October

The Indian summer had vanished from Hogwarts. The leaves began to change colours and fall from the trees, decorating the grounds in colourful beds of red, brown, yellow, and orange. Autumn had arrived.

Classes seemed to be taking their toll on all of the students. Everyday, Harry was given more and more homework to complete. He barely had time to eat, let alone for Quidditch and Occlumency. He felt exhausted from all of his studying and was looking forward to the field trip on Halloween. It would be one night where he wouldn't have to worry about his homework or Snape seeing inside of his mind.

And when he wasn't studying, he was sleeping. But his slumber was littered with dreams of the amphitheatre and Sirius's voice. He'd had the dream nearly every night. It was like he was stuck in a perpetual state of sub-consciousness. He had no clue who he was dancing with, but he didn't care. He was just trying to decipher his godfather's message.

It was Wednesday, and Harry was having a good day. The very first meeting of the year of Dumbledore's Army was set to take place in the Room of Requirement that night. And also, because it was Wednesday, it meant that Mr. Weasley was visiting their Muggle Studies class. He always had such interesting stories. Their entire class had embraced Mr. Weasley, and those who had viewed him as a crackpot, obsessed with Muggles, were now treating him with respect. Ron wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed to have his father in class.

"You know, mum always tells him he should write a book," Ron said as he and Harry walked down the first floor corridor. "She says it'd be a number one best-seller in no time."

"Well, Lockhart did it," Harry replied. "Your dad shouldn't have a hard time."

"Knowing Lockhart, he probably coerced somebody into writing it for him and then modified their memory after it was finished."

They were a few minutes early and the first to arrive in Muggle Studies, the last lesson of the day. Professor Avis was sitting at her desk and Mr. Weasley was standing near the dry-erase board. He was drawing different coloured lines on the board in no specific pattern. "Oh, hello boys," Mr. Weasley greeted.

"Dad, what are you drawing?" Ron asked.

"Oh, we're going to talk a little bit about plumbing in today's lesson." He put the cap on his marker. "How's things?"

"Fine," Ron replied. "How's mum?"

"Good. She's about ready to strangle the twins, though," he added. "Zonko's finally agreed to drop the complaint, but now George and Fred want to give them an inquiry as well." He shook his head. "Those boys are too ambitious for their own good..."

"Arthur! Are you there?"

Suddenly, Amos Diggery, appeared in the classroom fireplace. Or rather, his head did.

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed and sprinted over to the fireplace. "Yes, I'm here. What's going on?"

"We've got a problem," he replied. "I hate to interrupt your little talk, but this is an emergency. Henry Wilkens is at it again! This time, he opened up some sort of plant shop in London. It's called Henry's Herbs, over on Reynolds Boulevard. He opened it to the public - including Muggles."

"Oh dear." Mr. Weasley ran a hand through his thinning red hair. "That Wilkens is always stirring up trouble for me."

"That's not the worst of it. He's got a Muggle working for him. He claims that he thought she was a squib because she didn't use magic, but she knew the names of several wizarding plants. He's just saying that because he's knows that he'll be facing an inquiry to shut him down after this. Anyway, somehow, she ended up battling against a clump of Devil's Snare. Things got out of hand. Arthur, it doesn't look good. You've got to get over there and do some damage control. I've already called in the Obliviators, but it looks like we'll have to deal directly with the Muggle's family."

"Oh dear. This isn't good. I'll be there right away, Amos."

"Hurry, Arthur. There's no telling what will happen if some Muggle television station gets a hold of this. It could be a repeat of the Petrova incident all over again!"

"Yes" Mr. Weasley said. Amos's head disappeared into the fire. "Is this hooked up to the Network?" he asked Professor Avis, gesturing to the fireplace.

She nodded. "Just re-installed last week." She handed him a bowl, which Harry assumed was Floo Powder. "That Umbridge had it removed last year."

"Just in time then." He turned to Ron and Harry. "Sorry to take off boys, but duty calls. I'll see you next week." With a nod and a handful of powder, he shouted, "Reynolds Boulevard, London!" and disappeared into the flames.

Harry and Ron settled into their normal seats in the classroom. The rest of the students were piling inside, wondering where Mr. Weasley was.

"Too bad about that emergency," Ron said sadly. "Plumbing is one of dad's favorite subjects."

"Ah, Potter, that reminds me, the headmaster would like to see you." Said Professor Avis.

'Again!' thought Harry. 'What's wrong now?'

"Ton-Tongue Toffee" he said, to the Gargoyles hoping that the password to his office was the same as it had been a few weeks ago. The huge stone gargoyle twisted to reveal the staircase. Harry took the stairs two-by-two until he reached Dumbledore's office door. He knocked loudly on the oak door.

"Come in."

He pushed the door open and saw Fawkes sitting on his perch, preening his splendid red and gold plumage. Dumbledore stood next to Fawkes, stroking him with his long, thin fingers. His sweeping silver hair and beard had flecks of orange in them as weak late afternoon sun light caught them.

"Please, Harry, have a seat." From somewhere, Dumbledore conjured up a chair. "There is a meeting of the order tonight. You will go to the Burrow where you will meet up with the rest of the Order to discuss your vision."

"But I...I have things going on tonight," Harry said, turning to Dumbledore. Tonight was the very first D.A. meeting. Harry couldn't' cancel it.

Dumbledore continued stroking his beard. "I can take care of those things," he replied. He sat up suddenly. "It's settled. I hope you won't mind?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir," Harry said. "Should I go pack a bag?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, you will not be spending the night. Harry was beginning to think that he had planned this. "Our first D.A. meeting was supposed to be tonight."

"I'll alert Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. I'm sure they'll spread the word." His eyes twinkled with delight. "So, you have reconsidered your teaching position?"

Harry nodded. "I want them to be prepared more than anything."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, "everyone will need to prepare for what is to come."

Harry had the distinct impression that Dumbledore was trying to warn him about something - to bring something to attention.

Both Harry and Dumbledore stood up from their seats. He produced a sterling silver tennis bracelet from his desk drawer. "Once you touch this bracelet, you will be transported by this special Portkey to the Burrow." Dumbledore lifted the bracelet and held it out. "Are you ready?"

Instantly, he could feel the familiar tug behind his belly button. Dumbledore and his office itself became blurry.

When Harry arrived at the Burrow, dinner was already on the oak table and there were a dozen people gathered around it. Harry suspected the table had been bewitched, because it looked much bigger than usual.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley greeted. "It's so good to see you! Come in and have a seat. You must be starving." She ushered Harry in the door and took Mr. Weasley's coat after greeting him with a kiss.

He was a little intimidated by most of the Order sitting in the Weasley's kitchen. Remus was there, and he stood up and gestured for Harry to take the empty seat next to him. "Good to see you, Harry," he said, giving him a hug. "Just got your letter the other day. Excellent result in that Quidditch game."

Harry sat down. Somehow, his heart felt much lighter than usual. His feelings of envy towards Ron making captain seemed like they had taken place ages ago. He grinned at Remus. "Yeah not bad."

"You're in a good mood, boy," Mad-Eye Moody growled from the opposite side of the table. Harry smiled.

After helping Mrs. Weasley bring out the rest of the dinner, Mr. Weasley took a seat next to his wife at the head of the table. "I believe we're all here," he announced. "Let's eat!"

But as Harry glanced around the table, he couldn't help but notice that a few people were missing. Dedalus Diggle was there, as well as Elphias Dodge, and Hestia Jones. Snape wasn't there, nor Dumbledore or McGonagall, which didn't surprise Harry. However, one very important person was missing.

"Where's Tonks?" he asked casually.

Remus choked on the chicken he was eating. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry glanced around at the rest of the Order at the table. "Mr. Weasley said everybody was here. But Tonks isn't. Where's she?"

"Harry, are you saying you haven't recognised her yet?"

"Recognised her?" Harry questioned.

Remus shook his head. "I should've known. Harry, she's your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry dropped his fork. It clattered on the porcelain plate. All along Tonks had been in disguise as Professor Leurre? Harry had almost forgotten she was a Metamorphmagus.

"But then... that means..." His voice trailed off.

"That means she's been holding out on you," Remus replied. "She's probably been having a good laugh these past couple months." But somehow, Harry didn't find that in her nature.

"How's her lessons coming?" Moody questioned. "She'd better be talking about constant vigilance. I tell you, there's no better lesson than that."

Harry tried to hide his grin by wiping his mouth with his napkin. "We just started learning about ancient magic." He went back to his dinner, trying to recall what he'd learned earlier. "That reminds me, have any of you heard of a group of freed house-elves in London?" he asked casually.

This time, it was Remus who stopped eating. "Where did you hear that?"

Harry realised that every single pair of eyes at the table was staring at him. Apparently, this was classified information. Now he was going to get Dobby in trouble. "Er, well, Dobby happened to mention to me what he did over his summer vacation."

"I'm going to split that house-elf's ears off!" Moody groaned from the other end of the table. "I knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Oh, but it's not like that," Harry interrupted. "Dobby and I... we're friends."

"You forget that Harry was the one who freed him, Mad Eye. Indirectly, of course," Mr. Weasley said. "That house-elf knows what's at stake."

"What is at stake?" Harry questioned.

No one answered.

Once everyone was through eating and the empty dishes were cleared, the Order returned to the table. Harry felt like he was under a great amount of scrutiny. He wasn't quite sure what they expected of him.

"Harry, do you know why we've called this meeting with you?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded. "Because of the vision."

"And there are a few other things that we need to discuss with you." Remus looked slightly uncomfortable. He looked like someone was forcing him into something he didn't want to do. "The first order of business has to do with your actions at the Ministry the night when... when Sirius died."

Confused, Harry turned to look at the other members. They, too, wouldn't meet him in the eye.

"I know I am in absolutely no position to lecture you," he mumbled. "However, we feel - I feel - that we should talk about what happened after he died. Do you remember?"

Now it was Harry who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. What a stupid question. He had been trying so hard to forget that night, but he'd relived it over and over so many times in his mind that he knew he could never simply not remember.
His insides still churned when he thought of Bellatrix. Her icy laugh, her mocking voice.

"Yes, I remember," he replied coldly.

"Do you remember what you did right after? Right after Sirius had... Had slipped into the veil?"

"Slipped?!" Harry cried. "You know that Bellatrix..."

"When you chased her out into the atrium, do you recall what you did?"
"Yes, of course I do," he snapped. "I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her dead. I pointed my wand at her and..."

And now he realised what this whole lecture was about. He'd used one of the unforgivable curses. Unforgivable. Dumbledore had said that anyone caught using Dark Magic would be suspended immediately and taken away to the authorities

"I'm not going to be expelled and thrown in Azkaban, am I?" he demanded angrily.

Remus seemed to take his anger as a good sign. "No, no, of course not. It's just, well, it's our duty to warn you - to tell you. Harry, this is very important. I need you to understand this. We," he gestured around the table, "need to make sure that you understand."

"Understand what?"

"Under no circumstances can you ever, ever use dark magic." Remus turned to him, his dark eyes looking as fierce as Harry had ever seen them. "No matter who is killed, who is suffering. You cannot use an Unforgivable Curse against anyone in battle."

"It brings you down to their level," Mad-Eye spoke up. "Dark Magic is what we are fighting against. It is not a tool at our disposal. We do not use it for offensive purposes. Ever."

"Do you understand, Harry?"

Ashamed, Harry sunk lower into his seat. His face was burning. He could feel everyone staring at him. He had to show them that he grasped what they were saying. "I understand," he replied. "No Dark Magic. Ever," he added.

He had to admit that it had been a moment of weakness on his part. However, there was no doubt in his mind that if he had to relive that horrible night over again, he would do the same thing. There was such a rage inside of him - such utter hatred - that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back.

But if there was one thing Harry had to learn this year, besides all of his studies as a student at Hogwarts, it was to control his emotions. Besides, he thought bitterly, it didn't work.

"It didn't work then, boy," Mad-Eye said suddenly. "But that doesn't mean it never will."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that out of the way, we'd like to discuss your dreams."

Harry should have been grateful for the change of subject, but the knots in his stomach only continued to grow. "Right... Well, they're not all dreams. I mean, I can tell when it's a dream - just a regular dream." He paused. "And I can tell when I'm looking through Voldemort's eyes." No one flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "Of course, it's not until it's too late. He knows when I'm there. I don't even realise that I'm him - I mean, that I'm looking through his eyes - until my scar starts hurting."

He knew that this was old news to them. He'd written about the distinguishing the difference between a vision and dream in the diary. However, they nodded as though it was the first time they'd heard it.

"And there were those times last year when I had visions even when I wasn't asleep," Harry added. "But I haven't had any of those in a long time."

The Order still sat in silence, as if mulling over what Harry had just said. He was feeling guilty because he hadn't written down the dream about Sirius. He continued speaking in spite of himself; the silence was too much. "And the only vision I've had since... since that night... was of Bellatrix." He hated saying her name. He hated the way it rolled off his tongue, the way it lingered in the air like the stench of something dead that had already been removed.

"You needn't worry about that," Remus said finally. "The information you provided us with was right on target. It has been taken care of."

Harry didn't press the details, for he knew he would get none.

It was after midnight when Harry finally made it back to the common room after his meeting with the Order. Ron and Hermione were asleep on the chairs in front of the fireplace. Harry grinned and cleared his throat. "I'm back."

Ron awoke with a start and stood up. "And where have you been?" he demanded.

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you?" Harry questioned.

Hermione shook her head. "He only told us that we had to cancel any sort of plans we had for tonight because you were gone. Gone where?"

If Dumbledore hadn't told them, then perhaps Harry wasn't either. But Ron and Hermione were the two people who he trusted the most in the world. He had learned long ago that he couldn't hide things from them. Maybe Dumbledore just thought it would be Harry's place to tell them.

"I was at the Burrow."

"What? Why?" Ron asked. "How did you end up there?"

"It's a long story." Harry ran a hand through his unruly dark hair.

"Oh, so that's what this is about," Hermione replied. "To talk about your dreams?"

"Visions," Harry corrected her. "And the only one I've had was about the Death Eater in Azkaban. They said that they've taken care of it."

"How?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "That's all they'd tell me. But I did learn something very interesting. I think that Professor Leurre isn't who we think she is."

Ron just looked more confused, but Hermione suddenly jumped out of her seat. "Something's been bothering me about her name. If I remember correctly, Leurre means illusion in French."

"It fits. Professor Leurre is an illusion." Both of them were staring at Harry as though he'd lost his mind. He grinned broadly. "Don't you see? She's Tonks!"

Hermione pounded her fist into her opposite hand. "Of course! Professor Leurre is always knocking things over. She's a tad clumsy, just like Tonks!"

"But why has she tried to disguise herself as McGonagall?" Ron asked.

"Don't know. But Tonks doesn't know that we know who she is yet," Harry said.

"We should tell her," Hermione said. "It'd be the right thing to do."

"If you ask me," Ron said, "it would have been the right thing for her to tell us."

The next day started with a tremendous thurderstorm. The rain flooded the gutters that ran along the edge of the roof and hissed loudly on the window panes. Harry stumbled mindlessly through his classes. He was so worn out that he didn't think he'd dreamt at all for the few hours' sleep he'd had the morning before. He had taken a quick nap after his afternoon class but woke up hours later after dinner had already started.

Groggy and yawning, he made his way to the Great Hall. By the time he got there, most of his friends were already done eating. He settled down at the edge of the table and stared at his own reflection in his minestrone soup.

"Hey, Potter"

Draco Malfoy slithered over to the Gryffindor table, his face set in his familiar smirk. His pale hair was slicked back, his grey eyes sparkling.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat..

"Heard you didn't make captain," Malfoy replied. "I hope my mother's complaint to Dumbledore didn't have anything to do with it. Don't want them bending the rules for you again, Potter."

"Now you're having your mother fight your battles for you?" Harry retorted.

He sneered. "At least I've got one."

Harry locked his jaw. He knew that if he opened his mouth the filth that would have come out of it would have offended every one on the table within hearshot of him. Honestly, he would have wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and tackle Malfoy. But he had to control himself. He had to feel nothing. He had to be numb. He couldn't say anything.
Malfoy seemed surprise at his sudden self-control. "See you around, Potter."

"I can't take this anymore," Hermione announced suddenly. "I've decided I'm going to be a vegan." She pushed away her plate of eggs and sausage and helped herself to some plain toast.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"A vegan is a like a vegetarian," she replied. "Except that besides not eating meat, I also don't eat any kind of eggs or dairy products."

"So what exactly can you eat?" Harry questioned.

She shrugged. "Lots of things. Bread. Nuts."

"You sound nuts to me," Ron muttered.

"You're the crazy one!" Hermione cried. "Do you even know what you're shoving into your mouth?"

"It's just pig," Ron replied. "I know what pork is, Hermione." He gestured to his plate.

She looked at him, eyes narrowed, hair starting to crackle with electricity.

"Don't be fooled Herminone; if we didn't eat animals, they would eat us" said Ron sagely, focusing on his meal and not noticing the expression on her face.

"But do you know what they did to it?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Hermione, what did they do to it?"

Hermione waited until all eyes were upon her when she answered. "They castrated it."

Harry winced. Ron looked confused. "Castrated it? What does that mean? Is that some kind of flavouring?"

Harry would have laughed if he wasn't experiencing sympathy pains for the poor beast. He put down his fork. He'd quickly lost his appetite.

Hermione merely grinned. "I guess you could say that."

Ron turned to Harry, still perplexed. "What does castrate mean?"

Harry suppressed a grin. "I'll tell you when you're older." Ron frowned. "But I'll tell you one thing, if there was a spell for it, I'd do it to Malfoy in a heartbeat."

"What d'you want to do to Malfoy?" Ginny questioned, taking the empty seat next to Hermione.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "So I was thinking, when we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, we ought to have a small D.A. get together, just so we know who's with us and who's not."

"Let's not meet at the Hog's Head again," Ron moaned. The bartender gives me the creeps. How about the Three Broomsticks?"

"That may not be safe," Hermione said.

"I don't think security is an issue," Harry announced. "I mean, it's not like last year."

"True," Ginny said. "We could just get together and have a cuppa."

"But when are we going to get down to business, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "We've wasted over two months already."

He was well aware of that, but he wasn't ready yet. He wanted to study up a bit more. "Okay, tomrrow" he replied. That should give me enough time to revise some curses from the Advance Defence book, he thought to himself

This seemed to satisfy Hermione. "Ginny and I will go spread the word. How does one o'clock sound?"

"Fine," Harry replied. The two girls stood up from the table and nonchalantly made their way to the far corners of the Great Hall.

Ron sighed. "I guess I'd better start studying. Herbology chapter's a killer this week

The next day Harry was standing in line with his permission slip in hand to go to Hogsmeade at noontime. He felt butterflies in his stomach. They were annoying. He wished they would go away

He was anxious about the D.A meeting.

He must have changed his clothes five times that morning, and was now regretting the plain, white polo shirt he was wearing beneath his cloak. If it got wet, it would be ruined, and everyone would be able to see right through it. He didn't want to look like a drowned rat. Plus, he was wearing his only pair of khaki pants he'd ever owned in his life. There would be mud all over the streets and they'd be ruined. Maybe if he had time, he could scourgify them a little before going to the Three Broomsticks.

When they finally did reach Hogsmeade, Harry went to post another letter to Remus, while Ron & Hermione went ahead. He was walking back to the Three Broomsticks when he heard his name being called.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry turned around and saw Seamus running towards him with a bag full of candy from Honeydukes. "Hi Seamus," he greeted.

"On your way to the... eh, the meeting?" he asked quietly.

Harry checked his watch. It was already ten to one. "Yeah. Are you coming?"

"'Course I am." Seamus sounded insulted. "I know that last year... Last year it was an awkward time between us. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"Of course not." It was Harry's turn to feel insulted. "I guess I'm just surprised. I mean, you only came to the last meeting."

"It's just that I realised something," Seamus said, stopping besides Harry.

Harry stopped as well. He looked apologetic. "No matter what me parents say, I know a battle is on the way. You can feel it in the air, ya know? I had best be prepared. And I know that they might not trust you to teach us what you've been teaching us, but I know that I trust you." He grinned. "Besides, it'll be a great way to get me grades up in Defence Against the Dark Arts. That Professor Leurre has been on my case about practising my counter curses."

Harry laughed. But he found it odd that Seamus was so observant. Was there really a foreboding sense of war in the air? He had always had his personal battles with Voldemort, but had the time come for the whole wizarding world to be involved? And where did that leave the Muggles?

He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as he and Seamus headed towards the Three Broomsticks. He still didn't know what to do with the package. It was too big to fit in his pockets. Maybe he could try some sort of charm to shrink it, but not with Seamus watching.

The two of them stepped inside the pub. Ron and Hermione were already there, along with Colin and Dennis Creevy and Luna Lovegood. They motioned for Harry and Seamus to join them at a nearby table.

"I know that Dean and Neville are coming too," Seamus said, taking a seat next to Colin.

"Gin's bound to round up a few more," Ron added. Hermione, however, looked sceptical.

"I think we're going to have a few less than last year," she said. "Due to special circumstances."

Harry sank into his seat. He doubted that Ginny's old boyfriend, Michael Corner and his friends would show up, and he was glad that Cho and her friend Marietta Edgecombe, who had betrayed them last year, probably wouldn't turn up either

With only a few minutes to spare, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley strolled inside out of the rain. So did Hannah Abbott, Padma and Parvati Patil, along with Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith. Ginny and Neville rushed in at the last second.

"Sorry," Neville apologised, pulling over a chair from an empty table. "Long lines at the post office.

Hermione pulled out a slip of parchment with everyone's name on it, which appeared to be the same slip that had got them into so much trouble last year. Marietta Edgecomb's name had been crossed out.

Harry took a deep breath and checked his watch. It was already a few minutes past one. "It looks as though everyone's here." He straightened up in his chair. "I'd like to welcome you all to the first unofficial meeting..." He looked around at the small group.
The front door opened and shut quietly. He glanced towards the entrance. Cho was standing there, alone. She looked a little frazzled by the rain and a little embarrassed to be late, but gorgeous nevertheless.
Harry tried to ignore the flip-flop his stomach did at the sight of her. He didn't know she could still do that to him. She hastily made her way over to the group.
"Sorry I'm late," she said quietly. "Can I still...? I mean, is it okay if I...?" She glanced up at Harry.
He sighed. He didn't know that he could really trust her again. Although, it did take guts to come back to D.A. He glanced at Ron, who just shrugged. Hermione looked thoughtful. Ginny looked positively furious. Did Cho have her heart in the right place? Was she there to learn, or to merely make life a living hell for Harry?
He hoped he wouldn't regret it as Harry pulled up another chair between him and Seamus. "Have a seat. You're just in time."
Cho smiled and sat down, ignoring the murmurs around her.

Harry continued. "I know we're a little smaller this year, but that doesn't mean that we matter any less. We must double our efforts. We need to recruit more. For all of you know just as well as I do that the battle against Voldemort has just started."

Some winced at the sound of his name. Hermione spoke up. "I'd just like to say," she said staring directly at Cho, "that this year I've added an extra precaution to our contract." She held up the slip of parchment. She'd crossed off the names of the students who had graduated from Hogwarts, as well as those who hadn't shown up for the meeting. "I've added another curse. If anyone has a problem with this, please let me know and we'll cross off your name you can leave immediately."
All eyes were on Cho, who looked defiantly back at Hermione. "I'm staying," she declared.

Harry thought he should have felt relieved, but he didn't. "Our first meeting will be next weekend," he said quietly. "Usual place, at ten o'clock."

"Are you sure it's okay to do this?" Dennis Creevy questioned. "It's not going to turn into a huge fiasco like last year?"

Harry shook his head. "Professor Dumbledore has given us permission. Although, I'm sure there would be certain teachers who would have no problem suspending our little club, so we all need to be careful. Umbridge may be gone, but there are dark eyes and ears everywhere." He glanced around the pub. It was mostly empty, except for a couple huddled in a corner together.

"Is there anything we should read up on?" Hannah Abbott asked. "What are we going to work on first?"

"We ought to review a little first," Harry said. "I think we could all use some work on our Patronuses. And counter-curses," he added, grinning in Seamus's direction.

"Late again" sneered Snape.

"We were talking with Professor McGonagall about the thirteen uses of Dragon Blood!" Ron said, smartly and quickly. A few of the more intelligent students sniggered.

"That's quite interesting," Snape replied. "Because last time I checked, there were only twelve uses. I think it had better be ten points each off Gryffindor for poor punctuality, and a further ten on account of Mr Weasley's stupidity. Now go and sit down"

The Slytherins burst out laughing as they found their seats.

"Silence, or the whole class will be given lines!" Professor Snape hissed, closing a tatty black briefcase. He stood up, taller and more menacing in his billowing black robes, and walked slowly to the front of his desk.
"You all know, I presume, that your N.E.W.Ts exams are growing steadily nearer," he talked, his voice as oily as his skin. "The exam will be given to one person at a time, and I DO hope all of you are prepared."
"You will also know," he continued, "that the preparation for the exams is independent, until I say further. As for the dream trio," he added, walking over to a nearby table occupied by Harry, Ron and Hermione "I think it best if I split you up immediately."
Draco smirked. He always enjoyed seeing Harry Potter, being tormented by Snape. He himself had tried to make Harry's life (along with Weasley and Granger's) as miserable and humiliating as possible throughout the years, though many of his plans backfired. Harry looked over at him, a similar smirk on his face.
"Professor, sir," he said quietly, "don't you think it unfair not to split up Malfoy's group?"
"That," said Snape, his lip curling, "is a decision that will be up to me."

"Ha," muttered Malfoy, his pearly white teeth glittering through a small smile. He loved to get his way: he always had, and as Snape passed his, Crabbe's, and Goyle's cauldrons, he smiled at them.
"Today we will continue studying the varieties of truth serums, with the recreation of the Veritaserum, the strongest most powerful of all truth serums. Three drops will have you spilling your inner most secrets. If it works correctly, the taker will..."
Hermione raised her hand.
"MISS GRANGER, PUT YOUR HAND DOWN!" Snape shouted Bushy brown hair surrounding her face, Hermione had been the smartest person in her year, and was probably about to tell the fuming Professor that she already knew how to conjure the potion.
"I would expect a know-it-all to have no questions," said Snape, his voice now a deadly quiet. "Ten points from Gryffindor, for a question not worthy of answering."
Draco, along with many of the Slytherins, was shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy's slicked platinum blonde hair was shaking silently, as well as his hands that he had to cup over his mouth. Hermione, looking as though about to cry, slowly put her hand down, and opened her book, as well as Harry and Ron, who had moved to separate ends of the dungeon classroom.

"If it works correctly, the taker will tell you anything you wish answered, if made incorrectly, the mind of the taker will be a jumbled mess, neither knowing what is truth and what isn't. For those of you who have difficulty recreating simple potions," Snape said glancing down to Harry and frowning, "I have an antidote. Now get busy, you only have an hour to complete this potion, and don't forget, this will be a part of your N.E.W.T.S, so study it well."
"I want to hear no talking, as this is an independent assignment," ordered Snape, moving around his desk and sitting down behind it. "Page 356 of Advanced Potion Making will give you exact instructions. Begin."
The next hour was spent in silence, the only noise was that of clanking utensils on the sides of the caldrons and chopping of knifes. Harry and Ron worked separately, aware that Snape was watching them closely.
When Snape stood up again, the students looked up at him, watching him pace the room, inspecting the different caldrons. He looked at Malfoy's, lifting a spoon of the potion and smiling with wicked pleasure.

"Perfect as usual Mr. Malfoy," he said, then glanced around at the Gryffindors.
"Well, lets see if Weasley's got what it takes to make a decent wizard," Snape said. "Or are you afraid?" Ron stood up, confronting the greasy haired man face to face, then picked up the bottle of potion he had set aside for grading. Harry's heart began to beat furiously. There was nothing he could do to help his friend this time, and nothing he could think of saying would cause a difference in Snape.
"Three drops will have you telling me your entire life's story, which I do not care to listen to," Snape said, an evil grin on his pasty face. "So one drop should suffice for this class." He opened the stopper to the bottle and placed a dropper into the dark liquid, lifting the drop up for his pupil.
Ron took the dropper, quaking with fear, placing the liquid on his tongue. He looked up at his Professor, as Harry waited with baited breath.
"Now then Mr. Weasley," Snape said in a patronising tone. "Tell me, has anyone been helping you these past weeks with your potions?"
"No," Ron said firmly.

"And has anyone been substituting their potions for yours?"
"No."
"Then how is it you've suddenly become so well skilled in the art of Potions?" Snape growled bitterly.
"I followed your directions," Ron said with a smile. Snape sneered at him, as several students began to snicker.
"Tell me, Mr. Weasley. How is it you have finally decided to follow instructions properly? Tell me, what made the difference in you?"
"You finally started writing legibly," Ron said in a calm tone.
"You are above all the most irritating, irrational, worst excuse for a wizard that I've ever seen," Snape barked, turning to step back to his seat.
"And you are a greasy haired, beak nosed, pasty faced vampire with the worst breath I've ever smelt," Ron said in the most calm manner anyone had ever heard. Snape turned on his heel, staring at the boy through the silence of the room. Nobody spoke; it was as if everyone were holding their breaths, waiting for the explosion.
"What did you just say?" Snape asked.
"I said, you are a greasy haired, beak nosed..."
"I heard you the first time," Snape growled. "One hundred points from Gryffindor, and you will serve a full week's detention."

"You can't do that," Harry snapped, standing up for his friend. "He didn't do anything wrong, he just answered your question."
"Fifty more points for your audacity, Potter," Snape said. "And you can share in your friend's detention. Be here tonight at nine o'clock. Class is dismissed."
'I can't believe he took a hundred points from Gryffindor, just for doing what was asked," Hermione grumbled, as they climbed the stairs out of the dungeons.

Muggle Studies was after lunch. Harry came in a sat next to Neville

"Girls like that." Neville was saying

Parvati, who was sitting in front of Neville, turned around in her seat, her long, dark plait trailing on the end of his desk. "And what do you know about girls, Neville?" she scoffed.

Neville turned red. "I just... I mean that they like scars and bruises and stuff. Tough guys."

Harry laughed. "Maybe I'll try to get another scar then."

Parvati swirled around. "Why Harry? Are you trying to impress a girl?"

Harry knew that the entire class was looking at him, but for some reason, he didn't care. He just felt so refreshed after the visit to Hogsmead "Maybe," he answered, feeling in the mood for winding up the biggest gossip in Hogwarts.

"Ooh, who is it, Harry?" Parvati asked.

"It's not Granger, is it?" Lavender Brown demanded.

"No, it's not Hermione," he replied.

"Who is it then?" Parvati questioned.

"Is she in our year?" Lavender asked. "Our house?"

Harry groaned. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. "Never mind. I was just joking," he said hastily.

"Yeah, right," Parvati snorted. "I bet I know who it is..."

She was interrupted by Professor Avis's entrance. That morning she was wearing high heels that clicked as she trotted along the wooden floor to her place in front of the class. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid that trailed behind her back. She was wearing a sweater and jeans. This was the most that she ever looked like a Muggle. Harry was impressed. If it weren't for the rhinestone-covered cat-eye glasses, he would have never given her a second glance.

"Good morning, class," she greeted in her usual sing-song voice.

"Good morning," they replied automatically.

"Today is a very exciting day. Today we'll be discussing the details of our Halloween field trip, set to take place on Halloween night." She paused dramatically. "All Hollow's Eve is a special day in the Muggle world. There are religious aspects to this holiday, pertaining to spirits in the dead. However, on our actual field trip, we will be observing typical Muggles and mostly children as they participate in the time-honoured tradition of Trick-or-Treating."

There were some "oohs" from the students who didn't know much about Muggle culture. Harry grinned. He'd never actually gone trick-or-treating himself, but he'd seen Dudley dress up for a dozen years. Ironically, he'd been a wizard on several occasions.

"We will be leaving on Thursday afternoon right after lunch. You'll be missing your afternoon classes."

"Yes! No Herbology!" Ron celebrated, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," Profess Avis snapped. "I assure you, you're still responsible for all of the homework for that day."

Ron smile faded, but there was still a twinkle in his eye.

Professor Avis continued. "We will meet in this classroom promptly at one o'clock in the afternoon. The headmaster has been kind enough to connect our hearth to the Floo network. We will be travelling by Floo Powder to the Ministry of Magic in London, where Mr. Weasley..." she glanced at Ron, "Mr. Arthur Weasley will be waiting. From there, we will take a walking tour around Muggle London and explore Muggles in their natural habitat."

Beside Harry, Neville's hand shot into the air. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Are we actually going to get to go trix... I mean, are we going to go treating?"

"No, I'm afraid that after a long debate, we've decided it's a little too risky. However, that afternoon we are going to do something even better." Professor Avis grew quite excited. She waddled over to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a flier. "I've reserved us all a tour of the Tower of London and a special showing of the crowned jewels. We will be studying Muggle history and cross-referencing key historical dates and figures with our own." She grinned broadly, handing it to Ernie Macmillan to pass around to the rest of the class. "And if I don't get any trouble from any of you, I won't make you write an essay and compare the two.

"I have to stress that you must all be on your best behaviour. I know you all possess a curious mind, but please keep your hands to yourselves and your lips shut. The school governors were very gracious for letting us go on this field trip, and if all goes well it will become an annual outing. Unless you choose to mess it up somehow. However, you're all intelligent students. I don't expect trouble from any of you. Yes, Miss Brown?"

Lavender put her hand down. "I was wondering, Professor Avis, what are we supposed to wear? Do we get to wear costumes or anything?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Everyone will be dressed uniformly in black with a sweater that you will all be receiving at the Ministry."

Both Parvati and Lavender looked disappointed. "Why do we all have to look the same?"

"So that we'll look like we belong in a tour group. No fussing, girls, that's just the way it has to be." She cleared her throat. "As for the rest of the day that we've planned, Mr. Weasley has managed to pull some strings for us. That night, we're going to have dinner at a very special place: the Royal Dining Realm."

Professor Avis paused as though she were waiting for some more cries of astonishment from her class. "Don't you know what the Realm is?"

Neville raised his hand uncertainly. "I... I think that my Gran has eaten there. Whenever she goes, she's always dressed in ruffles and frilly clothes."

Professor Avis nodded. "The Royal Dining Realm is a special theme restaurant, which Muggles refer to as a Medieval Dinner. There is food from the old days, along with lots of entertainment that is important in both Muggle and Wizarding history. We're all going to have an excellent time."

"What kind of entertainment?" Ron asked.

"There will be jousting and fencing and games."

"Excellent!" Dean cried. "Will we get to joust?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied. "It's much too dangerous. I must ask all of you not to draw too much attention to yourselves. We have to do our best to blend in with the crowd. If we raise too much suspicion or are discovered in any way, it will be disastrous."

The mood of the males in the class seemed to deteriorate slightly at the sound that there would be no jousting or fencing involved in that night's dinner. "It's not fair," Ron muttered. "Muggles get to have all the fun."

After a few more minutes of explanation, Professor Avis was satisfied with her field trip lecture and the class began discussing the Muggle novel they had to read called, To Kill a Mockingbird. An American author who had grown up in the deep southern states wrote the novel. Harry couldn't help but notice that the racism in the book was something that he could apply to the riff between Wizards and Muggles, and even Wizards and non-human creatures. It reminded him of the unfair treatment that Lupin had suffered with for so many years and the trials he still had to face because he was a werewolf.

Class went by quickly, and before Harry knew it, the bell rang. "Please finish the last chapter for Wednesday and write a response. I want at least a foot of parchment." She dismissed them and then disappeared back into her office.

As Harry gathered his supplies, Parvati turned to him, a mischievous grin on her face. "So congratulations, Harry."

"Congratulations on what?" he questioned, confused.

"On you and Ginny," she said. "It's about time you two got together." She turned around, her dark hair flipping with her, and practically skipped out of the classroom. Everybody in the classroom froze, except for Neville, who quickly followed Parvati out the door.

Harry's mouth dropped. He suddenly felt all eyes on him. "Wait!" he called. "I'm not - Ginny and I..."

"She's got to be joking!" Ron exclaimed. "You're going out with my sister and you didn't even tell me?"

"We're not going out," Harry said forcefully. "We're not together. Ginny and I are friends, that's all. Nothing more."

"That doesn't mean you don't want it to be more," Lavender giggled. "We saw this coming long before you did, Harry."

"You don't understand!" Harry cried. "Really, we're not a couple and we don't want to be."

But it was too late. The entire class was buzzing with the new gossip. Harry fumed. He was going to hex Parvati into oblivion.

After both Harry and Ginny tried to set the record straight about a dozen times, he found it was nearly impossible to stop word from reaching the entire school. Harry apologised for what had happened, but Ginny seemed to take it right in stride. She was much more collected when it came to gossip.

"They'll get tired of it, Harry," she said. "You'll see. Next week we'll be old news. Besides, when they see that we're not together, they'll get the idea."

He hoped she was right.

After dinner that night, Harry climbed the stairs to the Owlery. He wanted to get a breath of cool autumn air before going down into the dungeon for his Occlumency lesson. He thought he deserved a few days off; he was absolutely exhausted.

As Harry pushed open the Owlery door, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the smell of owl droppings and rotting mouse carcasses. But when he did look inside, the sight amazed him.

Where there had been a pack of owls, there were none. Each perch was empty. There was no stench of droppings or any sign of life in the deserted Owlery. It was so eerie that Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He walked over to the window, his feet crunching on the hay-covered floor. He looked out, wondering where Hedwig was and if she was safe. He remembered that Dumbledore had said that owls had been intercepted earlier in the year. What if Hedwig had met the same fate - or worse, that she'd been killed?

Suddenly, Harry heard voices from outside the Owlery door. A snicker. The door was quickly thrown open, and Malfoy and his two goons walked in. He was carrying a tiny package.

Malfoy sneered. "What are you doing up here, Potter? Waiting for Weasley so the two of you can have a little romantic rendezvous?"

Harry's fists clenched at his sides. "Ginny and I are not dating."

"I wasn't talking about her," Malfoy chuckled. Crabbe and Goyle laughed along with him.

Harry could feel his blood boiling. He needed to get away from Malfoy before he did something stupid. After all, the Owlery was at the top of one of the tallest towers at Hogwarts, and the windows were all open. There was no telling if Malfoy got too close and Harry happened to bump him over the edge.

He checked his watch. He only had a few minutes before he was due for Occlumency. "I don't have time for this," he muttered as he walked past Malfoy.

"Going to be late for a remedial Potions lesson?" Malfoy snickered. "Too stupid to learn it by yourself, eh?"

Harry lingered in the doorway. He wanted nothing more than to take all of his aggression out on Malfoy with his fists. But he needed to be prepared for anger like this. When he met Voldemort again, or if he ever saw Bellatrix, he would have to control himself. He took a deep breath. "Whatever you say, Malfoy. At least my godfather wasn't too stupid to find a way out of Azkaban."

He flashed a grin in Malfoy's direction, who was at a loss for words, and then marched down the stairs towards the dungeon

It feels good to put Malfoy in his place, Harry thought with a smile.

Harry had finally done it. After an hour of blocking Snape from his mind, he'd managed to hit him with a jelly-legs jinx. Harry tried desperately not to laugh as Snape jiggled around the dungeon before performing the correct counter-curse.

In fact, the whole night had gone rather well. Snape had not seen any of his memories. He hadn't lost control of his emotions, even when Snape talked about Sirius as nothing more than a half-bred mutt.

It made up for the bad afternoon he'd had with Parvati's big mouth. The image of Snape with jelly legs was worth twenty verses of "Harry and Ginny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He had to wonder if his peers had nothing better to do than act like children.

Snape, who was still out of breath from the curse, glared at Harry with fierce eyes. "We're done for tonight, Potter. I'll see you on Thursday. Get out of my sight!" he bellowed.

Harry, who had been halfway to the door as soon as he'd heard the phrase we're done, stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to Snape, who was red in the face and greasier than ever.

"Professor, I've got my Muggle Studies field trip on Thursday. We leave after lunch and don't get back until late at night."

There was a glimmer in Snape's eye as he straightened up at his desk. "Then you can't go."

"But... I have to..." Harry stammered. He'd been looking forward to the Halloween field trip ever since the first week of school.

"No, you do not have to," Snape spat. "You cannot go."

"But it's for a class."

"But it is not required. It is not a test. It is not an examination. It is a silly field trip and a waste of time," he growled. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was taking some sort of sick pleasure in spoiling Harry's fun.

"Sir, please, Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley have made reservations. They're expecting me to go."

"Then I will give you a choice," Snape replied. "Your training is now more important than ever, Potter. You will miss the field trip and stay for your lesson on Thursday, or you will go on the field trip and we will have our lesson on Friday."

"But sir, I have Quidditch practice on Friday night. Our first match is this Saturday. I can't miss it." And Snape knew full well that it was against Slytherin.
"Then you must choose. The field trip or Quidditch."

"Isn't there any other time we could do it?" Harry asked. "Tomorrow?"
"I will not rearrange my entire schedule for your silly little excursions, Potter," he snapped.

Harry scowled. What could Snape possibly be doing the night before Halloween? Of course, it was Devil's night. Perhaps he had to go out and cause mischief with his fellow demons. However, it didn't matter, because Harry still had to make a choice.

He didn't want to miss the field trip. He'd only been to London on a few occasions. Ron would understand about Quidditch practice, but the next game was against Snape's house, and it was important to Harry that Gryffindor beat them.

He took a deep breath. "I'll see you on Thursday."

Snape gave no response. Harry sighed and trudged out of the dungeon, his spirits squashed beneath Snape's jelly legs.

As autumn progressed, the days became colder, and the nights longer, things began to change in the atmosphere in and around Hogwarts

It was the eve of Halloween, and Harry found himself focusing his mind on the flames leaping from the fire. The other students had turned in hours ago, leaving him alone in the room. The door of the common room burst open, tearing his attention away from the flames and back into reality. Ginny fell through, apparently unable to stand.

"MALFOY" she seethed, pointing at her legs. Harry recognised the leg-locker curse at once; Neville had fallen victim to it during the first year. He mumbled the counter curse.

"Thanks. I'm going to do something bad to him sometime soon" Ginny raged as she climbed the spiral staircase to the girls dormitory.

Harry returned to his thoughts of the impending celebration scheduled for the following evening did little to aid in the improvement of the castle's mood, especially with Harry. He didn't want to think about celebrating; instead he tried to focus on his Occlumency lessons, with a great deal of difficulty. He couldn't stop thinking about the events of the past week. The more he thought, the more tired he became. All he wanted to do was sleep, knowing eventually that he would have to wake up and face reality. With a reluctant sigh, Harry stood, leaving the warmth of the common room and climbed the stairs to his dormitory. He didn't bother changing into his pyjamas, instead lying on his bed fully clothed.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last several days. He could feel himself drifting into a state of slumber, when he suddenly found himself standing on a dark sidewalk. The sounds of the night whispered around him, the street lamp above his head was dim; the rubbish bins lining the curb were buzzing with flies. Harry could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching and had the instant urge to hide. The night seemed to suddenly cool, as a rustle in a nearby alleyway caught his attention.

He looked hard, straining to see through the shadows. The footsteps continued to echo up the street, coming closer with every second. The urge to run was pounding in his ears, but instead he found himself walking forward. He glanced down as he stepped, his shoes silent on the pavement, the light above him from the street lamps could not detect him to cast a shadow.

He edged closer to the alley, hearing a rattling breath and feeling the air around him turn to ice. The footsteps were coming closer, and Harry felt the need to cry out, to stop the owner from coming closer. Then he saw them, two dark figures moving slowly from the alley as if floating on air; Dementors. They were moving forward, past him. Harry hurried to follow, a slight sense of pleasure at not being affected by the hooded creatures as he always had been.

He heard the footsteps, they stopped briefly, followed by a secsesion of rapid, heavy footsteps; thier target was atempting to escape. Harry followed the dementors as they swopped after their prey. He caught a glimpse of the intended victim; to his horror he saw it was Percy

"Expecto Patroum" yelled Percy, pointing his wand over his shoulder, but only a thin wispy vapour appeared from his wand. It was insufficient to halt the demontors charge and they swept it aside with their revolting hands.

Percy crashed into dustbins as he fled through the alley, barely able to keep ahead of the wave of cold eminating from the hunters. Harry tried to keep up, then released that he was witnessing another vision. Voldemorts body was obviosly too frail to pursue the dementors.

Suddenly the lead dementor changed direction, aparently abandoning the chase. Good thought Harry, Percy might be able to fight one.

Percy, however, was beginning to weaken; he was slowing and a surge of cold engulfed him. He stopped to face his tormentor. Despite the darkness, Harry saw a look of fright cross Percy's face.

"Expecto Patroum, Expecto Patroum" he shouted, but again, the spell was too feeble to fight the dementor, only slow it.

Harry watched as Percy paused, seemingly to gather his strength and his thoughts.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM" he shouted, this time more confidently. A magnificent silver animal burst forth from the tip of his wand and lunged along the alleyway towards the dementor.

Harry squinted, trying to see the bright animal that lit the alleyway; it was a bear. It reached the dementor, reared up on its hind legs, and swipped at its face with a forepaw.

The dementor fled upwards into the night sky, but the cold remained.

"NOOO!!!" A cry followed by a scream of misery echoed in the night and he knew what had happened.

The other Dementor had tried to cut Percy off, and now it had found it's prey. Harry rushed forward, and watched in dismay as it leant over Percy's shadowed figure. As Harry neared he could see the Percy's red hair; he was lying on his back, eyes wide open in terror, his mouth in a silent scream. The hooded creature straightened up and glided away, leaving Percy soulless and worse than dead. Harry heard the rattling figures and the swish of it's cloak as it disappeared into the night.

High pitched laughter echo through the alley, and Harry's scar began to burn. He glanced back to the figure lying on the ground, near the alley's entrance. Harry stepped closer to the lifeless body and looked down at the tragic sight.

Percy Weasley lay amongst the cardboard boxes and contents of a tipped over dustbin. His legs lay in a puddle, but this was the least of his worries; his soul taken by the Dementors.

Harry awoke to an odd sensation, staring into the concerned eyes of his best friend. Ron frowned at him, the dim light of dawn shining around him. He sat up with a groan, feeling more exhausted then he had when he went to bed, his mind trying to search what it was that had just happened to him.
"Are you all right?" Ron asked, sitting back on the foot of Harry's bed, staring at him.
"Yeah, I think so," Harry answered, reaching for his glasses lying on the table near his bed. "Why did you wake me?"
"You were having a nightmare or something," Ron told him softy, trying not to wake the rest of the room's sleeping occupants.
"I was?"
"You were calling out Percy's name." Harry frowned thinking back on the night before. He was so tired, it was hard to focus his mind, but he thought hard remembering sitting in the common room practising his Occlumency lessons, then finally giving up and going to bed. He remembered the strange sensation of walking along a quiet street and the cold air. Then it hit him with the full force of what had happened.
"Percy," Harry said, fear and concern etching his face and voice. "I've got to get to Dumbledore. Percy's in trouble."
"What do you mean in trouble? From what?"

"Ron, I had a vision. Dementors attacked Percy, they kissed him. Someone sent them after him."
"Who? Why would anyone want to set Dementors after Percy? Was it You-Know-Who?"
"No, but he's in trouble. We have to warn him." Harry jumped from his bed, running down the stairs and out the portrait hole, followed by his barefooted, pyjama clad, red haired friend. They ran all the way to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, stopping short. They didn't know the password. Harry began pacing the area in front of the statue, thinking. He knew Dumbledore had odd passwords like Lemon Sherbet, but what was it now? Every so often Dumbledore would change it.
"Hello Harry, Mr. Weasley," Sir Nicholas said, coming around the corner of the hallway. "Up early aren't you?"
"Nick, please. We're busy," Harry said shortly, still pacing the floor.
"I can see that. Anything I can help with?"
"Not unless you know the password for Dumbledore's office," Ron said in an irritated tone.
"I'm a ghost, Mr. Weasley," Nick said, adjusting his head as it bobbed to the side. "I do not need passwords."

"That's right," Harry said stopping his pacing. "You don't need passwords."
"That's what I said."
"Can you get into Dumbledore's office and tell him we have to speak with him?" Nick looked at the boys, eying them with a frown.
"I suppose, but it is against the rules, even for a ghost to disturb the Headmaster. What's the problem?"
"Please Nick," Harry pleaded. "Tell Dumbledore I have to see him. Tell him I had another vision, he'll understand." Nick floated in the same place for a few moments, considering what the young man said, before nodding his head, adjusting it back to his shoulders and disappearing through the wall.
"I don't understand any of this Harry," Ron said once they were alone again. "Who would want to kill Percy?"
"I don't know, but I know we have to help him."

"How?" Ron asked, as the statue in front of them jumped aside, revealing the white haired man on the other side. Dumbledore looked concerned, stepping aside for the boys.
"Come with me," he ordered, allowing them to follow him up the stairs. Harry glanced back to see Nick gliding down the stairs from the upper office.
"Thank you Nick," Harry said softly, watching the ghost nod briefly, and then disappearing through the side wall.
A few minutes later Harry & Ron were inside Dumbledore's office. It was dimly lit by a handful of candles. The portraits of former headmasters were sleeping soundly, some snoring loudly. Dumbledore motioned for the two to sit, taking his own seat behind the desk. They watched him wave his wand, a tray of biscuits and tea appeared in front of them. The teapot took up its own accord, pouring the hot liquid into the three small cups that floated to the recipients.
"Now Harry," Dumbledore began, taking his teacup and sipping its contents. "Sir Nicholas tells me you've had another vision."
"Yes sir," Harry answered, sitting his cup on the edge of the desk and glanced to Ron. "I saw the Dementors attacking Percy Weasley. They kissed him on a street, late at night."
"Do you know who sent them?" Dumbledore asked with a deep furrow of his white brows. Harry shook his head, and then looked to Ron again before speaking again.
"I think I was Voldemort," he told the Headmaster, watching as he leaned back in his seat, his fingertips meeting as he placed his hands near his mouth. He eyed Harry and Ron for a moment, inspecting each expression closely.
Dumbledore reached for a quill and parchment. He jotted down a note, rolling it and taking it to Fawkes. "Take this to Arthur Weasley at the Ministry of Magic" he ordered, watching as Fawkes spread his wings, and vanished in a ball of flames. Dumbledore sat back down, looking at Ron.
"They will alert the healers at St. Mungo's. Don't worry" said Dumbledore in a reassuring tone, "if Percy's been attacked, the Ministry will find him"

"I can't believe this is happening" said Ron, stunned

"I was wrong last year with my visions" said Harry

"Yeah, but" started Ron

"The two of you need to get back to your dormitory. I believe you have the pitch reserved for your team's practice today. You don't want to miss out on your training."
"I can't concentrate on Quidditch at a time like this," Ron insisted, standing up beside Harry.
"You must," Dumbledore argued softly. "It is important for you to keep your mind occupied on other things. We will let you know what we find out."
Harry and Ron left Dumbledore's office in silence, walking back to their dormitory. They entered through the fat lady's portrait, and went straight to their room. Inside was nearly engulfed in the light of morning, yet as any other Saturday, all was quiet as the students remained in their beds. Nobody was eager to wake early on the weekends, and Harry and Ron found themselves crawling beneath their covers, staring at the ceiling while listening to the soft snores of the Dean, Seamus and Neville. Harry felt miserable. He had seen Percy attacked. "I can't believe Percy's dead" Ron said again after some time. Harry sighed. He felt helpless and it was the most irritating feeling he had ever experienced.
"I could always be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time" said Harry darkly.
"It'll kill mum," Ron said again, his voice breaking with emotion.
Ron turned over in his bed, hiding his face in his pillow. He wasn't willing to let his friend see him cry, but he couldn't stop his tears either. As much as he had always complained and argued with Percy, the truth was he loved him and missed him. Even though he had been foolish and arrogant at times, he was still his brother.
The weekend passed by in a state of sadness. The boys told Hermione and Ginny about the vision, and they found themselves staring out the window at the forbidden forest, waiting for any sign or word from home. They dreaded the idea of what the news would bring, and feared knowing but had no other choice but to worry. It wasn't until late Sunday night as the four sat alone in the common room, unwilling to go to bed and not wanting to face another day of wondering, that the anticipation confronting them full forced. The clock had just struck midnight, when a soft rapping noise echoed from the window. Harry looked up to find Hedwig sitting on the window ledge, her snow white feathers shining like moonbeams in the darkness. He had sent her late Friday to The Burrow, asking to be notified the minute any word was known about Percy. Harry and Ron were first to the window, pulling it open and allowing the bird to enter. He pulled the letter from her foot, offered her a treat, and then eagerly ripped open the letter addressed to him and Ron in Lupin's hand. Harry opened it, dreading what the contents would reveal.

It confirmed their worst fears. Harry's vision had been accurate.

Halloween this year was less then the joyous occasion it usually was. Nearly Headless Nick had arranged his Deathday celebration, but knew it wouldn't be the same either. The Headless Hunt had been cancelled, and even the Hogwart's ghosts were feeling the despair and tension of the times. Harry found it difficult to think of anything else but death and Voldemort. He spent many long nights sitting alone by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, practising his Occlumency lessons, hoping to focus his mind and prepare for the next time he had a vision of Voldemort