Chapter Eight

ILVENTO

The four of them ate breakfast in the Great Hall together the next morning. The post owls arrived and, as usual, Hedwig was absent. A brown school owl dropped a rolled up paper in front of Hermione, clipping her bowl of breakfast and sending droplets of milk flying onto the table and her robes. She shooed it away and picked up the paper, unfurling it over her bowl. It was The Daily Prophet, Harry saw with no surprise.

Ron was excitedly unwrapping a parcel of his own. There was a note attached to the front of it. He read it out. "Dear Ron, here's a prototype from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Thought it might come in handy for all that homework you're going to have this year. Hope you like it (you owe us 3 Galleons). Love, George and Fred." Ron snorted. "Three galleons! What are they on about?" he lifted up the last bit of paper and stared at the object lying among the folds of brown paper. It was a fairly ordinary-looking quill pen, with a large brown feather sticking out the top. Ron picked it up glumly. "A pen. They sent me a pen." He looked at Harry, who smiled.

"Try writing something ith it," he prompted.

Ron lowered the pen to the parchment wrapping paper and began to write... but as soon as it touched the page it began writing rapidly, apparently of its own accord. Ron yelped and let go- it continued writing. Harry leaned over the table to see.

This is the worst present Fred and George have ever given me... Wow! A self-writing pen! Brilliant! Uh.. what?

"It's writing down my thoughts!" Ron said in disbelief. The pen continued to scribble rapidly.

... Wow, this is really neat. I'm hungry.

His hand went to his stomach and rubbed it guiltily. Harry grinned. "Try thinking of something else, Ron!"

Ron squinted and looked up at the ceiling. The pen wiggled furiously, hopped down to a new line, and wrote:

Snape is a greasy git.

Harry and Ron both laughed. Hermione jumped as if startled, then returned to the newspaper she was reading. Lily was watching the thought-writing pen with complete fascination.

"Can I have a go?" Harry asked, and Ron lifted the pen up- it was cut-off in mid sentence about how Ron had an itch on the back of his neck- and handed it to Harry. He drew the parchment across the table and placed the pen on it, thinking hard.

Malfoy has slugs for brains and his mother's a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

They both erupted into fits of laughter that drew glances from the Ravenclaw table, which was closest to theirs. Harry tried a few more experiments, mostly involving Malfoy, his mother, and his father. Each one prompted a fresh fit of laughter from Ron. Eventually he snatched the pen up- it was running out of room and would soon skip off the edge of the parchment onto the table- and stuffed it into his pocket. "Nice one, Fred and George," he said admiringly, and quickly cleared the insult-covered parchment off the table and scrunched it up.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly. Her voice was serious.

"What?"

"There's been some news... uh, you should read this..." she began to pass Harry the Daily Prophet, but at that moment Harry caught sight of a blond-headed figure weaving his way around the tables towards him. There were two larger boys on either side. Harry's back stiffened.

"It's Malfoy," he said flatly.

"Harry," Hermione said warningly, but Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had already reached the Gryffindor table and were striding down its length towards where Harry was sitting. Harry felt for his wand under the table, and, feeling it tucked safely into his pocket, he rested his hand on it as Draco approached.

He stopped right in front of Harry, behind Ron, who jumped to his feet and stepped aside. Harry also stood up slowly, as did Hermione. Malfoy's face was angrier than Harry had ever seen it. His mouth was drawn into a tight little snarl, revealing his teeth, and making him look like an angry rat. His face was flushed and stood out against his pale hair. His eyes flashed with bright hatred at Harry.

"Seen the paper today Potter?" he spat, and Harry noticed that he was holding his wand in his hand, down by his side. Harry drew his own wand out slowly.

"No," he said coldly, still having no idea what this was about.

"No," Malfoy sneered. "That's right. I forgot- you probably can't read." Crabbe and Goyle snickered at this, but Malfoy flung out his wand hand as if to shut them up. "Well guess what. Thanks to you, you filth, my father's in Azkaban." He spoke in a soft hiss, and poison dripped from his words. Harry shot a glance at Hermione, who was looking at him apologetically. Apparently that was what she had wanted to show him. Harry looked Malfoy in the eyes.

"I'd say he's right where he belongs, then," he said quietly.

Draco's wand hand twitched. He somehow restrained himself from raising it to Harry's face and unleashing every spell he knew on him, but it was only by a very thin margin that he succeeded. His nostrils flared alarmingly as he breathed heavily through them.

"I'm going to finish what my father started," he hissed. "I'm going to finish you off, Potter."

"Gosh, death threats... how original," Hermione snapped. She glared back at Malfoy, but he didn't even turn his head in her direction.

"I mean it," he said, talking very quietly, staring directly at Harry, his words laced with malice. "You better watch your back. I'm going to kill you." His eyes burned with hate, and in that moment Harry believed him.

Beside him, he heard Lily draw in a sharp breath.

In the next moment, several things happened seemingly all at once.

A shout rang out clear and loud, drowning out every other voice in the hall:

"ILVENTO!"

Then, a split second later, Draco gave a loud 'OOF' as if he has just been punched in the stomach, was lifted high into the air with barely a cry of surprise, and thrown across the room by an invisible force. He landed on his own House table. He hit the hard wooden surface with a sickening thump. Plates smashed and cracked under his back, and then, still propelled by the force of the spell, he rolled head-first over the other side of the table and landed out of sight on the floor at the very far end of the Hall.

The room erupted with noise. Among the screams, shouts, and sound of countless chairs scraping across the floor, he realized he could hear Malfoy moaning pitifully somewhere below the Slytherin table.

Harry's skin had gone cold and his guts had curled into a tight, painful ball. Mouth hanging open, he looked at Lily. She wasn't there anymore.

Then he looked down, confused, and saw her lying on the floor, her wand still clutched tightly in her hand.

Then he was shoved out of the way by Professor Finchley, who knelt down next to her and felt her pulse. "Stand back, give her some room!" He shouted at the Gryffindors who had gathered around to see. McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared at the edge of the crowd, and the students parted to let them through. Harry looked up and saw that on the other side of the Hall, Snape was crouching down below the table with Madam Pomfrey, Professor Flitwick, and several other teachers crowded around Malfoy.

Finchley had stood up with Lily draped in his arms. Her wand swung from her limp hand and then fell onto the floor. Harry picked it up.

"Give me that, Harry," Finchley said in a thick voice. Harry did. Finchley's face was constricted in anger and worry.

He left the Hall carrying Lily, followed closely by McGonagall and Dumbledore. Dumbledore paused breifly at the doorway to tell them to "continue their breakfast," and everyone in the Hall heard him because they had fallen silent. Snape stood up and made a motion with his wand, and a gurney appeared out of thin air, hovering next to the table. Two Slytherin prefects helped Snape lift Malfoy onto it. He had stopped moaning and was apparently out cold. Snape left the hall with Madam Pomfrey and the two prefects carrying Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle were still standing near the Gryffindor table, looking dumbstruck. They glanced at one another and then started pushing their way through the crowd, following Snape.

People started talking in hushed voices. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, feeling weak and sick. He knew Lily had really gone too far this ime. She would almost surely be expelled. The look on Ron and Hermione's faces told him they were thinking exactly the same thing.

"I'm sorry, Aurian, but I am afraid this time..." Dumbledore sighed, and then continued, "she cannot stay at Hogwarts."

Aurian Finchley, Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore stood in Dumbledore's office. The old wizard was peering at Finchley sadly from behind his half-moon glasses.

"Albus, I.... I don't know what to say," Aurian said, his hoarse voice choked with anger and frustration. "Lily swore to me... she swore she would never..."

"I'm afraid she has broken that oath on two occasions," Dumbledore said grimly. "Both times she placed another person's life in very serious danger."

"But Snape wasn't hurt!" Finchley said loudly, and pacing across the room. His hands were clenched on Lily's wand, as if he was thinking of snapping it in half. "Lily wouldn't have..."

"She wouldn't have? No, but she did," Dumbledore interrupted him. "She did, Aurian, twice- and this time somebody has been hurt... although how seriously, I don't know. I'm still waiting for news from Madam Pomfrey." He glanced off to the side, sounding distracted.

"Please- Albus, you can't send Lily away. Not when You Know Who's after her. You know as well as I do that if Vol... if he finds her, we could all be in danger! He could pick us off one by one!" Aurian was breathing hard and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The metal buckle on his coat clinked as he stepped towards Dumbledore's desk. McGongall watched on silently, one hand at her temple, as if she had a headache.

"I am well aware of your situation," Dumbledore said quietly. "But please remember, the lives of my students and their teachers must be my full priority as long as I am Headmaster of this school."

He stared at Aurian, who stared back, desperately trying to think of something he could say that would change Dumbledore's mind.

"Dumbledore," he said breathlessly, "it is the lives of your students and teachers I'm thinking of. It's the lives of you, Harry and everyone else You Know Who's ever had it in his mind to harm. He could do it," Aurian said coldly. "He could find a way to use her powers. It would be like giving his powers to Harry, only in reverse."

Dumbledore remained silent. He appeared to be thinking very hard.

"We have nowehere else to go," Aurian finished in a croak.

"I know that. That is why I granted you refuge here in the first place," Dumbledore said stonily. Another long silence fell. Then suddenly the door opened and Snape strode in, looking pale and strained.

"How is Draco's progress, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, straightening in his chair.

Snape glanced at McGonagall and Finchley. "He will live," he said dully. "He has a broken ankle and numerous bruises...and his shoulder was dislocated-" Finchley winced at this, "- but Madam Pomfrey assures me he will be fit again within a week... however, his progress will be painful." Snape added this last with a look at Finchley, who lowered his eyes.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. Snape gave him a curt nod and left the room. Once more silence descended. With nothing left to say, Aurian sat heavily in a chair next to a bookshelf.

A few minutes passed slowly and in silence. Aurian raised his head once or twice to say something, but then thought better of it. Eventually Dumbledore lifted his nose from his laced fingers and said, "I have decided. Bring her inside." Aurian stared at him mournfully, already guessing at Dumbledore's decision but waiting as if expecting Dumbledore to tell him. But he remained silent.

Aurian got up and left the room, appearing seconds later with a very pale and quiet Lily, who swayed dangerously when Aurian let go of her shoulder.

"I am aware that you are not feeling well, Lily, and I will not draw this out any longer than necessary." He paused, looking implacably at Finchley.

"You will remain at Hogwarts under the care of Aurian Finchley. You are forbidden to use spells at any time except when required to do so in class, and you will not speak to Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley or Hermione Granger by any means until you have redeemed yourself in the eyes of the teachers and students here."

Lily's face twisted with grief and she looked down at the floor.

"Furthermore, when not serving detention with Professor Snape, you are confined to Gryffindor Tower and the common room at all times out of classes or at mealtimes. If you wish to use the library you must consult Professor McGonagall or myself first- and request a note of permisson. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Lily said in a voice that was almost to soft to hear.

Aurian stood stiffly by her side, his hand clenched on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Lily, and then he looked down at his desk. "Very well. You are free to go. I suggest you get yourself looked at by Madam Pomfrey and then head straight to your dormitory."

Lily turned and left, supported on one side by Finchley, who gave Dumbledore one last look of gratitude before leaving.