DISCLAIMER: I own nothing – it all belongs to JK Rowling.
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Harry's relationship with Malfoy was taking a distinctly peculiar turn. In their day-to-day dealings, Malfoy still went out of his way to sneer at him and make sarcastic comments, and never missed an opportunity to try and get Harry and his friends into trouble. At the DA sessions, however, they worked hard together and soon began to privately look forward to the meetings.
Ron cornered Harry about it, early in April.
"Listen, mate, not that I want to nag you or anything, but …" he started awkwardly.
Nose buried in a Charms book, trying to figure out a complicated Invisibility Charm, Harry barely looked up. "Huh?"
"It's about you and Malfoy … what's that all about? I mean, you're practically his mate now."
Mouth hanging open, Harry looked up at his red-haired friend, who was staring at a spot at the wall about six inches above the top of his messy head.
"Mates? Me and Malfoy? Boy, have you got it wrong!" he said, starting to laugh.
"Well, you only ever work with him in DA sessions and …" stammered Ron. "We just thought it was a bit weird, Neville and me, because you two have always hated each other and …"
"Trust me, I still don't like him," said Harry, grinning. "But it's really good to work with someone you don't like at the DA meetings … gives you lots of incentive to hex the hell out of him. Seriously, Ron – that's all it is. He's still a slimy, ferrety git and that's never going to change. I mean, come on – you saw him try and get me in detention in Transfiguration the other day."
"Yeah, but …" said Ron.
"Yeah, but nothing," said Harry firmly. "He's just a bullying prat, but I'm working better than ever in defense because I've got him to practice on. Other than that – don't expect me to start studying with him or having dinner together. Not going to happen. Ever."
The Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry as intense as it had always been on the Quidditch field, where the two teams were destined to meet again in the finals of the Quidditch Cup. Malfoy had organized the Slytherin team into creating a semblance of the Gryffindor Braid, and they had used it to devastate the other houses. Harry and Ron had come up with a defensive tactic that they were saving for the last match of the year.
It was fairly dangerous, but worked very effectively. As it was impossible to disrupt the Gryffindor Braid formation by taking it face on, not knowing which player would be in possession of the Quaffle next, they had worked out that its only weakness was from above. They had tested this on their own Chasers during practice sessions, and found that diving into the formation from above effectively ruined the players' rhythm and forced them to break it up.
"Right, that'll do," gasped Harry after a particularly strenuous session. "But we'll keep that under wraps to use on the Slytherins during the final, or they'll cotton on fast and use it on us before we get a chance to put some points on the board."
Jokingly, Ron swatted the Quaffle towards Ginny, who saw it coming out of the corner of her eye and made a desperate grab for it. However, she was too late and the red ball soared past her and was nabbed by Katie. Ginny glared at her brother, then let out a despairing sob and fled off the pitch, tears streaming down her face.
"What …?" said Harry, horrified, as she sped past him, dismounting rapidly as she reached the changing room doors and then disappearing inside.
"I'll go after her," said Luna calmly, gliding off after Ginny.
Half an hour later, freshly showered and with his hair standing up in wet spikes and points, Harry was still waiting for Ginny when Luna emerged.
"It's OK," she said when she saw him waiting. "She's coming out now."
"What's up with her?" said Harry in an undertone.
Luna smiled serenely. "It's OWLs in a few weeks, you know," she said, absently running her fingers through her tangled blond tresses. "She's just a bit stressed, like the rest of us in fifth year. You should know, Harry – you went through it last year."
"Yeah, but you seem to be handling it fine," muttered Harry, embarrassed that he hadn't thought of it. His own OWL exams seemed to be a long way in the past.
"Yes, but then I've got a Greater Three-Toed Giggerwick to help keep me calm," said Luna.
Harry gaped at her, but was saved from enquiring about what she was talking about by the appearance of a red-eyed Ginny.
"See you later," said Luna, giving them a vague wave and wandering off in the direction of the castle.
Ginny sniffed and looked defiantly at Harry. "Don't start with me, Harry Potter," she warned heatedly.
"I wasn't!" objected Harry, wounded. "I was just going to ask if you're OK. I was worried about you!"
"Oh," said Ginny, deflated. "Sorry. I suppose I'm a bit on edge."
"That's OK," said Harry, putting his arm around her as they began to walk towards the school. "I know what it's like, remember? I was in your shoes last year. OWL year is horrible."
They were hailed by a cheery shout from the gamekeeper's house across lawn. "Oi – you two! D'yer want some tea?"
"That's a great idea!" said Harry, waving enthusiastically back at Hagrid. "C'mon, Ginny – it'll take your mind off things for a bit."
She nodded and they set off towards Hagrid's hut, hand in hand.
Things seemed a lot brighter in Hagrid's cosy home, especially as the gamekeeper himself was in excellent spirits. He bustled around the hut making tea, while the fire blazed merrily in the corner and Fang drooled happily over them both.
"You seem chuffed," said Harry, accepting a cup of tea and cautiously taking a slice of dodgy-looking cake off a plate. "What's up?"
"Dumbledore's jus' told me – Beaky can come back to live 'ere with me!" said Hagrid, grinning delightedly. "Since Lucius Malfoy's disappearance, plenty o' people have come out ter say they were being blackmailed or threatened by 'im, and the execution order on Buckbeak's been lifted. 'E'll be 'ere tomorrow!"
"Oh, Hagrid, that's brilliant!" said Ginny, smiling at Hagrid's obvious excitement. "Buckbeak must be really tired of Grimmauld Place by now."
"Especially with Sirius gone, yer know," said Hagrid, glancing nervously in Harry's direction. "Beaky really liked 'im and 'e misses 'im."
Harry took a deep breath, then a sip of tea. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."
He looked up at Hagrid's worried face. "I'm fine, Hagrid – really," he said. "I'm really pleased for you – we'll come and visit Buckbeak tomorrow."
But that visit wasn't to be. On their way to the dining hall, Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice echoed through the hallways.
"All students to return to their common-rooms immediately. Dinner will be brought to you there. All students to return to their common-rooms at once, please."
Shooting startled looks at each other, Harry and Ron did an about-turn and returned to Gryffindor tower. Professor McGonagall was waiting for them there. Harry glanced towards the window, and as he did, a sharp pain shot through his scar.
There, hanging over the town of Hogsmeade, was the Dark Mark.
Harry was transfixed with horror, and Neville saw his face. When he spotted what Harry was looking at, he blanched.
"Oh no," he muttered roughly. "Now what?"
Professor McGonagall looked gravely around at them. "You can see the Dark Mark outside," she said softly, her face drawn. "There have been deaths in Hogsmeade tonight, and indeed, all over Britain. It would seem that the Second War has begun. Lord Voldemort and his supporters have begun their evil work again – beginning, it appears, with killing half-bloods and Muggle-borns. For this reason, there will be no more activities outside, and all students are confined to the castle. Meals will be served in the common-rooms, and you will be escorted to and from classes and the library by teachers."
A deathly hush met this statement.
What? Harry thought furiously. Why didn't I know about this? Why didn't I feel it? Voldemort must know what I'm trying to do, and he's been blocking me like I've been blocking him …
"I must ask you all to take this matter very seriously," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "I do not want to find any Gryffindor breaking this rule. Any person doing so will be dealt with most severely – even to the extent of finding themselves expelled from this school and sent home to the care of their families."
Shortly after she had gone, a crew of house-elves appeared with dinner. Harry and his friends immediately went into a huddle over plates of steak and kidney pie, potatoes and beans.
"D'you really think we're safe here?" asked Hermione nervously. "Voldemort is very skilled – I'm sure he'll be able to break the protective spells on Hogwarts if he really wants to."
"Maybe so, but Dumbledore and the Order will be on full alert," said Neville quietly, but with his eyes burning with a steady fire. "They'll do their best to protect us. And anyway, it's not as if we're entirely defenseless ourselves now, after all our training. Personally, I'd love to take on a Death Eater or two again."
Not for the first time, Harry looked at Neville and was amazed at the maturity and confidence he saw in the other boy's face. Neville really has changed, he thought, remembering the chubby, forgetful boy of his earlier school years. I wonder if he even knows how much?
"Of course, you know this means no Quidditch final," muttered Ron glumly, heaping mashed potatoes on his plate. "Bang go all our plans for thumping Slytherin."
"Honestly, Ron," lectured Hermione. "I can't believe you're thinking about Quidditch at a time like this. Really, if you don't …"
Harry tuned her out, half-expecting another row to break out. He stood up, leaving his dinner half-eaten, and walked over to the window where he stood watching the Dark Mark dissipate in the evening air.
"I hope you're not planning anything illegal, Mr Potter," said a quiet voice behind him. He turned to find Ginny leaning against the wall, watching him closely.
"No," he said defensively. "I just can't help feeling … well, useless! Stuck here at Hogwarts, what can I do to help? Maybe I should try getting into Voldemort's head again, to see what his plans are?"
Ginny looked thunderstruck. "You know, for an intelligent person, you sometimes come up with the stupidest ideas," she snapped, her eyes flashing as she put her hands on her hips. Harry was irresistibly reminded of Mrs Weasley in full flight. "He's probably just waiting for you to do that, Harry, so he can lure you on again … and I'm not sure if we can help you get back the next time!"
He opened his mouth to retort angrily, when a massive bolt of pain stabbed through his head and he fell to one knee. Somewhere, dimly, he could hear Voldemort laughing, his voice high and cold …
"This will weaken the Ministry!" Voldemort cried in triumph. "Let them come to us now, with their limited numbers!" Shadowy figures, massive and hooded, glided through Harry's mind … an deep, bone-chilling cold swept over him and he felt his strength draining… With every effort in his power, he pulled back, back to the warmth …
Harry opened his eyes with an effort, putting one hand to his head. Next to him, Ginny was gasping, her hand held to her chest where he knew the faint mark of a zig-zag scar was situated over her heart. Forcing himself to focus, he looked across the room to where Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna were sitting. As one, they had looks of pain on their faces and were touching their marks.
"What's … what's going on?" whispered Ginny weakly, sliding down the wall to the floor.
"My scar is transferring pain to you," said Harry, sitting down heavily next to her. "I need to speak to the Order – I think I know what's going on …"