DISCLAIMER: I own nothing – it all belongs to JK Rowling.
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Harry rated the next few days as some of the worst he'd ever had at Hogwarts. Worse than when he'd found out he was a Parselmouth and the whole school was watching him closely, believing him to be the heir of Slytherin. Worse, even, than when he and his friends had lost Gryffindor fifty points each by being out of bed when they shouldn't have been in their first year. Almost as bad as the few weeks after the TriWizard champions had been announced, when Ron was ignoring him because he thought Harry had entered himself without telling him.

Ginny wouldn't talk to him.

Harry tried everything, but it was no use. She avoided him at meals, stayed away from the common-room and ignored him totally when he spotted her in the corridors between classes.

He'd tried to talk to her in the library, but had been chucked out when his frantic whispers didn't get her attention, but got Madam Pince's instead. Two days later, he tried a different tactic in the library, passing Ginny notes protesting his innocence. That attempt also failed – she simply took the notes, tore them up without reading them, and dropped them on his foot. He finally conceded defeat when the pile of shredded parchment reached ankle-level. Madam Pince threw him out for that, too.

In desperation, he finally elicited Hermione's help. He intercepted her on the way to the library and dragged her, grumbling, to the deserted Quidditch pitch.

"Oh, come on, Harry," she complained. "I've got loads of work to do."

"Please, Hermione," he pleaded. "Help a friend in need, won't you?"

She sighed and settled herself on the grass. "I suppose this is about Ginny?"

"She won't talk to me," said Harry. "She won't even look at me. And I need to talk to her, to explain what she thinks she saw the other night."

"And what exactly did she see?" asked Hermione, watching him closely.

"Cho with her arms around me," said Harry bluntly. Hermione stared at him, and then started to get up, disgust thinning her lips. "Oh, sit down. You know I wouldn't do something like that … don't you?"

Hermione sat, still glaring at him. "So what did happen then?"

Harry sighed. "Cho cornered me after the DA meeting and told me she wants me back," he said heavily. "Ginny saw Cho throw her arms around my neck – and then she ran off. If she'd stuck around another thirty seconds, she'd have heard me tell Cho that I'm happy with Ginny, and that I'll never get back with Cho. But she didn't, so she probably thinks I'm cheating on her."

Hermione took a deep breath. "So that's why she's been so scarce," she said softly. "Ron and I were wondering …"

"Yeah, I gathered she hadn't told anyone, especially Ron," said Harry bitterly. "If she had, he'd have tried to do me in by now. Help me, Hermione! I've tried everything to get her to talk to me but she won't give me a chance. Honestly, I don't know what more to do."

Hermione looked at him appraisingly. "OK," she said finally, reaching a decision. "I'll have a word with her."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thanks – I owe you one," he said.

***

However, the best-laid plans seldom work. It turned out that Harry wouldn't be speaking to Ginny that night, because he and Neville got detention.

The pair of them had taken to surreptitiously hurling jinxes at each other when they least expected it, to further sharpen their reflexes in throwing up a Shield Charm. They'd gotten so good at it that Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up when a hex was coming his way. On their way to Transfiguration, he felt that familiar prickling once again and muttered "Protego!"

The Body Bind Curse that Neville had flung at him bounced off his Shield and hit an unsuspecting Zacharias Smith, who was heading towards his Muggle Studies class in the opposite direction. He went rigid and keeled over like a felled tree, his blond hair standing straight up off his head. Unfortunately for Neville and Harry, they were spotted by Professor McGonagall before they could rectify the situation.

"WHAT do you two think you're doing?" she said sharply. Neville leapt into the air with fright and went pale. Professor McGonagall muttered the counter-curse and Zacharias sat up slowly, looking around him in confusion. "Are you all right, Smith?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, getting up with Harry's help. "What happened?"

"You got hit by a massive dose of idiocy," she said, glaring at Harry and Neville. "And by a Gryffindor prefect, too. I am disgusted by your behaviour – you two will have detention tonight!"

"But …" Harry started to protest, seeing his chance to put things right with Ginny slipping through his fingers.

"No arguing, Potter," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "You will meet Mr Filch in the Entrance Hall at eight sharp. Now, get yourselves into my class immediately – without trying to hex the whole of the free world, if you don't mind."

Casting apologetic looks over their shoulders at Zacharias, who was still looking rather dazed, they went into the classroom.

The day went rapidly downhill from there. Harry didn't even make it to dinner, as he was working in Snape's dungeon. For the first time this year, he was so distracted that he lost track of himself when preparing Boil Healing Potion he was making. He added ground elfstone twice by accident, and the contents of his cauldron exploded all over the dungeon ceiling. Rubbing his hands together in glee, Snape made him scrub it off himself, not even allowing him to use a Cleaning Charm.

Harry went skidding into the Entrance Hall one minute after eight, almost colliding with Mr Filch, who was waiting impatiently with Neville and Mrs Norris.

"You're late, Potter!" growled Filch, glaring menacingly at him.

"Sorry," said Harry, gasping. "Professor Snape kept me behind."

Filch shot him a filthy look, then marched off, Mrs Norris at his heels. "Well, come on, then!" he snapped. "You'll be serving detention in the library tonight."

Madam Pince was waiting for them. She whisked them off to the oldest stacks in the library, where the light was almost non-existent and the dust was lying about an inch thick on every surface. Their job for the evening was to clean the entire area and remove the collected dust and pests from what seemed like the last century or so.

Armed with large checked handkerchiefs to tie over their faces, and a bottle of Doxycide each, they set to work. Soon, dust was flying thick and fast through the air, and every now and again a Doxy would shoot out of the thick velvet drapes hanging around the dirty windows. Harry and Neville soon turned it into a game, trying to see who could paralyse the Doxies first with a blast of the pesticide.

Finally, however, the dust got to both of them. Neville sneezed so much he got a nosebleed, and Harry's eyes were red and raw from being rubbed. Taking pity on them, Madam Pince let them go.

"Dunno about you, Neville, but I'm starving," said Harry, as they made their way back to the marble staircase.

"Me too," said Neville, walking with his head slightly back and still pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding.

"Let's go down to the kitchens and get a bite to eat," said Harry recklessly. After all, it was nearly midnight – the chances of meeting up with Ginny in the common-room were slight and he really was ravenous.

Neville looked at him for a second. "OK, then," he said. "Let's just try and avoid Filch, though – I don't fancy spending another night with you in the library stacks. People will start to talk."

Harry laughed. Neville really was coming out of his shell – even six months ago, he wouldn't have cracked a joke like that. They headed down the corridor that led to the kitchens, stopping in front of the portrait of still-life fruit that concealed the entrance.

"Oh," said Neville, interested. "I didn't know the kitchens were in the same corridor as the Hufflepuff quarters."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at him. "And how do you know where the Hufflepuffs reside?"

Neville gave him a cheeky grin. "Let's just say I've escorted a certain blonde back here a few times recently," he said, grinning shamefacedly.

Harry reached out and tickled the green pear in the portrait, which startled to giggle and squirm, and then changed into a doorhandle. Opening the door, Harry motioned Neville inside.

The cavernous kitchens were unchanged, with massive copper pots and pans dangling from the eaves and a tantalizing aroma of cooking food lingering. Harry waved cheerily at the gaggle of house-elves that were bustling around.

"Hi there!" he said loudly. "Anyone seen Dobby?"

There was a second's pause, and then a high-pitched voice squeaked in sheer delight. "Harry Potter, sir!"

A small blur erupted from the pantry and hurtled towards them.

"Hello, Dobby!" said Harry, smiling in genuine pleasure. "Good to see you!"

"I have not seen you in so long, Harry Potter!" said the elf, leaping up and down on the spot. His attire had gotten even weirder. Apart from the usual mis-matched socks, tea-cosy on his head and his shrunken, maroon Weasley sweater, he was now wearing a lurid pair of shocking pink boxer shorts and a Gryffindor tie.

"Any chance you could rustle up something for us to eat, Dobby?" asked Harry. "We're famished."

"Oh, yes, Harry Potter sir!" said Dobby, clicking his fingers at a group of loitering elves. "Anything for Harry Potter and Harry Potter's friend!"

Within minutes, four elves had come staggering up bearing a massive tray, loaded with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, plates of sandwiches, and jam doughnuts. Neville's eyes bulged.

Ten minutes later, feeling distinctly stuffed and a lot more cheerful, Harry leaned back in his chair, smiling contentedly at an equally full Neville.

"Thanks, Dobby – you're a lifesaver," he said sincerely. "How have you been?"

Suddenly, Dobby's cheerful demeanour changed, and he looked quite serious. He sat down close to Harry. "I am very pleased to see Harry Potter," he said softly, looking around him to make sure they weren't being overheard. "I have some information he might find interesting."

Intrigued, Harry and Neville leaned forward. "What is it, Dobby?"

"I have heard tell that my old masters have been working with He Who Must Not Be Named," Dobby said in a strangled whisper. "They are making a plan …" he swallowed. "A plan to … come here … to Hogwarts."

Harry froze. "The Malfoys?" he said sharply.

Dobby looked around, a terrified expression on his face. "Shh!" he said desperately. "The other elves do not know that I am watching my old masters, sir! They still find me strange because of my freedom – this will make it worse!"

"Sorry," said Harry, lowering his voice. "What were you saying about the Malfoys?"

"There is something here at Hogwarts that they want, and they are coming to get it," said Dobby, his voice trembling. "I fear … I fear it is you, Harry Potter!"

Harry sat back, the sour taste of dread in his mouth. "But Dobby – they can't get into Hogwarts!" he said suddenly, remembering Hermione's many comments about Hogwarts: A History.

"There are many ways," said Dobby mysteriously. "Harry Potter knows some of them!"

"What's he talking about, Harry?" asked Neville.

"There are a few secret passageways that lead in and out of Hogwarts," said Harry quietly. "I know about them – maybe that's how they're planning to get in."

He thought about it for a minute, with Neville and Dobby watching him closely. "Dobby, let me know if you hear anything else, OK?" he said, standing to go. "I'm going to keep a close watch on Draco. Come on, Neville – we'd better get back to Gryffindor Tower before anyone finds us out of bed."

They quickly scarpered back along the corridor and up the marble staircase until they reached the portrait hole. Looking disapprovingly at them, the Fat Lady swung forwards to let them in.

"Are you going to speak to Dumbledore about what Dobby said?" panted Neville as they made their way through the deserted common-room and up to the dormitory.

"Not just yet," said Harry thoughtfully. "I want to check a few things out first. Keep it under your hat for the moment, OK?"

Neville nodded. In the dormitory, Ron, Seamus and Dean were all fast asleep. Whispering goodnight to Neville, Harry quickly changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed. He was totally finished – it had been a really long day – and he fell asleep and into a dream almost immediately.

He was sitting outside on a beautiful summer's day beside the lake, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The sun was beating down pleasantly, and the sky was a very deep blue. Neville and Luna came over to join them … it was strange, but although their mouths were moving, Harry couldn't hear them talking. Suddenly, a chill swept over him and he leapt to his feet. There, in front of him, was Voldemort, his scarlet snake's eyes boring into him.

"If I can't have you, then I will take your friends!" he said. Raising his wand, he pointed it in turn at each of Harry's companions. They slowly crumpled and fell in heaps on the ground.

"NOOOO!" yelled Harry, casting around frantically for his own wand.

Then the scene changed – everything was black, cold, sliding beneath him… he was going into someone else's mind … Voldemort's mind. His scar was burning, threatening to burst open with the pain. Then that unearthly freezing, and his high, cold voice … "Potter - it's you, isn't it? I knew it. Come and get me, then!" the voice getting further away… taunting him. Scrambling after it, feeling his connection with the real world stretching thinner, tauter, like an elastic band pulled too tight … then with a snap, it was gone, and he was floating in his own horror … the Legilimens Curse was upon him and his mind was adrift.

"HELP ME!" he screamed, knowing it was useless, worse than useless … no-one could hear him … there would just be a breathing shell of Harry Potter in his bed. He could hear Voldemort's mocking laughter echoing back at him. "Somebody… ANYBODY… HELP ME!" The panic started to engulf him …

Then, faintly, far in the distance, he heard Ron's voice. "Harry … come towards me … this way …" then Hermione… "we're here, Harry" … Ginny .. "this way, Harry, quickly" …. Luna … "towards us, come towards us" … Neville… "don't let go, Harry"…

A surge of hope in his heart, he started floating towards the sound of their voices, seeing in the eternity of blackness a glimmer of golden light. As he moved towards it, it became brighter and brighter, and their voices became louder and more distinct. Suddenly, he was bathed in the golden light, swimming in it, feeling it seep into every pore. With a massive jolt, he felt himself slam back into his body.

Utterly exhausted, his head throbbing fit to burst, Harry forced his eyes open to find himself lying on the floor of his dormitory. Around him, the golden glow was even brighter, and he could see his five friends – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna. Dressed in their pyjamas, they were kneeling around him in a circle, each with one hand on him and the other on the shoulder of the person next to them. And he could hear phoenix song.

His body and mind aching, weary beyond belief, Harry let his eyes slide closed, and darkness engulfed him again.