back at where Draco was sitting, near the corner of the room. There were a lot of things, lately, that seemed to be best kept secret.
The lesson stretched on and, at some point, ended. Harry found himself being herded outside by Hermione and across the snow-swept grounds for Care of Magical Creatures.
Hagrid appeared from his hut as the class began to take up position by their trees, and strode up the path towards them. Interested murmurs arose as people caught sight of Fang following close behind him, and Harry heard someone giggle at the pink umbrella he held in one hand. From the way Hagrid's brows beetled together, he'd heard too.
'The forest creatures've been gettin' a bit...curious,' he said as he reached the head of the group. He jabbed his thumb back toward the border of the Forbidden Forest, where the gleam of bestial eyes and the forms of watching animals could be spotted here and there amid the leaves and shadows. 'They've pestered some o' the other classes, so this is by way of bein' a warnin' to 'em.'
Someone near the back of the class sniggered. 'You're going to fight them off with your umbrella?'
Hagrid's expression darkened as the titters, some apologetic and some outright taunting, arose. He pointed the umbrella at a spot on the ground a few feet in front of him. 'Incendio.'
Abrupt silence fell at the flame that leapt up, melting the snow around it. Hagrid doused it with a word and looked up. 'Any questions?'
Harry grimaced sympathetically at him as the cynics fidgeted and coughed. Between the loss of a considerable enough number of his pupils to result in his taking care of at least three sets of imp mates alone, and the forest animals' increasing lack of reserve, Hagrid's resources and temper had been stretched to their limits over the past two weeks. Impromptu humorists were the last thing he needed.
'Right. Now, I've got some bad news fer yeh—well, I reckon it's bad. I'd bet a Sickle or two some of yeh're goin' to be pretty happy about it…' he sighed. 'Dumbledore, the centaur Firenze and I've been talking about…things. And…it's been decided that raisin' yer imps isn't as important at the moment as getting to know some o' the forest creatures so's you can fight alongside 'em properly when...when the time comes.'
Looking at the nest that he and Hermione's imps had built of twigs and knitted pine needles, Harry's heart foundered. He'd grown quite attached to them.
'I wanted to get 'em all to a point where yeh could see how they raised their families before we released 'em,' Hagrid went on; 'but that's not goin' ter happen anymore. Instead, we're goin' to wait until the eggs've hatched, which should be in a coupla days now, and then we'll let 'em all go into the Forest.
'Fer today, I want yeh to just make sure the eggs are all safe an' sound. Keep a good eye on 'em and call me over if yeh can see anything movin' about under the shell—things shouldn't happen for a few days yet, but imps sometimes pop out early just like human babies do.' He added, as the students turned away to begin work: 'Be careful o' the parents, too. This close to hatching time, they start gettin' snippy, and they might even go fer each other if they're worried enough.'
Even with that warning, Harry heard several yelps from classmates who'd got too close to their charges as he examined the eggs.
They were becoming increasingly difficult to find, even though he knew by now exactly where they had been laid: the imps' changing camouflage was excellent. Once contrived to look like the leaves around them, the eggs now resembled nothing so much as large drops of frozen dew hanging from the branches; they even gleamed where they caught the sunlight. With snow and ice building up on the branches each morning, it was an extremely good ruse. Harry reached out tentatively to touch one with the tip of his finger.
He paused at the angry hiss that rose from a knothole in the trunk. His imp sprang upward, tiny claws raking the air; its dappled face distorted with hormonal rage, and pounced on his wrist. Harry grimaced, watching tiny pinpricks of blood form where the claws dug in.
'Found mine,' he said, prying it from his hand.
'I think mine's hiding in the nest,' Hermione said, peering around the branches. Her eyes widened at the marks on his hand. 'Harry, Hagrid warned us not to get too close! Look what it's done!'
He shrugged. 'It doesn't really hurt. Anyway, it drew him out, didn't it?'
Hermione pursed her lips, but chose not to comment. She disappeared again to the other side of the tree. 'I count fifteen on this side. I think we've lost a few.'
'Maybe. I've only got seventeen that I can see over here, but...' Harry tapped one of the eggs, keeping a firm grip on his agitated imp. '...They keep changing so much it's difficult to place them. I guess we'll find out when they start hatching.'
'I suppose so. I can't find any broken shells anywh—'
Hermione's voice was drowned out by a sudden commotion on the edge of the imps' grounds that lay nearest to the Forbidden Forest, distinguished by the squeals of Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil. Someone shouted for Hagrid, and as the half-giant lumbered into view from amid the trees, umbrella in hand with Fang trailing behind him, Harry and Hermione both looked around to see what was happening.
Between the branches and the other heads bobbing about to get a look, Harry managed to make out the form of a luminous white horse wandering among the class. It swung its head, and he caught sight of a stub of horn above its forehead.
'All right, all right, everyone just get back,' Hagrid called. 'Back to what yeh were doin', Miss Patil; I know it's pretty but it ain't tame. Looks like a littl'un to me. Just keep out of its way and it'll do no harm; let it find its own way out. Prob'ly lost…'
Harry's attention was diverted by a trace of movement over his left eye; he raised his head and stared at a rounded icicle suspended above him on a twig's tip.
His imp stirred, restless within his grasp, the claws of its hind legs scrabbling for purchase against his fingers. With a sigh, Harry lifted it to his shoulder, taking the nip he received on the ear as a dubious sign of affection.
'You'll be a rotten father,' he said conversationally, not taking his eyes from the glistening sphere. The imp grunted. 'Your kids will turn out just like you, you'll see. And you're going to have at least thirty-two of them, if Hermione and I've done our maths right. I know she will have...'
There was that flicker again; a quick darkening from within the egg as something pressed against the shell, trying to find its way out. The branch trembled a little with the force of the movement. Harry gave a slight smile.
'Right. I hope you've been looking forward to this—'
'Harry!'
He jumped at the sudden cry, and looked up into Hermione's ashen face. She wasn't staring at him, though; her eyes were locked on a point well past his shoulder. She pointed wordlessly. As Harry turned, his ears filtered in the urgent message that the class had gone very quiet.
He saw the cause of the sudden silence, and his world shrunk.
The unicorn had not found its way out. It had found Draco, and at that moment its head was bent low, the tip of the horn pressed in between his shoulder blades as he knelt on the ground. Something in the strain of its muscles that stated, quite clearly, that going within three feet of it would be an extremely stupid and painful decision.
Draco, caught with an imp dangling from one finger, was still as a statue. With painstaking care not to make any sudden movements, he forced the little creature to let go, put it on the ground wherefrom it scuttled into the lower branches of its tree, and very, very slowly, got to his feet. The horn moved with him all the way.
Harry could feel a burning ache on his shoulder where his imp's claws had begun to find their way through his clothing. He gazed about until he saw Hagrid, standing wide-eyed and immobile several feet away. He tried to find his voice.
'H-Hagrid...' he said, taking a small step forward; 'What's—'The unicorn snorted, and Hagrid raised his umbrella slightly, but it was directed towards Harry.
'Stay back,' he said. 'I know yer worried, Harry, but just now it'd be a really good idea to keep back and not say anythin'...Malfoy, turn around, face it down. It won't do a thing if yeh show it yer not afraid...'
A soft, nervous titter drifted among the students at that, as they watched Draco turn, his face a mask of terror. Harry wanted to scream at them.
'Good, good...' Hagrid murmured. 'Stare it down, yeh've got nothin' ter hide...'
Draco was looking bolt ahead, straight at Harry, as he stood there. So Harry could see exactly what was happening inside his mind as Hagrid swivelled the umbrella until it was pointed at the beast, and took a smooth, slow step forward.
The horn blurred as it shifted upward from Draco's chest to his throat. His eyes rolled back so far that Harry could only see the whites. Hagrid stepped back, but the unicorn didn't move, its gaze locked on Draco's heart.
'Don' let it scare yeh, Malfoy—'
Draco's eyes rolled around again to glare at the teacher. His fists clenched.
'Don't get angry,' Hagrid said sharply. 'It'll only hurt yeh if yeh give it a reason. It's only little. Get in control and it'll let yeh be.'
Harry felt his imp climb up onto the ridge of his ear, tangling its forepaws in his hair as it sought a handhold. It was whimpering urgently; he overruled it as unimportant.
He watched Draco's fingers uncurl and rise, trembling. They flinched when the unicorn snorted, but continued to move upward. Draco bent his head back, seemingly on the verge of fainting, and wrapped his fingers about the tip of the horn—
Two screams, one equine; one human, rose above the trees as the unicorn tore itself from Draco's grip. It wheeled about, eyes wild. Harry dodged aside, dragging Hermione with him, as the beast surged forward, unmindful of what it trampled in its panic to get out. Too late, he heard his imp's wail and the cracking of a branch.
In the next moment, the rest of the class wisely began getting back to work while Hagrid and Draco began to shout at each other. Amid the noise, Harry's imp slid from his shoulder and pattered across the ground to the fallen branch. In the midst of the trampled leaves, and twigs was a mess of broken shell, still gleaming with a wan sheen, covered in a sticky clear fluid contaminated with tendrils of crimson.
Harry sank down to his knees, watching the grey little figure begin to poke about among the debris, crooning mournfully. He felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder.
'Thirty-one, then,' she sighed. 'I suppose it could have been a lot worse.'
He reached out and began to sift through the pieces of shell with the imp. Hermione dipped her head to stare at him.
'Harry, there's nothing you can do about it. All right?' When he failed to respond, she shook her head and stood up, muttering that the nest might have been damaged. She left him to check.
Bit by bit, Harry uncovered the baby imp's body. It was about half the length of Harry's thumb, and a muddy brown marred by dark red blotches on its limbs, where it had suffered worst from the unicorn's hooves. Its right forepaw was completely mangled.
Gently, Harry lifted it up in his fingers. The grey imp clambered onto his hand with it. It crouched over the body and began to shake it, still whimpering. Eventually Harry pulled the imp away.
'There's no point,' he said, laying his thumb across the baby's chest. 'I'm sorry…'
…beat…
'…Harry?'
Hermione reappeared, holding the nest, which was slightly dented and had come away from the fastenings on its branch but was otherwise unharmed. She was smiling.
…beat…beat…
'I don't think we lost any after all…'
He got to his feet, keeping his thumb on the imp so that he didn't lose the tiny pulse. She proffered the nest. Hearing movement, he peered into the darkness beyond the ragged entrance.
'There are five in there, not counting mum,' Hermione said. 'That makes thirty-seven. That's what we began with. We didn't lose one!'
Harry lifted his thumb and pulled Hermione's hand over his so that she could feel the beat too. Her eyes widened, and he grinned. 'No. Not one.'
'We will if we don't get Hagrid to look at this,' she said, stroking it. 'Come on.'
The argument between Draco and Hagrid had boiled down to a muttered diatribe as the half-giant examined the bloodied hand with which Draco had grasped the unicorn's horn, and even that dried up as Hagrid saw them approach.
'We've got an injured imp here,' Hermione said. Hagrid took one look at the baby and sagged.
'I'll be having some long words with Firenze next time I see him. All this over a stray unicorn…' he sighed. 'The three of yeh'd better get inside my house. I'm sure the rest o' the class knows when lunch starts, yes?'
There were nods of concurrence in reply to the question. Hagrid whistled for Fang and ushered them all into the hut.
Hagrid hung his umbrella on a hook behind the door as they settled themselves into oversized chairs around his table, Draco nursing his hand carefully. He turned around and clapped his hands together.
'All right. First things first—let's get a look at this mite. Malfoy, will yeh be all right to get that bit o' horn out on yer own?'
Draco grunted, already working at the cut in his palm. Harry dragged his seat over to him. Silently, he took Draco's hand in his own and, spotting the silver-white sliver embedded in it, began to work it out.
He listened to Hagrid moving jars and crockery about on shelves and chatting to Hermione with one ear while Draco flinched and took turns at thanking him and cursing. The half-giant found whatever it was he was looking for and set it down on the table with a dull thunk.
'Right, now give us it here…I'd not make such a fuss if I were you, Malfoy. That was a stupid thing ter do.'
'You helped a lot,' Draco muttered.
'I was tellin' yeh what ter do, and if you'd listened instead o' panicking, yeh'd be fine now.'
'You didn't tell me not to do that!'
'Well, it's pretty basic unicorn knowledge not to touch the horn,' Hagrid said, taking the lid off a jar. 'They were nearly hunted to extinction once, just fer the horns, and it's a sensitive area in the young'uns anyhow.' He motioned for Hermione to hand him the imp. 'Oh, poor little bugger. This'll hurt a bit, I reckon. Better give it a drop of brandy or it'll have a heart attack.'
A few more cautious tugs on the piece of horn, and it came free. Under the guise of searching for more slivers in the cut, Harry gave Draco's fingertips a squeeze. He smiled when he felt it returned.
'Hermione, have yeh got a hold of the mother? And Harry, yeh've got the dad with yeh? Good, just turn 'em round fer a sec. Wouldn't want 'em to see what I'm goin' to do; I don't know who'd survive…'
There was a scrape of metal, and Harry heard Hermione say, 'Hagrid, what's that—' before a heavy thud and a scream. He looked up.
'Sorry 'bout that,' Hagrid said. He picked something covered in blood from the tabletop and threw it at Fang, who snapped it up from midair. 'I know it's not nice, Hermione, but it's best just to get it over with, and it would have done nothin' but get infected if we'd left it. Now we dab a little of this over the wounds and yer imp'll be right as rain—wonderful stuff, this; someday I oughtta thank Snape fer telling me where to go—there, all done.'
The imp, splayed out on the table as if sleeping on the world's biggest bed, was covered in what looked like grey sludge. Its right arm ended in a paw-less stump.
The father slid from his perch on Harry shoulder and scampered across to it. It nudged the barrel body anxiously; the baby hiccupped in reply and rolled over.
'Do yeh want some o' this, Malfoy?' Hagrid proffered the jar that held the sludge. 'Might help that cut heal.'
'No,' Draco said. 'I have something else in my room that I can use.'
Hagrid's brow rose. 'Present from yer father, eh?'
'No!'
There was a short, thorny silence, followed by Hagrid standing to clean the knife he'd used and put the brandy bottle and the jar back on the shelf. With his back still turned, he said, 'It does yeh no good at all ter be so touchy, yeh know. I didn't mean anything by that. An' if yeh keep snappin' at every little thing I'll have yeh out on yer ear without knowin' what just happened.'
Draco gritted his teeth, but sounded sincere when he spoke: 'Sorry.'
'I bet.' Hagrid sat back down. 'Now. What do yeh think was happenin' there, hm?'
'I don't know.'
'D'yeh think the unicorn was really just lost?'
'I...' Draco hesitated. 'Snape…thinks the forest creatures have a secret agenda.'
Hagrid sat back. 'He does, does he? And I suppose he reckons that's a bad thing?'
'Why shouldn't he?'
'He's not seeing what's in front of him. And that's help. We're goin' ter need it, and at the moment Firenze and the others are prepared ter give it. Same with everyone in the Order of the Phoenix, really. They all want something out of it, but the point is that they're the ones who're prepared to put something into it first.' Hagrid paused. 'Firenze seems to think that the three of yeh are goin' to be puttin' in a lot.'
'He's been watching us?' Hermione frowned.
'Sorta.' Hagrid chewed his lip. 'In the only way a centaur ever bothers to watch anything on earth, at least.'
'Through the stars,' Harry said dryly.
'Yep.'
'Oh, divination.'
'Don't sneer, Hermione, it don't look nice on yeh. The centaurs are good at what they do. They've been prophesying about Draco and Harry a lot, and about you, too, only not in quite the same way. So creatures in the forest've been keeping an eye on yeh, that's all.'
'I don't think that's all that unicorn was doing,' Draco murmured.
'No, nor do I, but that's why it targeted yeh. The thing is—see, hierarchy in the Forbidden Forest's a tricky thing. The centaurs are the rulers in there, but it's the unicorns who guard the place…'
'They think I'm a threat?'
'That one certainly did,' Hermione said.
Hagrid nodded. 'It might've just wanted to take a peek at one of the humans it'd heard so much about lately, but it found something in yeh that it didn't expect and didn't like. The thing is…yeh know about all the Muggle claptrap about unicorns bein' the purest of the pure and being able to single out evil? Well, that's sorta true, but—' Draco stiffened, though he stifled what he was about to say when Hagrid raised his hand. '—But it doesn't mean that yeh are. Unicorns don't see pure and impure the way humans do, and this prob'ly has more to do with how yeh feel yerself than what the unicorn thinks of yeh.'
'Mm.'
Hagrid gave him an odd look, which transferred to Harry before he went on. 'Perhaps yeh don't want to say anythin' about it in front of the rest of us, and that's fair enough, but I do think yeh know what I'm talking about. If yeh don't want somethin' like that ter happen again, yeh should let it be. All right?'
'Perhaps the unicorns will have to learn to put up with—'
'Perhaps yeh can make an effort, Malfoy!' Hagrid snapped. 'Yeh've got a real penchant fer getting' yerself scarred, lad. Don't go lookin' fer it, not in my class.'
Draco jolted to his feet. 'I didn't do it on purpose!'
'No, but what about next time? What'll yeh call it then, eh?'
Draco turned to leave, but he did stop at Hagrid's call.
'Firenze keeps sayin' something about yeh not bein' a Malfoy. Know what he's on about?'
'I think it means I've gone as far against my family as I can. That doesn't mean I wasn't with them once. I've got plenty of dirty little Malfoy secrets, if that's what you're asking.' He opened the door, but turned again before he stepped outside, frowning. 'Where's Harper in all of this?'
Hagrid shrugged. 'Around and about. He doesn't say much, but he always seems to be near Firenze.'
'Does Firenze say anything about a hyena in his prophecies?'
'Not that I've heard. But as Snape says, he has his own agenda. I doubt we hear everythin' he sees.'
Draco's expression darkened. He stepped back and the door closed on him.
Hermione bit her lip. 'Hagrid—'
She was interrupted by a whining yawn from the sleeping imp. The father, who'd been crouching close and prodding it every once in a while to make sure it was still alive, picked the little form up and toddled across the table towards the nest she still held in her hands. Hermione brought it down to his level and watched them climb inside.
'Yeh need to keep an eye on that one,' Hagrid said quietly. 'I don't think yeh should release it with the others. It'll take a while to heal that wound, whatever yeh put on it, and its balance will never be the same as the others'. Could wind up doing itself a lot of damage, especially when they start tryin' ter leap about between branches and things.'
'I'll take care of it,' she said. 'I'm sure an imp can put up with Lavender and Pavarti in the same dormitory.'
'What were yeh sayin' before?'
'What has Firenze been saying about me that's not quite the same as Harry and Draco?'
'Not like yeh at all to worry about horoscopes, Hermione,' Hagrid said lightly.
'You said they were good at it…'
Hagrid leaned forward and patted her hand. 'There's nothin' ter worry about. What I heard was, when it comes down ter beating Voldemort, yeh'd be at the start and the boys'll be at the finish. Firenze hasn't mentioned anything about gruesome deaths or whatnot.'
Hermione's hands began to shake. She set the nest down abruptly. '…There's no need to say anything about it…death happens in any war, right?…No need to, to worry…'
Hagrid's eyes went wide as she slumped over, shoulders quaking, howling into her elbow. In a second he was out of his chair and around the other side of the table with his arms wrapped around her.
'Hermione, I didn't mean it like that, not at all—look, here, use my hanky—don' worry, it's clean—'
Harry felt the corners of his eyes burning. He looked away for a second, fighting back the tears; then, feeling acutely awkward, he joined in the hug.
'—I know yeh both miss Ron,' Hagrid went on, quietly; '—And I know yeh miss him in different ways and that I can't know how much yeh've been hurt by all this…but yeh've got ter pick up and carry on, all right? Yeh can't look back. Calm down a little, Hermione…good girl…I know yeh're goin' to make Ron proud one day. A Weasley like him doesn't fall fer just anyone, see? And in the meantime…' Gently, he pushed her back and wiped the last few tears from her eyes. Harry withdrew his arms from around her. 'In the meantime, if yeh ever need a shoulder to cry on, I've got one for each of yeh. Okay?'
They nodded. Hermione looked down at the crumpled purple handkerchief in her hand ruefully. 'I'll get this cleaned before I give it back to you.'
'Don't worry about that. I've got four or five more somewhere around here. Are yeh all right now?'
'Yes.'
'Good. Why don't yeh put the nest back in yer tree now, and go and get yehself cleaned up a bit? Yeh'll feel better for it.'
She gave a wan smile and kissed him on the cheek. 'Thanks, Hagrid.'
'That's all right.' He stood up with them and opened the door. 'Yeh can come down here whenever yeh need to.'
They said their farewells and, once Hermione was sure that the nest was secure in the tree again, began the walk back up to the castle. Hermione sniffed once or twice. Harry looked sidelong at her: hair frizzed from Hagrid's clumsy comforting; face red and blotchy; eyes thoughtful, as always, in spite of it all. He found himself smiling, if a little forlornly.
She looked up. 'What is it?'
'Nothing. You're a mess, that's all.'
She snorted. 'Thanks.'
'Wish I knew how to tease you properly about it.'
'I wouldn't want you to,' Hermione said quietly. 'I don't want you trying to fill in for him, Harry.'
'Sorry.'
'Never mind.'
They entered the castle together.
~~~*~~~
PEARL FIGUREHEAD FOUND!
SABOTAGE CLAIM SUBSTANTIATED!The missing figurehead from the former Minister for Magic's yacht The Pearl was yesterday located in a tidal pool by a young Muggle fisherman.
The fisherman had this to say before his memory was Obliviated: 'It was just like magic! This great wooden thing swimming down there with the fishes! Wait till I tell me mates in the pub!—gnnh—'
The figurehead has since been recovered by the Ministry and examined by a team of wizard experts in magically animated objects. The findings of the group all pointed to direct sabotage.
'There are all sorts of indications that she's been badly tampered with,' said Mr Edmund Rattleby, the team's spokesperson. 'And you can't try to tell me it was just the Minister's kids having a lark, either. The figurehead's still confused, and it takes some strong magic to dent the navigational system on one of these.'
Mr Rattleby confirmed that the spells used were a form of Dark Magic, but said that he and his associates were thus far unable to track the source.
Several ministerial candidates have seized upon the group's findings as evidence of the return of You-Know-Who, demanding that national defence and security be made a top priority and that the Order of Aurors be reinstated. Some have promised outright war should they be elected.
Other candidates claim that their counterparts are no more than scaremongers who aim to score cheap political points from the sketchy initial findings.
Mr Rattleby has said that a full report will be published once the team has concluded their investigations.
With elections to be held in three days' time, many believe the finding of the figurehead could be integral to the final selection of the new Minister.
See page 3 for Ministerial and candidate opinions on this event.
See page 5 for current public opinion polls.
—February 13 2001, The Daily Prophet
Harry passed the paper on to Neville with a sigh. Around them, the clatter of plates and chatter that accompanied a typical Hogwarts lunch rang through the Great Hall. 'Is there anything in there that isn't about the elections?'
'A few Wizard Interest stories, that's all,' Hermione said. 'About time they found the figurehead, though.'
'At least Lucius Malfoy wasn't on the front page today,' Neville said, thumbing through the pages. 'Let's see…he's for war, she's for war, they're not…they're saying nothing like this would have happened if we'd voted them in already…Malfoy's against war; there's a surprise…'
'The less prepared the Ministry is, the easier it'll be for Voldemort to take over,' Seamus nodded, reading over Neville's shoulder. 'Hello, Melchior's doing the same thing. What could that mean?'
'Don't know,' Neville muttered through a sandwich. He swallowed. 'Let's take a look at the polls.'
'You know people are going to be changing their minds right up to the last minute,' Hermione said. 'Who cares who's in front now, as long as it's not Malfoy?'
'We want to see what the candidates are doing to get people to change to them,' Seamus said. 'Malfoy is down, too; that's good…'
'He's rising, though,' Neville said, staring at the changing chart. 'Must have made another speech. Still, Melchior's keeping up with him. I think he's our best chance in this.'
'I don't like him much. Where's what's-his-name…the huge one with the nasty grin. Made everyone laugh at the last meeting.'
'You mean Snape's friend? I can never remember his name. Hang on, they've got photos back on the opinions page…'
Harry leaned over toward Hermione and murmured, 'Just as well you waited until we had the lunch hour before letting them read it. They'll be at this for ages.' She nodded. 'I'm going up to the dormitory, okay?'
'I'll see you later, then.'
Harry spared a glance for the Slytherin table before he left the others to forecasting who was the certain victor of the upcoming election. He made his way quickly through the passageways towards Gryffindor Tower, passing only a few people on his way.
As he went, he pulled a ragged note from his pocket and flicked his eyes over it. He paused for a second and looked about at the corridor he was currently in. He looked back at the piece of paper and then turned from the stairway leading upward from the right, which would usually take him straight up to the dormitory entrance. Instead, Harry headed left, then downward for several flights of stairs, and then through a rapid series of turns that left him wondering where exactly he was and extremely glad he had a map.
At the end of it all, he found himself confronted by an old door hanging from hinges that were more rust than metal. There was a hole where the doorknob ought to have been, through which a feeble shaft of light shone. Harry tucked the map into his pocket, hooked his fingers through it and pulled.
The light in the small room beyond issued from a bare window in the far wall and hung in the air as if it had built up with the dust over centuries; it was blocked only by Draco's figure where he leant against a wall looking out through the window. He turned at the creak and moan of the hinges and smiled at Harry.
'Hello, dear.'
'How do you find these places?' Harry said, stepping inside. He went to the window and peered out; a few feet away the view ended with a wall of stone. Looking downward only led to more stone, but somewhere above he could see a flash of something reflective embedded in the wall—a mirror, crystal or piece of glass; it was impossible to tell which. Harry wondered if he would be able to see a chink of sky if he leaned out far enough.
'I wandered about a lot when I got out of the Hospital Wing.' Draco moved behind him. Harry felt his arms lock about his midsection, and settled back against him.
'Do you know what it's for?'
Draco laughed. 'For all I know it's a glorified broom closet. I think the founders of Hogwarts built rooms like this to confuse people with later on.' His lips brushed Harry's cheek. 'I do know that no one will disturb us here, though.'
'Good.' Harry turned his head, a question on his lips, and ran into a kiss. He barely considered pulling away before his eyes became languid slits and he opened his mouth to Draco's gentle ministrations.
He shivered as Draco's fingers traced random patterns across his stomach and up his sides, and tried to turn around, wanting to be able to touch in the way he was being touched. At some point, though, he stumbled, and after an instant of confusion wound up with his back against the windowsill, leaning at an angle that made him feel bizarrely smaller than he was as Draco looked down at him through the faded light.
'Are you all right?'
The question passed through his ears but got lost on the way to his mind as he became aware of the closeness of their bodies and the way Draco's hands were settled on his hips. One trailed upward over his body to cup his face as Draco bent down for another kiss.
Harry sighed into it, raising his hands to play with Draco's hair. The arm at his hip moved around to support his back and he found himself pressing up against him, craving the heat of his body. A strange yearning welled up in him, all too quickly doused with a sharp wash of fear. He broke away.
Too close…'…Harry?' Draco pulled back, looking confused.
He shook himself. There was something he wanted to know. This was important. 'Draco…the other day—the unicorn…'
'…Is not something I want to talk about right now,' the other boy whispered, pulling him upright.
'Why not?'
'Because I could be kissing you instead.' Draco frowned. 'What's the matter?'
'Do you think you know why it did that?'
Draco sighed. 'There could be all sorts of reasons, Harry. Hagrid said they don't think the way we do.'
'But he said it might have something to do with how you were feeling, too.' Harry traced the white scar scoring Draco's throat with his fingertips. 'I don't want you to keep feeling bad, just because of these.'
Draco took Harry's hand and moved it away from the scar. 'I know.' He squeezed the fingers, and raised a small smile when Harry squeezed back. 'I don't much like it myself.'
'Is that it?' Harry said as he was coaxed into a snug embrace.
'I don't know.' Draco nuzzled his neck. 'I told you, it could be dozens of things.'
'Mm.'
Not wholly satisfied, Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax again. He pressed his lips to Draco's cheek, then sought out his mouth, aware of the seconds spinning away from them. He felt an echo of the need he'd felt a moment ago steal back. A hint of warning came with it, but he overrode that, clenching his fingers at the nape of Draco's neck. They only had a handful of moments left here; he didn't want to waste them.
He whimpered when Draco ended the kiss and stepped away, murmuring, 'We'd better go. People will be wondering where you are.'
Harry nodded, but when Draco opened the door he made no move toward it. Draco looked back at him, bewildered.
'Is something wrong?'
'Not…not really.' He sighed at Draco's raised eyebrow. 'I just wish we didn't have to do this.'
'What do you mean?'
'This…' He waved his hand around at the room. 'All this! Hiding in closets, snatching a few minutes here and there. I…I hate it. I hate lying about where I'm going, and then only to spend a little while with you before the next class, or curfew.'
Draco let the door grind back on its hinges. 'It's all we can do. I thought this was how you wanted it.'
'Not like this. You know, Neville and Ginny hold hands every mealtime? That's all they do, but we couldn't even get away with sitting at the same table.' He kicked at the floor, stirring up the dust. 'I know it's the only way we can keep anyone else from finding out, but…'
'But…?'
'I don't know. I feel as if it wouldn't matter so much if I just had one close friend who didn't mind.'
'You haven't told Hermione.'
Harry shook his head quickly. 'I'm not going to. It…it really wouldn't be fair to her. Not right now. And I don't want to tell anyone else who doesn't already know.' He added, more quietly, 'I wish I knew where Sirius was. I want to see him again.'
'You could ask Dumbledore.'
'If he was going to tell me, he'd have done it by now.'
'Then we're stuck, aren't we?' Draco sighed. He stepped forward and took Harry's hand. 'I'm sorry, Harry, but we have to go now. We can talk about this later.'
And later and later, Harry thought sadly as he followed him out and through the passages until they split up at the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. He headed for the Divinations Tower, digging his hands into his pockets.
His fingers brushed an edge of crinkled paper in his right pocket. He pulled the little map out and stared at it, ignoring the fact that he was late. He could rely on Professor Trelawney to supply his excuse in the form of a belated gloom-laden prediction.
An idea unfolded with the paper.
~~~*~~~
That evening, Harry ate dinner quickly, made his excuses and went from a brisk walk to a jog within seconds of leaving the Great Hall, moving with the speed of faint hope. This time he did turn right up the stairway to Gryffindor Tower. He called out the password to the Fat Lady's portrait as he reached the final step and climbed through the portal as it swung aside. He strode through the empty common room and up into his dormitory.
As soon as the door was closed behind him, he opened his trunk and began to methodically ransack its contents. He hadn't used what he was looking for since the first term, and as a result he knew it would be buried somewhere under the clothes, books and miscellaneous other items that he used every day. After half-emptying the trunk, and several minutes' blind groping, his hand located the roll of parchment he was seeking and pulled it out. He piled everything else back inside and shut the lid, settling on the edge of the bed.
It was an outside chance, he knew, but it was better to have this hope and exhaust it than have none at all. He unrolled the parchment and held the tip of his wand to it.
'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good.'
The Marauder's Map sprang into life. Harry smiled at the greeting of 'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs' and proceeded to scan the map for a dot labelled 'Sirius Black'. He knew by now that the Marauders hadn't been quite as thorough in their Hogwarts cartography as he'd once thought—probably no one would ever find all the rooms and tricks to the castle—but there were still places marked there that he'd never yet been into, and Dumbledore might have put Sirius up in one of them.
He worked from the layout of the top floors down, scanning each of the towers first. None of them yielded anything of help, and nor did any of the upper floors. He noted that Draco had left the Great Hall and was moving about near Chimaera Hall, and that Neville and Ginny were on their way to the tower—they probably wanted some time to themselves in the common room—while the others were still in the Great Hall. He cast his eye further downward, into the dungeons.
And there he was. Not in a room anywhere, but actually moving down a corridor towards the potions classroom and Snape's office. Where—yes—Snape's own dot was hovering. Harry frowned, wondering what was going on and why Sirius was out where students might be able to see him. But then—he might be using his Animagus form, after all. A dog might attract a little attention, but nothing like the panic caused by the face of an escaped murderer.
He folded the map up and left the dormitory and common room, sparing a smile for Neville and Ginny as he passed them going down the stairs. He made his way through the castle, occasionally consulting the Marauder's Map to make sure he didn't lose track of Sirius before he caught up to him.
By the time he got to the dungeons, Sirius had got to Snape's office and the pair of them were moving about there. Sirius seemed to be pacing about while Snape, from what Harry could tell, was facing the cupboard in which he kept his private potions stores.
They were still there when he reached the office, but Sirius had moved to Snape's side of the room. As Harry drew up to the door, he heard their voices through the wood:
'—difficulty in acquiring the necessary ingredients.' That was Snape. 'Another day and I'd have sent it myself, but since you insist on suspecting sabotage—'
'Well, I know you, Snape. You'll destroy anything that matters to me and call it vengeance for a stupid adolescent prank.'
'I hardly think attempted murder can be called a prank,' Snape said, 'Although I agree with the 'stupid adolescent' part of your description.'
'What are you trying to destroy now?' Sirius's tone pulled the hairs on the back of Harry's neck to attention. He wondered whether it would be wiser to leave them to their argument or barge into the room right then.
'What are you talking about?'
'Malfoy told me you helped he and Harry get together.' Harry stiffened, listening intently as his godfather's voice descended into heavy sarcasm and disgust. 'What is this, Snape? More of the bloody vendetta, or are you trying to recreate Harlow and Peters? Just like you to kill two—'
'Shut up!' Harry jumped. 'It has nothing to do with that.'
'You'd never help James Potter's son out of the goodness of your heart. Just how did you help, anyway?' There was a tinkle of glass. 'Slip him something from one of these bottles, did you?'
Harry shook with sudden rage. How stupid does Sirius think I am?
'Leave those alone. I advised him, nothing more.'
'Manipulated him, you mean.'
'No,' Snape sneered. 'I simply did what you ought to have been doing for him for the past fifteen years, except that you got yourself caught and bundled off to Azkaban for murder! And it was about time!'
There was a sudden thud accompanied by the sound of jars rattling dangerously, and somewhere behind that a pained gasp. Harry's hand was on the doorknob instantly; he twisted it, listening to Snape snarl:
'Get your hands off me, Black. Take what you came for and leave before I call Dumbledore.'
The door swung open in silence, and as Harry took in the tableau before him he wished that it had creaked. A small, full potion flask stood on the edge of Snape's desk, simply labelled 'R. L'. Behind the desk, Sirius had Snape by the collar, jammed up against his potions cabinet. Harry realised with a sick feeling that his godfather was at least two inches taller and a good deal stronger than the Potions Master.
Snape's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of him over Sirius's shoulder. 'You really were stupid to come down here at this hour, Black. Anyone could just walk in on us…'
Harry took that as his cue to shut the door.
Sirius stiffened at the sound of the click. He set Snape down and turned around, slowly. He froze when he saw Harry.
'You think I'd let Snape talk me into liking Draco?' Harry said, the rage fading at the look on his godfather's face, leaving him hollow. 'You think I'd swallow one of his potions without knowing what it was?'
'Harry…' Sirius looked like the human shell he'd been two years ago. Harry felt a brief flicker of pity for him. 'Snape…is a monster. He ruins everything…'
'Stuff Snape,' he said. 'No offence meant, sir. This is about me and Draco.' He brandished the map, feeling the anger spring up again. He didn't deserve this. Padfoot was supposed to help him. 'Which, oddly enough, is what I came down here to talk to you about. Why are you looking for someone to blame, Sirius?'
No answer was forthcoming. Harry looked at Snape. 'Would you mind leaving us alone for a moment, please?'
Snape's brow arched. 'You trust him?'
He scowled. 'He's my godfather, sir, and he doesn't have a decades-long grudge against me.'
'The boy has your manners,' the Potions Master muttered before slipping out.
Harry folded his arms, glaring at Sirius. 'I thought you wanted to understand.'
'I can't,' Sirius whispered. 'I can't believe that you've chosen…Malfoy, of all people…to…to…'
'To what?' Harry said sharply. 'What do you think we're doing? Because at the moment it's not much.'
'Good.'
Harry swallowed. 'What's so wrong with it? Why can't anyone I tell just accept it?'
Sirius's lip twisted bitterly. 'Perhaps you'd prefer Snape as a godfather—'
'I think I'd prefer my own dad!' Harry shouted. 'But he's not here, is he? And I don't have a best friend with me either, not anymore, and you know what? He couldn't stand the idea either, but in the end he said it was all right. In the end, he understood.' He took a few deep breaths, forcing the lump back down his throat, watching guilt and indignation flicker across Sirius's face. He stepped forward.
'We met at lunch today; in a poky little room Draco called a glorified broom closet. And we kissed and, yeah, if you'd seen us you'd probably squirm and say boys our age shouldn't be doing that sort of thing, but I bet you used to behave exactly the same way with girls. And we've been meeting in odd little places like that, at stupid times like that, for the past two weeks, Sirius. We're going to keep doing it, regardless of what you think.'
Sirius's face twisted again, more with pain than bitterness this time. 'And Malfoy tried to convince me he was interested in something more than sex.'
'His name's Draco!' Harry snapped. 'Bloody well use it, and don't you dare try to tell me he's looking for an easy screw—'
'Watch your tongue!'
'—That's not something I'm prepared to give.' He swallowed again. 'Tell me you had more faith in me than that.'
Sirius licked his lips. 'Harry, you don't know how manipulative the Malfoy clan is. And if Snape's in on it too...he's done them so many favours in the past, you have no idea...' He shook his head. 'I'm sorry I haven't been around for you, but you don't have to do this. I don't like the idea of you being alone with him. I certainly don't want you behaving that way, giving him ideas...'
'We probably wouldn't even act like that except that we only get a few moments at a time together! I happen to like the idea of just holding hands or knowing that he's nearby, but we can't do that because then, Sirius, someone like you would see, and the whole school would be against us because Harry Potter happens to have a boyfriend.' He paused. Sirius looked shaken, but Harry didn't wait for him to open his mouth and say what he was really thinking. 'I probably wouldn't even care about that so much, except that I don't have a father or a best friend or anyone like that to talk to about it. Apparently I don't have a godfather either.'
Sirius went rigid. 'What are you saying?'
Harry shrugged, and winced as his voice quavered when he spoke. 'I-I want to come out. I don't want to have to keep hiding what I'm doing with Draco, but to do that, I…God, I need you, Sirius. I need your help so much. But you're not helping at all, you're not trying at all, you're just making yourself part of the problem. So what's the point?' He made the mistake of appealing one last time. 'Can't you forget whatever you thought about David and Morgan and just let us be?'
Sirius just stared at him and shook his head. 'Not now.'
He plucked Remus's potion from the desk and moved to leave, but Harry caught his arm as he passed by. 'At least tell me where you're staying. I'm sick of knowing you're in the castle somewhere but still having to use owl mail when I want to talk to you.'
'Third floor, near your tower. There's a black statue guarding the door. You can use the map if you need the password.'
He pulled away, and Harry watched him go. After a moment Snape re-entered the room, looking tense.
'Very eloquent, Potter.'
'Oh, shut up,' Harry muttered, kneading his forehead. 'As if you care.'
'As a matter of fact, I do care about what happens to Draco. Therefore, while you are with him, I care about what happens to you.' Harry heard the potions cabinet's door being opened, and the chink of a jar being singled out from among the others. 'Do you want—?'
'No. I mean, thanks. I just want to get to sleep. Good night.'
He wandered out before Snape could reply.
~~~*~~~
After looming for three days more, the morning of the elections dawned. From the moment the sun's light touched Hogwarts castle, the school seemed to be bound up in a knot of tension.
Breakfast was an unusually quiet affair; even the first and second years, who ought to have been relatively oblivious to the importance of what was happening, seemed to have caught on. When Hermione's owl dropped the Daily Prophet into her lap she stuffed the paper into her bag without even glancing at the headline, and no more was said about it.
As the meal ended and students began to file out, an unfamiliar voice filtered through the air, magically amplified and irritatingly detached. It announced that all eligible citizens would now be able to place their vote at the nearest convenient polling booth, followed by a list of the areas at which such places were available. The voice followed the students down through the corridors, buzzing in their ears the entire way to class, and abruptly ended after mentioning that updates on the election's progress would be made each half hour.
One such update during the morning's potions class, relating Lucius Malfoy's clear initial lead, resulted in Neville exploding an attempt that had, for once, been behaving the way it was supposed to. To Snape's credit, no points were deducted—he merely threatened detention if Longbottom didn't have the mess cleared up within five minutes.
Teachers disappeared sporadically through the day in order to vote: Profesor Binns stepped in halfway through Transfigurations so that Professor McGonagall could do so, and at lunch Harry heard from a white-faced Ginny that Peeves had spent half an hour 'covering' for Trelawney in the fourth-year Divinations class. Hermione reported that Dumbledore, while an absolute genius in some areas, was appalling at Arithmancy, and the class had wound up playing a more complex version of naughts-and-crosses to pass the time.
Through all the chaos and minor crises it was causing in the castle, the voice returned again and again with splices of news that, put together, sounded like a bizarre horserace commentary as the candidates vied for domination. The name of Malfoy was barely ever absent from the reports; Harry supposed that he had done the best at getting people to change their minds to him. There was a period around the middle of the day during which Snape's friend seemed as if he were about to take over, which made Seamus somewhat smug, until a witch who had nothing to do with either the Order or the Death Eaters streaked ahead of both and remained in the lead for one and a half hours. She was later deposed consecutively by Malfoy and Melchior and not mentioned again.
All in all, it was with great relief that the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins spilled out of the castle and into the grounds for their final Care of Magical Creatures class with the imps that afternoon.
Hagrid was waiting for them, smoking pipe in one hand and umbrella in the other, and with Fang at his side. He pulled the pipe from his mouth as they reached the imps' evergreen forest.
'We'll be headin' into the Forbidden Forest today ter let the imps go,' he said. 'Don't worry, it won't be far in, and Fang's only with us at the moment 'cos he was getting' the jitters staying inside with that ruddy voice goin' off all the time. There's been no more trouble with anything from the Forest and I've already told Firenze we're goin' in. So…yeh'd all better say goodbye to yer imps now, as it'll probably be the last time yeh see any of 'em.'
There were fewer surreptitious grins or gleeful looks than Harry had expected to see at the prospect of finally releasing the little monsters. The class fanned out and bittersweet farewells began to be made.
Harry caught his imp fairly easily; it seemed to sense that something was up and fought less than it usually would to escape from his hand. Hermione's, guarding the babies in the nest, was a little trickier. Between them Harry and Hermione had five sore fingers by the time they managed to wrestle her out, but she calmed down once she was perched on Hermione's shoulder and could see that nothing was going to happen to harm the nest while she was absent.
'What do you think,' Harry said, trying to get his earlobe out of the reach of his imp's teeth; 'Are we going to miss them?'
'I don't know,' Hermione said. Harry's hand shot out automatically to stop her imp leaping from her shoulder in a panic as she put her hand into the nest. It settled down again when she drew out the imp that possessed only one forepaw. She watched it wobble its way up her arm to its mother. 'I know there's at least one I'm not going to get out of my hair.'
'Are you going to name it?' Harry gave up on escaping from this with his ear intact and let his imp have its nibble.
'If you suggest anything like Stumpy, Harry, I swear I'll—'
'You've been thinking about it, then,' he grinned.
'A little bit. Haven't really thought of anything yet.'
'You're not worried about Crookshanks getting to it?'
'Crookshanks knew better than to go for Scabbers,' she said. 'He'll know better than to go for my imp, as well.'
'Mm.' Harry turned away a little, pulling the imp from his ear. He held it between his fingers, and tried to think of something suitable to say. 'Well…I was right about you being an awful parent. You could help mum in the nest every now and again, you know.' The imp, finding itself in a position where it was unable to cause any substantial amount of pain without a likelihood of being thrown hard enough to incur some itself, responded by blowing a loud raspberry. Harry wrinkled his nose. 'Ratbag. If I hear anything about imps causing trouble in the Forest, you're going to be hearing a lot from me, right? Yeah. Apart from that, though, I guess you haven't been too bad.' He pursed his lips. 'You'll probably forget I even exist after a few days in there, won't you? Still…if you do remember, and you ever see me about, I suppose you could come down and make yourself known. If you wanted to. Just don't bite anything too hard.'
That was answered by a wicked grin. Harry rolled his eyes, and looked about at some of the others. Seamus seemed to be having a heart-to-heart with his imp; Dean's was playing some sort of game with him. Neville didn't seem to have found his, but was bidding farewell to the tree nevertheless.
Across the way, Draco sat at an angle to his tree, looking put-upon as he waved goodbye with both hands. An imp swung from the index finger of each one. Harry turned away, suppressing a grin.
Hagrid called out for the nests to be dislodged from their trees and for final checks to be made that all of the babies were inside.
As its nest was lifted from the branches, Hermione's imp scuttled inside, looking back out with wide, mistrusting eyes. Harry's was content to ride on his shoulder, nattering at the crippled imp, which had stayed where it was, although it whined occasionally for its mother.
There were a few brief panics as double-checks failed to turn up the correct number, but eventually everything tallied up and they trooped into the Forbidden Forest behind Hagrid and Fang, keeping closer to one another the further in among the ancient trees they went.
Hagrid stopped in a small clearing that was, as he'd said, not too far into the forest, although it was far enough to make most of the class nervous, especially when the wind whispered through the trees above them. Hagrid sat down on a stump in the middle of the space, with Fang beside him.
'Well, this is it. Say whatever farewells yeh didn't get done before and then put the nests on a branch; nothing too low. Don't worry if yeh can't find a way to get it settled down firmly or if it's a little bit broken; they'll probably pile out and find somewhere higher up to build new ones after a little bit anyway. Now—'
Fang growled at a rustling among the bushes to the left, causing a stir among some of the more nervous students. In a second, Hagrid was on his feet, umbrella trained on the spot.
'Whatever's there, come ou—' he squinted, and then lowered the umbrella with an exasperated huff. 'Fer heaven's sake, Harper, yeh're supposed to be in class. Got yer N.E.W.T.s comin' up, yeh know.'
'The Bloody Baron dismissed us,' Harper said, emerging from between the trees. He strode up, pausing to scratch Fang behind the ears. The dog's tail thumped on the ground, churning snow. 'He was really at a loss trying to teach seventh-year charms. I suppose it didn't help that there were no Slytherins in the class and the Ravenclaws kept correcting him.'
'No, I suppose it didn't.' Hagrid folded his arms. 'Everyone, this is Kieran Harper. You Gryffindors probably know him, but the Slytherins might not. Yeh'll probably see him about here a bit while we're workin' with the forest creatures, although not while he's got important classes to be in, I hope.'
Harper merely looked at him, face sardonically blank.
'All right, everyone, get to work. This shouldn't take too long.' Harry heard Hagrid add, not quite in an undertone, 'Whereabouts is Firenze, then, Harper?'
'Nearby, a bit to the west. Why do you ask?'
'He always seems to be about when yeh are.' Hagrid sat back down. 'Don't suppose he's got anythin' ter say about the outcome of these elections?'
'He did say that Mars was extremely bright last night.'
The half-giant grunted. 'Centaurs say that sort of thing a lot.'
'Yes, they're wondering when someone will start paying attention.'
Hagrid's head snapped up at that, but Harper's attention was already elsewhere. Harry watched him wander off to mingle with the rest of the class without so much as looking back.
'Something wrong?' Hermione waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked.
'No, not really. I just don't like him, that's all.'
'Harper?' She followed his gaze. 'No, I don't know many people who actually do like him. No one who really knows much about him, even.'
'You've asked?'
'After the last meeting, yes. I didn't trust the way he just turned up in his Death Eater robes and turned out to be a friend.'
'No, nor did I.'
Hermione hefted the nest. 'I suppose we'd better get on with this, then. I've finished with mine; do you have anything else to say to yours?'
'I think I got it all out before we came in here. Shall we?'
They walked around the edges of the clearing for a little while looking for a suitable branch that wasn't already occupied by a nest. Harry tried to keep one eye on Harper, but he seemed to have disappeared somewhere.
'Here.' Hermione stopped and pointed overhead. Harry looked up at a broad branch above him, crisscrossed by boughs from the trees behind. 'We can wedge it between those two and it won't have a chance of falling down. Even if they're not going to be staying much longer in this nest, I'd like it to be safe while they are.'
Harry nodded. It was a stretch, but he found that he was just tall enough to reach the branches Hermione had been pointing out if he stood on his tiptoes. After a little careful fumbling, the nest was in place. He rocked back on his heels and looked up at it critically. 'Bit wonky.'
'It'll do. But—Harry—are you forgetting something?'
He shot her a blank look.
'The father.'
'What? Oh.' He plucked the imp from his shoulder and sent it flying upward with a well-aimed toss. It grasped a knothole in the branch as it went sailing by and scrambled up to the nest, jabbering insults at him.
'Miss you too.'
The crippled baby watched its father disappear into the nest and gave a shriek. It suddenly propelled itself upwards from Hermione's shoulder, left forepaw outstretched toward the branch.
Hermione's hands flashed out with uncharacteristic speed to catch it as it began to fall downward. She held it tight, rocking it gently as it began to cry. 'Sorry, little one. Not you.'
'Maybe when it's a bit older and it knows how to get about without falling over every third step,' Harry said.
'Yes, but maybe never. Poor thing.'
Hermione continued to nurse it until it quietened. She put it on her shoulder, whereupon it grabbed at a stray lock of her hair and proceeded to make a little nest for itself.
Shortly afterward, Hagrid called for everyone to begin moving out of the forest again. He herded the class ahead of him, umbrella hooked in his belt, while Fang ran alongside him, growling half-heartedly when things moved in the undergrowth around them.
Harry caught sight of a familiar face glancing about ahead of him, and realised that Harper had materialised again. He watched him move through the crowd of students, weaving about until he reached Draco's side. Draco glared at him and moved away; Harper followed.
The pattern continued, until they reached Hagrid's hut and the class was dismissed. Abruptly, Harper broke away from the group, while Draco was the first to pass through the castle entrance. Harry frowned, and tried to follow, but he'd disappeared down a side passage before he could catch up. Shrugging, he turned away and went with Hermione up to the dormitory.
The voice made its final intrusion in the middle of dinner. The Hall went silent as it delivered its most important announcement:
'Kenneth Melchior has been elected for the position of Minister for Magic in Great Britain.'
The statement seemed somehow anticlimactic. There was still an air of expectancy in the room, only minutely dispelled by Seamus as he slouched back in his chair, muttering that the public hadn't known a good thing when they saw it.
There was a loud crackle, as if a wave of electricity had passed through the air, and a new voice began to speak. Harry recognised it as Melchior's.
'I wish to thank the citizens of the magical community for their trust in me,' Melchior said, sounding somewhat frazzled in spite of the words. Thinking of all the reporters who would be crowding around him at the moment, Harry found he couldn't blame the man. 'I will not betray it. My first priority is the safety and strength of our people.' There was a pause. 'I did, of course, have a speech prepared for this moment, but the palm cards scattered when Mr Edmund Rattleby and his associates released their report on the sabotaged figurehead from The Pearl a half hour ago. I have already read through it, and there is some highly disturbing information held in those pages.
'Ladies and gentlemen, I didn't believe it was possible, but Voldemort is very much at large. We have no choice but to meet him head-on if we wish to avert the catastrophe of fifteen years ago. To that end, from this moment onward, I declare Britain to be at war.'
Commotion erupted. It didn't matter that the voice was still speaking; all four student tables were a rabble of heated conversations and arguments.
Seamus sat upright again, roaring, 'What? But he said he wasn't going to do that!'
'Haven't you said we ought to be doing something like this?' Hermione shouted over the din. 'No more spying, no more trying to guess what You-Know-Who's going to do next, no more trying to pretend nothing's wrong!'
Harry glanced at the staff table. Dumbledore and McGonagall were nodding at each other. Trelawney looked as smug as if she'd just made an accurate prediction. Snape simply looked bored.
Not completely unexpected, then, he thought.
He looked over at the Slytherin table and caught Draco's eye. The other boy's gaze scooted over to the doorway and back at Harry. He nodded.
'I'd say it's about time,' he said, watching Draco get up and leave from the corner of his eye. 'At least now we'll have the Aurors helping us. And look over at the teachers for a moment. They're not so surprised.'
Muttering an excuse to Hermione, he got to his feet and left the Great Hall. Draco was waiting for him outside. He beckoned and Harry fell into step beside him as he paced away down the passage.
'Where are we going?'
'Entrance. No one will be interested in going outside at this time of night. What do you think of it?'
Harry shrugged. 'It was going to come eventually. I'm a bit surprised that he declared war from the outset, though, especially since he was one of the ones saying he was against it.'
Draco smiled; it wasn't a particularly nice one. 'Lucius always said promises were just lies to give other people hope.'
Harry took his hand. 'Don't say things like that.'
Draco looked at him and his eyes softened. 'I didn't say I agreed with him.'
Harry squeezed his hand and kissed him, loving the answering pressure on his fingers.
'Shadows alone aren't good hiding places.' They jumped apart. Harper, a little way behind them, stepped forward on silent feet, darkness melting from his form as he moved into the light of a lamp. 'Unless, of course, you intend on shortly coming out of them. Perhaps you ought to get to where you're going before—'
'Go away, Harper,' Draco growled. Harry felt his arm go about his shoulders. 'Leave us alone.'
'Alone?' There was something faintly barbed in his tone, and Harry was aware of Draco going tense in response to it. He scowled.
'Get away.'
The seventh year didn't so much as take his eyes from Draco's face. 'Firenze has a message for you.'
'What?' Draco bit out.
Harper leant forward, a small smile upon his lips, and murmured, 'You're not out of the woods yet.'