CHAPTER VII

The first day of classes had always been a fun experience. As it turned out, they had double Potions with the Slytherins first thing after breakfast, but Potions wasn't the same class it had been previously.

Professor Guilleminot, or Professor Jeanne as she suggested everyone call her when no one could pronounce her last name, was good-natured and intelligent, with no tolerance for rudeness, rule-breaking or insolence. Therefore, when Draco Malfoy walked confidently into class 3 minutes late, she took 25 points from Slytherin and gave him detention.

The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully except for a headache that grew steadily in Harry's temples. By the beginning of Defense Against the Dark Arts (their last period of the day) Harry's forehead was pounding. He slumped moodily into his seat and put his head down on the table. In the middle of attendance Harry stoop up very abruptly, gritting his teeth, his eyes watering, one palm pressed tightly to his scar. Everyone looked at him curiously, including Professor Mackintock. He pressed his back to the wall and leaned forward.

"Somebody get Dumbledore!" he croaked with difficulty. "Something bad's about to happen."

Professor Mackintock, realizing who he was, had the presence of mind to point her wand and the fire and shout Dumbledore's name. The old man stepped out of the fireplace seconds later and rushed to where Harry sat in a heap on the floor, but as he did so, Harry stood up quickly.

"Hogsmead" said Harry hoarsely. Pulling out his wand, he summoned his Hydraskin cloak and disapparated.

***

Dumbledore did a quick spell.

"ATTENTION ALL TEACHERS AND STUDENTS," his voice resonated through every gap and space, "DEATH EATERS ARE ATTACKING HOGSMEAD. ALL STUDENTS GO IMMEDIATELY TO THE GREAT HALL, ALL TEACHERS SWEEP THE HALLS IN YOUR VICINTY THEN REPORT TO THE STAFF ROOM. DO NOT PANIC."

There were yells of fright and confusion, but the students managed to successfully make it to the great hall in very short time. The word quickly spread of Harry's display, and how he had miraculously apparated out of Hogwarts. Upon hearing the story, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other in horror. Ron looked muttered something about stealing Harry's firebolt and flying to Hogsmead to aid his friend, but as he spoke the Great Hall doors closed and locked themselves. Teachers would occasionally walk in to check on them through a back door, but no one came to give any explanations. Eventually Professor McGonagall conjured up sleeping bags and declared lights out. Harry still wasn't back.

***

Harry had been fighting for what seemed like hours. He slammed his fist into a black hooded face and ducked a crutacious curse, rolling on dirt damp with blood. He came up, placing a roundhouse kick in a deatheater's stomach and sending three disarming curses in different direction. He banished the deatheater with a wandless charm and jumped high in the air, tucking into a ball and then landing feet first on another black cloaked figure.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the deatheaters vanished, leaving nothing but smoking ruin at the lower end of the town: the residential area. Harry had guessed that they would try to leave sometime soon. It was one of those pointless hit and run attacks, meant only to inspire terror and strike fear into the hearts of anyone who heard about it. He kicked a splinter of wood angrily, it skittered away from him and hit rock. Wiping some muck off his cheek he spat out a little blood. Just then, a scream came from a burning house near him. Harry's stomach dropped as he ran inside. Flipping up the collar of his trench coat, (which he had discovered was fire proof), he lifted his arm to protect his face and slammed through a smoldering door to the room inside. A young woman lay trapped under a beam that (luckily) wasn't burning. Her arm was stretched out towards her baby, who lay wailing, just out of her reach.

"Save my baby!" she shouted at him, "This beam is too heavy to lift with magic, don't worry about me just get him out of here!" she coughed violently. Harry picked up the crying infant and tucked the poor thing inside his coat. With one hand supporting the baby, he spread his fingers and reached his hand out. He bit his lip, concentrating. Slowly, the huge piece of wood shifted, and then flew quickly away and landed heavily in the corner of the room. The woman, who's leg appeared broken at the femur, screamed in pain as the feeling rushed back to her limb. Harry splinted her leg using a slab of wood and some magic, and cast the strongest pain relief charm he knew. She sighed and fell into a demi-concious stupor, from the shock. Harry strapped the baby safely to his mother with as ling of scrap cloth tied around her neck., then hoisted the woman up, one arm under her knees, the other under her under her arms. Her head lolled on his chest. He jogged out of the house as it began to collapse and slowed when he hit the middle of town. By this time aurors had arrived at the scene. They all looked up as the strange young man carrying a woman and a baby, stepped through the burning ruins as stopped in front of them. He shook his hair out of his face and most caught a glimpse of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

"Can anyone here conjure a portkey to Hogwarts for me?" he asked. "My hands are kind of full."

One man stepped forward. He reached out and tucked an object in Harry's front pocket.

"That'll activate in a sec" he said, "we can take her for you Mr. Potter."

Harry shook his head, surprised that they had recognized him so quickly. "I'll bring her to the hospital wing. Madam Pompfrey is as capable as anyone at St. Mungos."

He nodded to them and was portkeyed away promptly.

***

Almost everyone looked up from their sleeping bags as they saw a dirty, grimy, blood covered Harry appear in the great hall carrying an unconscious woman, and a sniffling baby. He stalked past them and the locked doors of the great hall blasted open in front of him as he headed towards the hospital wing. Professors' Mcgonagall, Guilleminot and Dumbledore converged on him as he went. When they entered the hospital wing, Harry laid the woman down on a bed and Madam Pompfrey came rushing over.

"She's got a broken femur, a possible concussion, and serious shock symptoms." Said Harry in a cracked voice.

Madam Pompfrey nodded and went to work. Dumbledore stepped forward, but Harry shook his head.

"I'll discuss it later," he said. "I'm going back to help the aurors with clean up and searches."

Dumbledore looked at the filthy, bedraggled, dead-tired boy. He glared at Harry with authority and insisted Harry go to sleep, saying the aurors knew how to do their own jobs. Harry's eyes went hard.

"Dumbledore, not one of the aurors down there is going to be able to find trapped victims better than me, you can give me detention, suspend me, I. Don't. Care. I'm going back. Goodbye." And he disapparated again.

***

By seven the next morning, all the students were awake in their sleeping bags, talking, spreading the news of Harry's brief return and departure, and making up possible scenarios for what might have happened. Some were up sitting at the tables, eating breakfast that had been there when they all woke up. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all sat in silence. They were worried out of their minds about Harry, who they'd seen come in at about two with the woman in his arms, and hadn't seen him back since. He's been out all night thought Ginny frantically, but as she thought it, the big double doors opened again and in walked Dumbledore and Harry.

"Hogsmead has been secured and the fires have been put out. I would like to thank you all for being so patient. The reason we had you all sleep in the great hall was to protect you from any deatheater attack on Hogwarts that could potentially have occurred." Announced Dumbledore. "Some of you may be having trouble understanding the reason, or the cause behind this attack. I am sorry to inform you all that these occurrences have become all too common over the past two years. Lots of people, including many of your parents, do not believe it is wise to scare you all with such horrors, but let me tell you information is vital to the survival of peace. When we are informed we are educated, and when we are educated we work together. And if everyone tries there best to work together, then we can win this war. Voldemort works best by spreading suspicion and discord. If you are willinge enough, then you can succeed in not letting him get to you." He nodded to everyone, and walked smartly out of the room, but Harry stayed and made his way towards his friends.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, he smelled like brimstone and cooked flesh. Harry saw the look. He gave them a weak grin.

"Sorry guys" he said quietly. "I just thought I'd pop in before I go take a shower."

They all let out breaths of relief. He sounded mentally stable, and he would smell better soon. Good. Hermione smiled kindly.

"Use the prefects bathroom," she said. "The password is wintergreen."

Harry looked at her gratefully and left the great hall.

***

Harry stood under the shower for a very long time. He felt the grime and blood sloughing off his body and the satisfying sting as the steamy water washed out his numerous cuts. Harry scrubbed his hair with shampoo for the second time, rinsed, and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a soft, fluffy white towel off one of the benches, and wrapped it around his waste. Harry examined a cut between his knuckles, where the skin had split when he punched a deatheater with some sort of facial piercing. He grimaced. The man had been hooded, but he doubted there were many old deatheaters that got their eyebrows or lips pierced. This one had probably been young, and newly recruited. How sad Harry thought. He scuffed his foot on the tiled floor. Sometimes he wished he were in a different world, where none of this could ever happen. Harry sighed. He glanced over at his pile of dirty clothing, wondering why he hadn't thought to bring clean ones; he certainly didn't want to be making any mad dashes half-naked through the halls.

There was a small knock on the door, before the handle turned, and Hermione peeked in with her eyes closed.

"Are you decent Harry?" she asked.

Harry chuckled despite his dour mood.

"As decent as I can be when all I have is towels." He replied.

She opened her eyes and smiled. "Which is exactly why I'm here actually. I figured you might not have any clean clothes." She handed him a pile that consisted of boxers, sweats, a T-shirt, and socks.

Harry tried vainly to smile, but all of a sudden the events of the past 12 hours came crashing down on him fully. To his horror, he felt his eyes begin to fill. Great! He thought furiously, now I'm going to cry in front of Hermione. Hermione looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. She stepped forward and gave him a huge embrace. Something inside Harry snapped, and despite his minimal dress, he buried his head in her shoulder, tears soaking through her shirt. Hermione stroked his head in a sisterly way, and whispered comforting words.

"Everything's going to be fine Harry, we're all here. Just let it all out."

She continued to whisper and coax, and at length the tears stopped. Harry felt all dried up inside.

"How can one man do so much damage to half a planet?" came Harry's muffled voice, still buried in her shoulder. Hermione stroked his back, not knowing what to say.

" I hate him!" he burst out vehemently. Hermione pulled away from him slightly. She lifted his chin with one hand, and looked into his eyes, feeling an intense emotion in her chest.

"Then you do something with that hate Harry Potter. Take all that emotion, and use it to do influential things. The world needs someone to look up to in times like these, and you could be that person."

Harry's lip trembled.

"What if I can't?" he asked, his eyes full of anxiety.

Hermione smiled and tweaked his nose.

"You can do anything, and we'll all be here to help."

Despite himself, Harry began to believe her. He sighed.

"You know what I've always wanted?" Harry asked.

"What?" Hermione asked in turn.

"A big sister." Said Harry, now smiling himself.

Hermione beamed at him. "I would love nothing better, than to be your big sister Mr. Potter." She said. "Now get dressed and I'll meet you in the common room. Ron and Ginny are worried about you."

Harry turned, and set about finishing his washing up with a fuller heart.