Harry walked into the Great Hall slowly, and stopped for a moment to take everything in. Everyone had come back now; Harry had almost forgotten how many people were at the school. How many lives and minds went into the different classrooms each day, full of eagerness to learn, and determination to learn as much as they could. Harry pictured each common room as it was every night. Friends talking about what they'd done and learned that day, what they were going to do that weekend, who they thought was going to win the next Quidditch match. A great sadness overcame Harry; if Voldemort won, if he took over everything, took over the magical world, all these things that Harry loved about Hogwarts would die. Sure, as a seventh year he had almost finished school anyway, but what about the first years? What about the first years, who had just come back from their first Christmases they'd had to go home to, to be with their families? Who hadn't taken an end of year test yet? Who probably hadn't quite got the hang of flying yet, or even doing any kind of hard spell?

            Harry looked over at the teachers table. Dumbledore was just sitting down in his grand chair in the middle, and Snape and Remus were sitting either side, already sat. Obviously Sirius must have been invited to sit with them as well, for he was sitting on the other side of Remus, and they were both discussing something which was obviously very distressing, from the distant looks on their faces. Dumbledore and Snape weren't talking, but one moment, they looked at each other, and Dumbledore shook his head in worry, and turned away. At that moment he saw Harry, standing in the doorway with hoards of people coming past him to sit down. The two looked at each other a moment, before Harry broke the saddened gaze and walked over to his table to sit by his friends.

            "So…Ron," Harry started. "Uh…so, any ideas on how to improve the team? Any…ideas for the chasers, for this Saturday? Or…anything?" Harry suddenly felt stupid at his failed try to start up a conversation.

But much to his delight, Ron smiled. It was the first time Harry had talked in almost three days. He grinned, "Nope, none at all, after all, you're the captain!" Harry laughed. "You're the one who's supposed to be coming up with the good ideas!"

            "Good point!" Harry said laughing. He refused to think any more about Voldemort or Cassandra or Hermione until after dinner, until he could no longer put it off and would have to go speak with Dumbledore.

            All of Harry's friends made a point to talk to him that evening; they all knew (or thought they knew) how painful his throat had been, how painful it must have been if Ron had said he hadn't been able to speak for a few days. Harry grinned and joined in the talk and laughter from everyone, and realised with a deepened sorrow how much he would miss them all if he…if he died.

            After dinner, Dumbledore rose up to make an announcement, which was quite strange, as he usually made any announcements before dinner. "Just a few things," he started, after he had got everyone's full attention. "Firstly, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and welcome you back. The New Year's Ball that Harry Potter and Rebekah Pigsneth so kindly set up for all years, will take place tomorrow evening. I do hope you all have fun, and wish you all a Happy New Year." The smile that had lit Dumbledore's face up during this last announcement faded quite suddenly. He brought it up again, and only Harry knew how fake it was. He could see that the twinkle that usually accompanied such a smile had disappeared from Dumbledore's sorrowful eyes.

            "And now onto the bad news," he said. A few murmurs flew around the room, but they soon died down, as everyone was curious and anxious to hear what was going on. "Two deaths have occurred during the last term of this school. I'm sure we all miss Colin Creevey and Martha Jelton terribly, may they rest in peace. It was discussed that this school should close down…" An uproar of protests sounded, everyone feeling angry that the school should have to close, but Dumbledore raised a hand and everyone stopped speaking, waiting to hear more. "But," Dumbledore said, "we have decided that this would not be the best course of actions for the students." Although nothing was said, you could feel the air was now less tensed in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore continued. "But the fact remains that two students have been killed. We have some new rules that we would like you to follow, for your own safety. One, students are only allowed outside the castle when accompanied by a prefect or a teacher. If you are going outside to go to your lessons, please make sure you are in groups. Two, no one is allowed out of their common rooms after 9pm. Now I know this rule is already in place, but I do realise that it is not always taken seriously and has been broken a number of times." A few Griffindors laughed quietly and Ron grinned at Harry, and Harry grinned feebly back. This was no joke, however anyone took it. "The last and final rule is more of a helpful tip and warning than a rule. Please, from now on until I notify you otherwise, do not go anywhere on your own. Prefects are allowed, but I must stress the importance and seriousness of this matter. I do not want anymore blood spilled on Hogwarts grounds. Look after yourselves. Now, does everyone understand?" A few heads nodded, most understand but some scared and fragile.

Harry looked around at his table. All the first and second years looked terrified. Dumbledore's speech hadn't exactly been soothing or comforting. But Harry did understand that he needed to get through to everyone, for their own safety. At least Dumbledore hadn't told them about Voldemort. Harry looked up at Dumbledore then, and Dumbledore caught his eye, with a look that said, "come and see me". Harry nodded in reply, and Dumbledore sat back down, signalling to everyone that they could leave. Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville got up to leave and waited for Harry to rise.

"No, that's ok," said Harry. "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

"But didn't Dumbledore say we should be in groups?" Neville said, looking around him nervously.

"Yeah, I just want to talk to Dumbledore about something. I'll be fine." Harry looked to Ron who nodded and herded the gang off. Harry stood and walked somewhat shakily to the teacher's table. Only Snape, Dumbledore, Remus and Sirius sat there now. The rest had gone. Dumbledore nodded to Harry in acknowledgment. "So," Harry said. "What's the plan?"

Harry leaned back in his chair. He was in Dumbledore's office. Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher had just explained to him everything that they had all discussed over the past two weeks. Harry felt empty inside. How could they expect him to do that? He did see how it was the only way. Simple enough. So simple that Voldemort wouldn't know or suspect. Surely they all knew how he felt about Cassandra.

            "Harry?" Arabella's warm voice floated over all of Harry's negative and confused thoughts. He looked up at her. "Do you understand?"

            "Don't treat me like a child," Harry said quickly in a quiet voice.

            Arabella smiled down on him gently. "Of course. I apologise. It is simple enough. But do you think it's a good idea? Can you do it?"

            Harry sighed and looked around at the faces imposing on him. In fact, the only face that wasn't staring hard into his eyes was Snape's. Snape was staring at the floor purposely. "Only," Harry started, "if Professor Snape thinks I can do it."

            At the mention of his name, Snape looked up sharply. Harry didn't bother to look around at any confused faces which might be looking between himself and Snape at that moment, but instead deep into Snape's eyes. "Professor?" Snape didn't answer. Harry sighed. "Look, professor, in all due respect, we haven't exactly gotten on over the years now have we?" Snape grunted in amusement. "Yeah, you're not exactly my favourite person either," Harry said bravely, not particularly bothered on what affect this would take on Snape or Dumbledore. "But if you think this is a good plan, if you think I can do this, then I will."

            Snape looked at Dumbledore, and around at the other people surrounding him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not liking all the hot attention he was getting. "Well," he said croakily, and coughed to clear his voice. He looked deep into Harry's eyes, as if summing his least favourite student up. "Yes," he said eventually. "As much as you and I know I hate to admit this…" he said smiling wryly, "you can do this. You are certainly brave enough to stand up to Voldemort when the time comes, and certainly powerful enough as we all know…" He haltered. "One thing does bother me, though."

            He turned at this point to Dumbledore, who motioned him to go on. Snape looked a bit uncomfortable, and Harry wondered if he should have asked for his opinion or not. "Harry, I'm not doubting your skills as a wizard. But if there's one thing you will fail in here, it's whether you can lie to Cassandra or not." A deep silence filled the already tensed room. Harry knew that Snape was right. He loved Cassandra – or at least, he thought he did. But she was Voldemort's daughter. Surely that would enable Harry with enough hatred to lie to her?

            "Yeah," Harry said feebly. "You're right. I certainly wouldn't have been able to before I found out she was Voldemort's daughter." He said this with a sudden anger, and almost spat out Voldemort's name. "But I think I will manage it. Just." He said this wryly, knowing that everyone knew of his dark hatred of the man who had killed his parents, killed Hermione, killed so many people.

            Dumbledore stood, ending the meeting. "Good. Then it has been decided. Harry, go on as you would have done before all this and tell me if anything new happens. Mundungus and Arabella, if you will, I ask you to continue trying to locate Lord Voldemort's hide out, and the rest of you, keep an eye on Harry and Cassandra, and help out in any ways you can. Harry, stay behind a moment, if you will."

            The others stood up and left the office silently. Harry leaned forward in his chair and waited for Dumbledore to express whatever worries or feelings he had. "Harry, I'll get straight to the point. Be careful. I know how your heart works, believe me; I've kept a close eye over you for the past seventeen years, and I know. Do not let yourself be carried away by whatever feelings you may have for Cassandra. Remember, it is all fake, all an illusion. Be careful." Harry nodded slowly. He stood up without saying a word and left Dumbledore's office.

            As Harry reached the bottom of the stairs he stepped out and the statue of the witch closed behind him. As it did, a voice sounded next to him. Harry turned, startled, to find he godfather leaning casually against a wall. Harry grinned. "You frightened me."

            "Good," replied Sirius, grinning. He stood properly and walked up to Harry. "Thought I'd walk with you to your common room." Harry moaned and Sirius laughed. "Harry, you do know that you're the one who needs protected most, right?"

            "I thought I was old enough to protect myself, thanks!" Harry said smiling. "Besides, Voldemort won't kill me till I go to him. Isn't that what it said on the mirror?"

            Sirius was silent. He looked thoughtful, and Harry decided to wait and let him gather his thoughts. "Harry, are you sure you wanna do this?"

            Harry sighed. "Yes, unfortunately." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Well, I do want to, and I don't want to. But none of that stuff really matters does it? The fact is, I'm going to do this. I kind of have to, don't I?"

            "No, of course you don't have to!" Sirius protested. "You don't have to! I never went along with this stupid plan. I told them, you're still in school, you shouldn't be used as bait, or whatever you wanna call it, for that son of a bitch." Sirius spat on the floor in anger. Harry was shocked; he didn't think he'd ever seen his godfather this angry before. Apart from maybe when they'd had Peter in the palms of their hands, and Harry had told Sirius to let Peter go, because everyone deserved a chance.

            "I wish I'd never told you to let him go," Harry said aloud, not fully explaining his thoughts.

            Sirius understood, though. He'd probably been thinking the same thing. He sighed. "Me too. But it was your decision, I guess. And in your position, I probably would have done the same thing." There was a long silence in which both were gathering their thoughts together. It was Sirius who broke the silence. "I loved your parents so goddamn much, Harry," he said. "I know how you feel – or part of it, anyway. It does seem a shame not to just get revenge when it's being handed to us on a silver plate, but I want you to think it over. Is this what Lily and James would have said?"

            Harry was about to answer when Sirius shouted aloud in anger. "For Godric's sake, of course it's what they would've wanted. They hated him as well. Who wouldn't? He was going after them and wanted to kill James and Harry; I mean, who wouldn't have hated their killer?" Sirius seemed to be talking to himself rather than Harry, who decided to let his godfather ramble, and not interrupt. "They would've said, "Harry, make us proud. Be the hero, blah blah blah." It's so stupid. I hate this." Sirius' voice had dropped to quiet, and now, head hung down to his chest, he stopped walking, frowning. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in and out. "It's been sixteen years," he said even quieter, if that was possible. "And look at me." He looked up at Harry and laughed. "I'm still getting upset over it! Shit…"

            They continued walking; Harry was silent still, as he was still taking in everything his Godfather just said. "Harry," Sirius said, starting again in normal tones. "I've always told you to be careful, always told you that James and Lily sacrificed their lives for you, so you should be careful with it. But I don't know. What do you think they would say if they could see us today?"

            Harry shook his head softly. "I don't know, Sirius. You knew them better than I did."

            Sirius smiled. "True," he said. "I hate to sound like a grandfather but those were the good old days!" Harry laughed. "Me, your father, Remus, Lily…Peter…" Sirius shrugged off the new and common feeling of anger towards his old best friend. "But no, those were good days. You have many friends, Harry?"

            Harry looked ahead of him. "Well, yeah. There's Ron, of course." Sirius shook his head in acknowledgement; he remembered Ron. "And… Oh, I don't know anymore. It used to be me, Ron and Hermione, and then everyone else out in the crowd. And now…" Harry faltered and stopped. "I don't know who my friends are anymore."

            Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. They walked on for a bit like that, in composed silence, before Sirius remembered something and spoke of it. "Hey, you've got a Quidditch game this Saturday, right?" Harry nodded. "Well I've never seen you in a game before, I'll come and watch." Harry beamed. Sirius was like a father to him; it meant a lot that he was going to be there. "Are you looking forward to it?"

            Harry nodded and grinned. "Yeah. There's something I've been wanting to settle something with a certain Malfoy." He laughed to himself, but then saw Sirius' warning stare and laughed aloud. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill him! We had a fight a few weeks ago, something about him thinking I was messing around with Cassandra-"

            "Which was partially right, was it not?" Sirius cut it.

            "Shut up," Harry said smiling. "So anyway, I haven't seen him yet. I'm guessing the game will settle things between us. Well, at least put things back to where we were before."

            Then something occurred to Harry. "Sirius, do you think I should tell Malfoy that Cassandra is Voldemort's daughter?"

            Sirius thought for a moment. "Tell Draco? I dunno. His father's a death eater, right? Well then perhaps he already knows." Harry nodded. Yeah, probably. "But I'd ask Dumbledore first if you do decide to tell him."

            Harry nodded. Draco probably already knew. But what if he didn't? Should he tell him? Harry felt like a great moral compass was hanging over his head then. Assuming Draco didn't know… Harry didn't want to tell him, didn't think he deserved to know. He was as evil as his father and the rest of them, anyway. But if he didn't know, then that meant his father hadn't told him. There must have been a reason for that…

a/n: ok, kinda shoddy chapter, I apologise – not much happening here. But next chapter should be better. Next chapter is the ball, which is, as always, intriguamafying! (not sure what intriguamafying means? I'll tell you why – I MADE IT UP! You might wanna go look up the meaning for "intriguing" though, for those of you who don't know!)

gimme a review and I'll upload the next chapter more quickly!

~rowanx

(ps, please go read my hp story "truth" – crappy title, apologies – it's about how severus turned baad.)