**Up and at 'em, chaps!
Righto, I'm back and I've got half a new chapter all spanking bright and ready to deliver. It's not perfect but better than the original was (wince) soooooo much cheese….
For those of you who don't know, the link to my new Yahoo Group is in my bio and New memberships and Fanart are always welcome. Actually, ANY fanart would be welcome. Thanks to all those who have already joined. **
"While we're here," McGonagall said. "Is there anything else you boys want to tell us?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Was there anything we forgot?" Ron asked.
"Everyone knows I'm a silver wizard, right?" said Harry, looking around at Dumbledore.
"I informed the staff and Remus," Dumbledore said.
"And I told Sirius," said Remus.
"Ok then. Was there anything else, Ron?"
"I don't think so – except, well, I'm an animagus."
"You WHAT?" Sirius exclaimed. Professor McGonagall put her head between her hands, Dumbledore smiled, Snape snarled, and Remus burst out laughing.
"I knew it!" he said through his laughter. "I knew it was you!"
"I seem to be missing something here," said Sirius.
"The bird," Remus laughed. "The bird that found Harry by the lake!"
"I don't see what's so funny about it," said Ron, a little indignantly.
"I don't understand any of this at all," said McGonagall. "It goes against all natural laws. You have to study for years to be an animagus – you'd have had to have started studying in your first or second year!"
"Like we did, you mean?" said Sirius, smiling. McGonagall glared at him.
"Actually, it's quite simple, Minerva," said Remus. "Since being an Animuchos has to do with destiny, you can do it naturally after only a few days of study.
"Which you provided, I assume," said McGonagall, glancing quickly at Sirius.
"Guilty," said Remus. "Anyway – Ron wouldn't even have needed that training after he and Harry became Blood Brothers."
"I see," said McGonagall.
"I had to sit through the training anyway," said Ron, in mock sullenness. "We lived through each other's lives, you see."
"You're being awfully quiet about this, Dumbledore," said Madam Pomfrey in a choked voice. "Were you a party to this?"
"I certainly knew the extent of Harry's abilities," said Dumbledore. "I authorised his training – and Mundungus Fletcher was brought here solely for Harry's purpose. I admit, however, that the Potter's have outsmarted me again. I hadn't heard of this bond between Harry and Ron."
"Well, that makes me feel slightly better," said McGonagall. "But what do you mean 'again'?"
Dumbledore smiled. "I think it might take too long to explain. For now – none of us are in the dark. All that we have heard today must go no further than the seven of us."
"No fear," said Ron immediately.
"Definitely," said Harry.
"Fine with me," said Remus.
"Who am I going to talk to, anyway?" said Sirius.
"I suppose you're right," said McGonagall.
"Yes," said Madam Pomfrey.
"Not a word, Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid.
"Good," said Dumbledore. "Now, I believe some of us have classes to attend to."
Harry began to get out of bed, then looked around at the looks people were giving him. "I'm going to Transfiguration," he said firmly. "Anyone want to argue with that?" He held up a hand, and silver fire collected around it.
"No, Harry," said just about everyone.
…
Hermione, strangely, acted perfectly normally for most of the day. She made no issue of the fact that they had missed breakfast, and inquired calmly as to why Harry had a bandage on his arm under his sleeve.
When they told her, she said "Oh," and she seemed to think about this for a second before saying. "That was nice of you."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Something was not right.
When they at last entered Wendy's classroom after two and a half hours of Binns' droning voice, they sat down at their normal places and waited for Wendy to commence the lesson.
"Right," she said, happily. "Let's start, shall we? Harry, up here, if you please."
Harry sighed. He took the note from his pocket. "Wen – Professor – I'm not supposed to use my wand arm today."
Wendy's eyebrows raised. So did those of many of the class. The note had not been necessary in Transfiguration or History of Magic. Harry had cheated a little in the latter, channelling a spell through the arm to make his quill write by itself, as he had done the previous week. He really didn't want to spend all that time writing with his left hand.
"Oh?"
"Yes. I've got a note from Madam Pomfrey." He was about to give the note to her but, surprisingly, Hermione raised her hand.
"It's true, Professor. Madam Pomfrey says Harry isn't meant to use his arm for spells." Harry had no clue what the emphasis on his name was for.
"Yes, thank you, Hermione," said Wendy. But, even more strangely, she didn't look annoyed with her, as Harry most certainly would have been, but she had that wicked glint in her eye. "Ron then, if you please."
Ron blanched, and glanced at Harry, then looked with horror at the small woman at the front of the class.
"Come along now, boy, don't be shy," said Wendy. Some of the class laughed. Ron, red as a beetroot, rose from his seat.
~What am I supposed to do? ~ he asked Harry.
I dunno!
"Now, Ron, as we saw before, you are a blue wizard – which means you are equal to me. How do you feel about a little duel?"
Ron went, if possible, whiter than he had been before he had gone red.
Calmly, Harry told him. She's worse if she knows you're scared.
~ Harry, she's going to kill me! ~
No she isn't. Now, listen. You've lived my life, right? Your blood is my blood. I'll help out. Let me in.
~What, all the way in? ~
No way. She'll be able to tell.
~She's that good? ~
Yes – but you'll do ok. Besides, like she said, you're equal to her.
~Yeah – except for the fact that she's an ex-Auror and I'm a kid. ~
You're a blue wizard – and my Blood Brother. That has to count for something, right?
~Oh, ha, ha. ~
"Come now, Ron, I'm waiting for an answer," said Wendy in a singsong voice.
~You sure she wasn't a Death Eater in a previous life? ~
Look, shut up and let me in. The door isn't wide enough.
Ron went inside his head. He shoved the mental barrier aside – he needed this help!
Watch it!
~ Sorry. You in? ~
Just a second.
Harry sunk himself into Ron's awareness. He wiggled Ron's fingers.
~ Hey! Don't do that! ~
You want to win, right?
~Win? I don't care! I just want to stay alive!! ~
You worry too much.
~No, I worry exactly the right amount. ~
"All right then," Harry made Ron say.
"Good-o!" exclaimed Wendy. "Everyone against the walls, please, standard procedure, you know the drill."
Obediently, the class moved so that their backs all touched the walls. With a wave of her wand, Wendy sent the tables to join them. There was now a large empty space in the centre of the room.
~I hope you know what you're doing…~
So do I…"Now, Ron, this is a fun game – I tried it before with Harry…" Wendy waved her wand, and she was dressed in a hooded black cloak and a mask. Several people gasped. Wendy removed the mask.
"A little too much, I think," she said, throwing it away. "Your turn, now, Ron! Do you know how to do this?"
What do you want to wear? Harry asked Ron.
~What? Harry – I hardly think this is the time…~
"Ron, dear? Do you know how to change your clothing magically?"
Choose! Quick! Or she'll do it for you – and that's a disaster waiting to happen!!
~Oh! Right! Er… oh I don't know! Just… anything that doesn't clash with my hair! ~
Harry sighed, waved Ron's wand with his hand, and whispered a word. Ron was now dressed in sky blue Easy-Fight combat robes.
~Very nice. ~
I'm glad you approve.
Wendy looked a trifle disappointed. So, Harry realised, looking around, did Hermione.
"All right then, Ron," Wendy said. "We bow…"
Harry shuddered at those familiar words, but bent Ron's back into a bow.
~Thanks, but I think I could have managed that bit myself, ~ Ron said.
Oh stop complaining. Look out!
Ron dove to one side as a beam of pinkish light went shooting past his left ear.
Nice one, said Harry.
~Gee, thanks. Where the hell were you? ~
Harry didn't have time to answer – sensing the spell coming at Ron's back, he rolled over and pointed the wand straight upwards. A blue shield burst forth – but something was different. There were patches… were they silver?
~Er, Harry? ~ Ron breathed. ~Is that you? ~
Um… no?
~What? ~
It must be you.
~Are you kidding? It was all blue last week! ~
Well, I'm not doing anything. But maybe it's… you must have been like this since Monday evening.
~I knew this would be trouble. Oh no – Harry! What if it does the same thing to you? Have I weakened your shield? ~
Don't be a prat. It was fine on Friday, wasn't it?
~Oh yeah…~
Want to take it down? Take them by surprise?
~Er… Ok… ~
Still in Ron's body, Harry tugged down the shield, yelled "Stupefy!" at the woman staring dumbly at Ron and got to his feet. Wendy threw up a shield just in time as Ron caught his breath.
The entire class was staring at him, except Harry – or Harry's body, which was looking with mild interest at the ceiling.
Harry swore silently. I've got to go back, he said.
~You WHAT? ~
LOOK at me!
~You can't! ~ But Harry was already gone. After a second the boy leaning against the wall shook himself and grinned at Ron.
~Harry! ~ Ron yelled. ~Get back in here now! ~
~*~
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as Wendy's shield went down. "Harry," she hissed. "Did you see that? It was silver – that's impossible –"
Wendy raised her wand. "Impedimenta!"
Shield, Ron! Harry yelled, silently.
"Expecto Protectum!" Ron shouted, and the shield flew up again to repel Wendy's spell. The shield flickered as Wendy ducked.
~Harry – help – can't – hold – it – ~
Ron, I can't, Hermione's got me…
~Don't – care – help – ~
Just as Harry was about to throw all caution to the winds and join Ron, three things happened at the same time.
Ron's shield dropped.
Harry yelled and fell to his knees as a whip of fire lashed across his scar.
He heard Ron yell too – and realized with horror that he had left the barrier between their minds open.
Wendy was at Harry's side in a flash, the dark cloak and hood vanishing in an instant. "Harry! You ok? Ron?"
"It's ok," Harry said, starting to get up, aware of the shocked gaze of the fifth year Gryffindors. "It's over now, I think…"
But it was far from over. Another burning shock of agony raked \Harry's forehead and he fell to the ground with a scream.
His ears roared – all he could think about was Ron – his head was on fire – was Ron all right? – white-hot knives were being embedded in his skull – he had to close the barrier…
~*~
Ron knew that Harry had suffered this kind of pain – he'd lived it, he'd borne it – but this was the worst that his own body had ever experienced. He writhed on the floor in agony – suddenly he couldn't remember where he was… who he was….
~*~
~*~
They landed in what appeared to be a school corridor, but it certainly wasn't Hogwarts.
The door-lined walls were plastered and painted blue, and various painting, drawing and displays looked down on them from every direction.
Muttered voices could be heard from behind many of the yellow doors.
"So… where are we?" Ron whispered.
"It's certainly different," said Harry, looking up at a mucky finger painting entitled – 'my famllie'. "Looks like a school."
"Well, if it is, it's a Muggle school," Ron said. "I know my first school didn't look anything like this."
Harry was just trying to get the idea of a wizarding primary school through his brain when he felt a wave of icy dread wash over him.
"Ron," he whispered. Ron turned to look at him. The realization hit them like an anvil.
"Oh god," said Ron. "A school – hundreds of little kids…"
"This is what they were talking about," Harry said, his throat dry. "That's why he tried to kill Snape – because Snape tried to stop it…"
"Harry –" Ron grabbed onto Harry's shoulders, forgetting that the two of them were usually insubstantial. "Harry – they're all going to die – we've got to do something!"
"Like what?" said Harry, angrily, pushing him away with both hands. "I've tried – remember! It doesn't work!"
"But they're kids!" Ron shouted. Full of anger and frustration, he pushed Harry back. Harry stumbled, and fell through the nearest door.
The odd thing about this was that he hadn't opened it first.
Ron stood for a second, breathing hard, staring at the yellow painted wood of the door, but Harry didn't come back out, so he closed his eyes resolutely and walked through the solid wood after him.
The first thing he did then was to trip over Harry – who was lying spread-eagled on the floor where he had fallen. "Ow!" Ron said loudly.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Professor McGonagall's voice.
Harry and Ron looked up in shock. It wasn't Professor McGonagall, though the woman standing above them looked an awful lot like her.
She seemed to have been interrupted during a reading session – there was a book in one of her hands, and behind her they could see a frightened look group of young children sitting in a near-perfect semi-circle.
Some had their hands over their ears as though awaiting an explosion.
They were all staring straight at them.
Harry was first to his feet. "You can see us?" he asked incredulously, as Ron used a tiny chair to pull himself up, too. This wasn't too successful, as his hands went straight through it.
Luckily the furious teacher had her eyes focused on Harry.
"See you? She screeched. "See you? Of course I can see you! You're those vandals from Friday night, aren't you? Graffiti all over the playground – I hope you know the police are on your case! Honestly, I knew you lot were delinquents – but to come inside the school, in broad daylight…!"
"But that's impossible!" Harry said, ignoring her outburst. "How can you see us?"
"The insolence!" the old woman exclaimed. "You suggest that because I am past my middle years, I have insubstantial eyesight? Never – in all my day – well, either that or you really are delinquents and you believe that you have control over some kind of… magic…"
Suddenly her look of outrage was replaced by one of concern, as she looked them up and down. She started whispering feverishly, so that her pupils couldn't hear. "You boys are from Hogwarts, aren't you?" she asked. "I recognize the uniform."
Harry and Ron looked down at themselves and saw that they were, as usual, indeed wearing their school robes, even though moments before Ron had been dressed differently.
"Yes," Harry said in answer to the old woman's question. "But how –"
"What's happened? Have you got a message from Minerva? What does she want me to do?"
Ron narrowed his eyes. "You're not related to McGonagall, are you?"
"I'm her sister," said the woman, clasping her hands in front of her. "My name is Ellyna."
Waving this information aside after a stunned second, Ron asked, "How can you see us? No one else can!"
Ellyna turned to look at her class, who ere all only about five or six years old, their eyes and mouths wide open as they stared. "They can," she said.
"But no one's been able to before!" Ron practically screamed at her. "No, Ron," said Harry's deadly calm voice. "Norman."
"What?"
"Norman. The postman, remember? He saw me. And," he said, his eyes widening with realization. "He was a Muggle."
Ron stared at him.
"Muggles, Ron," Harry said, as though explaining the simplest thing in the world. "Muggles can see us – wizards can't."
Ron looked at Ellyna. "She can't be a Muggle," he said. "Not if she's McGonagall's sister."
"I'm a squib," Ellyna said quickly. "Now what are you two boys doing here?"
Ron shook his head. "look – I don't know what's going on, but there's going to be an attack here – and soon."
"An attack?" Ellyna gasped.
"You have to get out," Ron said.
"How?"
There was a loud BANG! from somewhere below them, and sounds of screaming.
"Well I'm guessing it's too late to go through the front door," Harry said coolly.
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "What is wrong with you? We've got to help them!"
"It's too late, Ron," Harry said, his green eyes boring into Ron's brown ones. "Don't you get it? We can't help."
He swiped at a nearby table to prove his point. His hand went right through it. Several of the Muggle children gasped and put their hands to their mouths. Next, Harry stretched out his hand towards Ellyna – and made contact.
Harry gasped, still clutching at the old woman's arm. "Muggles," he said again, to no one in particular. "Sight, hearing, touch…"
He looked back up at Ron, smiling, his eyes bright. "You're on!"
~*~
Hermione screamed. So did Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Neville whimpered and put his hands over his ears. Seamus and Dean backed up further against the desks.
Wendy knelt with her hands on Harry's shoulders, unable to stop whatever it was that was hurting him.
Hermione ran to Ron and tried to shake him out of whatever nightmare he was having – but both of them continued to scream. After about a minute they both lay still.
The class breathed a sigh of relief. "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life," said Dean.
"Ron!" Hermione cried. "Professor, he's not waking up!"
Wendy put a hand to the side of Harry's neck and leaned over so her ear was close to his mouth. Then she crawled over on her hands and knees to do the same to Ron.
"They're still breathing," she said. She stood up and conjured two stretchers. "Hermione, you come with me to the hospital wing. The rest of you – who knows where Professor Dumbledore's office is?"
Surprisingly, Neville put up his hand.
"Right then, Neville, fetch Professor Dumbledore and tell him what has happened He will no doubt want to join me and Hermione, so tell him where we're going, won't you? And Lavender, you get Professor McGonagall and tell her about this – in private. She's got a class of Slytherins right now and we don't want them getting too many details."
They stood staring at her at this blatant favouritism. She clapped her hands at them.
"Come on – spit spot! The rest of you – up to your common rooms until dinner – no taking advantage of the situation to roam the corridors!"
They fled the classroom.
~*~
Neville had been to Dumbledore' s office a total of seventeen times, which was more, though he didn't know it, than Harry Potter.
He didn't even need a password since the gargoyle at the foot of the moving staircase had been enchanted to recognise his aura. Neville had no clue what this meant, but was grateful, because it gave him access to his Godfather whenever he wanted.
The fact that Albus Dumbledore was Neville's Godfather didn't really mean very much, considering that the old Headmaster was Godfather to about fifty children and nearly as many adults considering the amount of people you met and befriended in an occupation and considerable lifetime like his.
Neville, however, used the knowledge as something to cling to on the nights when he had nothing else.
At least I have a Godfather, he'd think over and over to himself, listening to Harry tossing and moaning in his sleep. I'm lucky. I'm not like Harry. At least I have a Godfather who cares.
Neville had been one of the Gryffindors who had stayed to find Justin McMillan in the Great Hall. He thought back to the horrified expression on Justin's face.
Harry went through that, and worse, Neville thought. Probably even more times than we know. And again and again, every night in his dreams. I dream too – about my parents – but at least I have Dumbledore, and my Great Uncle, and my Gran too, even if she is a bit…
He suddenly realised that he'd passed the gargoyle. He jogged back. "Let me in!" he gasped. He wasn't built for running. He rested for a moment while the gargoyle slid open, his hands on his knees.
Then he climbed onto the moving stairs and ran up them, trying not to feel giddy at the double motion. On reaching the top, he made to knock on the door, but he heard voices inside, and in spite of himself, he stopped to listen, breathing heavily.
"I still say it isn't safe." Neville knew that voice, wasn't it Remus Lupin?
"I know how you feel, Remus, but all the other strongholds are guarded – or useless – or taken. He is better staying here, with you and Harry." That was Dumbledore.
"I still can't do anything if Harry is in danger in case I betray myself to Alula." A hoarse voice Neville didn't recognise. "I'm as useless here as I am anywhere else – but Harry wants me to stay, even if I did embarrass him this morning."
Hesitantly, Neville knocked on the door.
"Who's there?" Dumbledore's voice called. His voice sounded a little startled, and Neville wondered exactly what he had interrupted.
"It's Neville, sir. Neville Longbottom."
There was a pause, a popping noise, a click like a door shutting, and then Dumbledore said: "Come on in, Neville."
Neville entered. Dumbledore sat alone at his desk. The boy couldn't help looking around slightly to see where the other two speakers had gone. A large black dog lay by the fire, apparently asleep.
Dumbledore looked up at him from his desk, his fingers laced together with his elbows on the wooden surface.
"Neville," he said cheerily. "You were present at the events of Friday night, I presume?"
"Er… yes, sir," said Neville, wondering where that question was leading, unless…
He jumped as a perfectly innocent looking cupboard sprang open and Remus Lupin staggered out.
"Stifling," the ex-defence Professor said to no one in particular. " Good afternoon, Neville."
"Er, yes sir," said Neville.
"So, what brings you here?" Dumbledore asked. "Surely class can't have finished yet?"
"No sir – Professor Little sent me – it's about Ron and Harry –"
The 'sleeping' black dog barked suddenly, making Neville jump.
"Can't leave those boys for twelve hours without something happening," Remus said, a little less cheerfully. "Go on, Neville."
"Well – I don't really know – they just… collapsed. They were holding their foreheads like they were hurting them – but, I mean I know Harry's scar hurts him sometimes but Ron doesn't even have a scar, does he?"
"Where are they now, Neville?" Dumbledore asked grimly, getting up.
"Th – the hospital wing – Professor Little couldn't wake them up…"
"Very well," said Dumbledore. He crossed the office in four strides and made to leave the room, Lupin and the dog following close after him.
Dumbledore stopped the dog. "I'm sorry, Snuffles," he said. "But you can't come with us. Alula will recognize you."
The dog growled, then its gaze landed on Neville.
"Very well," Dumbledore said again, as though agreeing to a compromise in an unspoken argument. But – it was a dog! "I'll send the boy with news."
The dog seemed to be satisfied with this. It started to pace the room in such a human-like way that Neville had to stare.
"Come, Neville," said the Headmaster, and Neville followed them out of the office, one question revolving around his head – who was Alula?
It wasn't until they reached the bottom of the moving staircase that he realised that he hadn't seen any sign of the hoarse-voiced man.
~*~
** Urg, I was going to do more but then I realised the update wouldn't come for ages. Reveiws always welcome!
Laterose**