Chapter 50.  Confrontations

It took a while for Hermione to coax him out of the cosy four-poster bed, but Harry finally relented to get out of bed when Hermione refused to waste more time that could be spent having the entire Hogwarts library all to herself.  

"I'm taking a shower and plan to have my way with the Ancient Scrolls Section while Madame Pince might finally relent to let me do more than peer at one from afar," Hermione announced as she tied her dressing gown closed.  Harry was still unmotivated to move from the warm and twisted sheets of his bed; he watched Hermione dress with half-lidded eyes and a lingering grin. 

"Honestly," Hermione went on.  "You'd think that woman would understand that those texts and materials are there for us to use to learn!  It is the point of a school, isn't it?"

"Mmm, hmm," Harry grunted vaguely as he watched Hermione tie up her hair into a loose knot that, coincidentally, exposed one of the more kissable areas of her neck. 

"You're not even listening to me," Hermione grumped as she crossed her arms over her chest and mock-glared at Harry now.

"I am," he protested.  "You wanted to go take a shower.  See?"  Harry now felt motive to rise from bed and threw off the sheets, exposing himself in all his nakedness.  "Now, was that the Prefect's bath you wanted to use or," he scratched his head contemplatively, "the boys showers are just down a floor from here...?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to leave without a word. 

"Hey!  Wait—wait up!" Harry said as he hurried to try to find a dressing gown in his wardrobe. 

"I'll be using the showers in the girls' dormitory!" she called out from the stairwell.  "I suggest you recall what happens when a boy tries to step foot on our staircase!"

Harry frowned at hearing her retreating voice and had half a thought to use his Firebolt to fly up the girls' staircase. 

"And don't even think of using your broom!" Hermione's voice echoed up the stone stairwell. 

~

At lunch, Harry had hoped to see Professor Dumbledore back from London and his work as Chief Warlock.  Unfortunately, Harry was doomed to more fruitless speculation along with the rest of the Wizarding world as to what was going on with the investigations into the murders of Fudge and Planesse and the related investigation into Percy Weasley.  Harry had even had a dream the previous night where Percy was begging for mercy on his knees before Fudge who was dressed in a high-collared robe and who turned Percy into a ferret and then bounced him down the marble steps of Gringotts. 

After lunch in the very nearly empty Great Hall, Harry had decided to take advantage of the last few student-free hours by having the quidditch pitch to himself.  It was a bright, clear day and despite the cold and glare from the sun shining down upon the snow, it still made for a couple hours of fine flying.  

After his flight, Harry returned to the warmth of the castle and, with his Firebolt slung over his shoulder, headed to the library to find Hermione.  He was just walking down the second floor corridor and when he heard the sounds of McGonagall's voice wafting out of the half-open door to the staff room. 

"Filius, here's a list of your students to keep an eye on," she said primly. 

Harry stopped abruptly in mid-step and proceeded forward so slowly he looked as if he'd been hit with the Impediment Jinx.  He wondered immediately who these students were and why they were being watched. 

"Severus, you already have yours, I know," McGonagall said. 

"Oh dear," the voice of Professor Sprout said then.  "Severus, you seem to have lost a number of students completely!  Nearly a dozen!"  She made a tutting sound while Flitwick could also be heard murmuring, "Oh, dear." 

Harry had the feeling they were now going over lists of students for the next term.  Some, a good number of Slytherins it sounded like, sounded to not be returning at all.  Harry wondered with a swoop of impotence if it was because they'd been victims of some of the attacks over break.  The other option in his mind, that they'd declined to return this term because they were working as Death Eaters, wasn't much better though. 

Harry wondered what McGonagall meant when she'd mentioned some students who needed watching.   Ahead, he saw the Fat Friar rounding the corner and so Harry sped up to pass the opened staff-room door.  The ones who needed watching, he reckoned, were ones who were probably suspected of being spies for the Death Eaters.  He'd have to ask McGonagall later. 

~

~

With Sunday evening's arrival of students back from break, came gossip, rumours and wild speculation pertaining to all the various events that'd occurred over holiday.

"My dad thinks Fudge was a Death Eater all along!"

"I heard it was like the Quibbler said a year ago—Fudge had been having Goblins offed and baked into pies until one of them tried to get even with him."

The chatter in the Common Room that evening was at an all-time high as everyone desperately tried to catch up on the latest gossip.  Harry and Hermione, who'd staked out their favorite chairs near the fireplace immediately after their dinner and as students were returning, could also hear several rather nasty comments regarding the press's favorite scapegoat at the moment: Percy. 

"My dad works at the Ministry and he said Percy was only promoted because he had to have been working for You-Know-Who for years.  Remember when Sirius Black escaped from the castle that one year?  Percy was Head Boy—betcha he helped him!"

Harry kept his head down as he read his Charms text and resolutely did not acknowledge anyone or any of the comments slinging about.  He could feel Hermione's gaze flicker to him whenever one mentioned someone they knew. 

"I wonder where Ginny and Ron are," Hermione muttered as the portrait hole opened yet again to let in a flurry of more Gryffindors who were chattering away.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Ron is avoiding us," Harry said without even looking up.  He was working on refreshing his memory on the Potions project he and his group were expected to present on in two weeks.  Padma had sent word with Pavarti that she thought their group should set up some times to meet outside of class to ensure they were prepared. 

Hermione was still muttering about where Ginny was when the portrait hole opened again; this time to let in a worn-looking Dean Thomas.   Harry looked up to see him when Hermione called out, "Dean, are you all right?  Here—have a seat."  She rose and cleared her books off and onto the floor and beckoned for Dean to sit down.  Seamus, who'd been chatting up Lavender on the couch, came over, too.

"You look like you haven't slept all break, mate," Seamus said to Dean.  "Where've you been?  Did you catch a later train?"

It was true, Harry could see.  Dean's eyes looked bloodshot and he seemed frazzled. 

Dean nodded vaguely and said, "No, been talking to McGonagall." 

"Oh!" Hermione said with a small gasp.  "It wasn't your last term's marks, was it?  I know they're..." but she trailed off as Dean looked at her sombre faced and shook his head. 

"You didn't go home, did you?" Dean said to Hermione. 

Most all the Gryffindors believed Harry and Hermione had spent all of the winter holidays at the castle.  Hermione just shook her head and looked to Dean for an explanation. 

"They're all over the place," he said cryptically.  "First, my dad thought the furnace had gone out in our flat.  But then I knew... I knew it wasn't the furnace.  I heard...I could hear them and I knew.  None of the muggles know....  You guys don't know..."  He turned to Harry then, who had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that he did know what Dean was talking about, and said, "I saw some even—might've been as good as gone myself if it weren't for you, Harry."

"Dementors," Harry said barely above a whisper. 

"What?!" Pavarti shrilled as Lavender covered her mouth with her hand.  They both went from listening in vaguely from a nearby couch, to sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Hermione and paying rapt attention. 

Dean just nodded at Harry.  "You heard?  I didn't know if...I mean none of our papers said anything.  I checked the Prophet on the trip up here.  I went to McGonagall as soon as I got to the castle.  If I'd have had an owl, I'd have sent it to the Ministry to call for Aurors or something."

"They're not helping," Harry said dully, making Dean's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.  "The Ministry's not doing anything on it."

"It's true," Hermione said.  "I get to a few muggle newspapers just to keep an eye out for this...well, this sort of thing and we've watched as they've reported on it."

"You..." Dean was speechless.  "You knew?  The Ministry knew all along?  They came by three different times before I finally got a Patronus to work that drove them away!" he said, shouting now and leaning forward as he looked wildly between Harry and Hermione. 

"I don't get it," Lavender said, looking frightened and puzzled.  "What were Dementors doing in—" she paused as she tried to remember where Dean was from.  "London, right?"

"Yeah, West Ham," Dean said glumly. 

Hermione started nodding at this and said, "Yes, I recall reading that London's East End was especially riddled with the...well, the muggle press doesn't really know what it is, but that was one section of town that had several of these cases of mysterious deaths and disappearances."  She turned to Harry then and asked, "Remember that one spread in The Mirror?  The one that tried to layout evidence that it was all an elaborate government plot?"  She looked to Dean then, saying, "No offence or anything, but, well, it is known as rather a..."

"Shithole?" Dean offered.  Hermione looked reluctant to agree readily.  "Don't worry," Dean said with a wave.  "A lot of it is.  S'why no one seems to be bothered much that people are dropping dead around there.  I never saw any Dementors come back, though--not on my street; not after I finally chased them away." 

"Wow," said Seamus quietly.  "Did you get in trouble for using magic outside of school?"

Dean shook his head.  "I didn't even care—I actually thought it might help alert the Ministry if they saw me trying to cast the Patronus Charm." 

"The Ministry's had far more to deal with than underage magic," Hermione said darkly. 

Dean nodded.  "That's about what McGonagall said; said she'd make a note and make sure it was reported.  She got called away then and said I could talk to her later.  I didn't even know about the Minister getting killed until I talked with her!  I feel so isolated!" he said with frustration.  "Don't get me wrong—I miss my parents and little brother and everything, but bloody hell, am I glad to be back here in this world!" 

Lavender, Seamus and Pavarti then proceeded to fill Dean in on all the other details of the past several weeks.  Harry was glad to hear they all seemed to have the utmost confidence in Dumbledore's appointed Minister but the majority of the news was still quite depressing.  Even Lavender and Pavarti who usually couldn't help but be effervescent when gossiping seemed not quite as bubbly. 

"Doesn't anyone have any good news?" Dean said despairingly.  "Although, I guess Fudge kicking it is good but..."

"Oh! I do!" Seamus said with a bright grin now.  "Guess what I found out about me mum?  She's over the moon about it!"  He didn't wait for anyone to answer before he announced with pride, "I'm going to be a big brother!   Ain't it brilliant?  Me mum is..." he trailed off, unable to find words to describe his mother's joy, as a beaming smile spread across his face.  "Well, besides me, it's really all she'll have of Da'.  She waited to tell me 'til Christmas morning.  She says she feels like it's one last gift from me da', you know? Brilliant, it is." 

As Harry watched the Seamus' face light with joy and happiness at this new life, he couldn't help but be reminded of the hopes that Tonks had expressed about always wanting a younger brother or sister.  Tonks and Seamus were two people who had both lost their fathers to the Halloween attacks and the idea that the taking of one life was being replaced with another was so heart warming that Harry couldn't help but smile himself; he was also now very dearly hoping Andy was right and that she really was pregnant with another little Tonks.  They deserved it, he thought as Hermione gave him an odd look.  

But Hermione hadn't time to explain exactly why she was worrying her lower lip because at that moment, Ginny walked in through the portrait hole with Zoe Sorensen at her side.  Ginny spotted the group of Gryffindor sixth-years and headed right over to Harry's side. 

"Guess where Ron is," she said darkly as she nodded greetings to everyone else around them. 

"He did come back, didn't he?" Harry asked with some trepidation.  The possibility that Ron would ditch the entire concept of school had occurred to Harry. 

"Oh, yes," Ginny said with a deep sigh.  "Both he and I spent the last week with Bill and Fleur.  Bill took us to the train station himself.  Mind you, Ron wasn't keen on coming back and Bill did have to threaten to bind him up and send him by freight owl, but he's here now."

"But where is he then?" Hermione asked, clearly not sure she really wanted to know.

"Hospital wing," Zoe said nonchalantly as she blew a large lime green bubble from her chewing gum.

Harry didn't even have a chance to ask why before Ginny rolled her eyes and said, "He insisted on taking a carriage from Hogsmeade to the castle all by himself.  He was in a foul mood the whole day.   There were a few people who made rude comments about being a Weasley—you know, because of Percy."  Ginny said this as if she could care less and said the name 'Percy' like it was some vile and nasty potions ingredient they had to dissect.   "I guess Ron couldn't let some of the comments pass and Malfoy provoked him into a fight in the Entrance Hall.  Zoe, Luna and I were walking in and saw it.  Luna disarmed them both and since Filch was watching, we all made a show of stunning them and taking them both to McGonagall straight away."

"Luna Lovegood disarmed both Ron and Malfoy in the Entrance Hall?" Seamus asked with widened eyes and a look that clearly said he wished he'd have seen that in person. 

Ginny nodded and, with a sly grin, said, "All part of our Prefectly Duty." 

"So, why is Ron still in the hospital wing?" Hermione asked.  "Was he severely hurt?"

Ginny shook her head.  "Pride mostly.  He had a cut across the side of his head and bruised knuckles, but that's about it.  Malfoy was worse.  You know Ron, he skipped magic all together and went straight for the five-knuckled approach." 

"Did he get a good hit in?" Harry asked at the same time Dean asked, "Is Malfoy hurt?"

Hermione did her best to look disapprovingly at both of them as Ginny said, "Oh, Malfoy was howling like a girl as soon as Ron landed a fist into his gut."

Seamus and Dean both made noises of manly approval.  Harry was forced into maintaining an ambivalent face as Hermione was giving him a pointed look. 

Ginny went on, heedless of the silent exchange between Harry and Hermione.  "McGonagall made us all leave when we got to the hospital wing.  We saw Snape scowling his way down the corridor when we left."

Hermione kept giving Harry an unreadable look and, as the topic fell to Dean talking about how awful the Dementors were again, Hermione pulled Harry's ear down to whisper, "You know Ron's still in this foul mood because you're both in a fight again, don't you?"

Harry pulled back and gave her a dark look as he said, "Don't you dare suggest I go talk to him."  Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap.  "Hermione!" Harry said with indignation.   He lowered his voice then and leaned forward to hiss, "Have you forgotten what he said about you?  Did you forget when he decided to throw this last little tantrum?  I did try to explain myself to him—and I didn't have to then and I certainly won't now!" 

Hermione only looked up through her lashes at Harry until he huffed and pushed himself out of his chair.  He turned around, looking to spot Ginny's red hair amongst all the other Gryffindors in the Common Room.  She had migrated over to a window seat and was talking animatedly to some boy who seemed to be leaning closer and closer to her. 

"Gin," Harry said as he made his way over to her.  "Can I talk to you?"  The tall dark-haired boy she'd been talking with shot Harry an annoyed look that Harry ignored. 

"What is it?" Ginny asked, seemingly reluctant to leave her spot.

Harry just jerked his head towards a nearby corner and then headed towards it; fully expecting her to follow and rather hoping it further annoyed the boy with whom she was speaking. 

She threw an apologetic look toward her friend and stalked over to Harry then.  "What?" she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked expectantly at Harry. 

"Aren't you with Dean?" Harry asked.  It wasn't the point of his wanting to talk to her but he was perplexed by her behavior.

Ginny rolled her eyes.  "Dean and I haven't been together since early December.  Is that why you're here?  To keep tabs on me?"

Harry shook his head.  "No, no.  I—nevermind.  That wasn't the point.  I just didn't know and was surprised to...er, nevermind." 

Ginny gave him a look that said he'd better get on with it. 

"Well, how is everyone?"  Ginny looked confused.  "Your mum?  Your dad?"  Harry dropped his voice.  "Dumbledore's been too busy to even stop back here at Hogwarts since all the stuff came out with Fudge and Percy.  We've only read what's printed in the papers.  Why did you and Ron have to stay at Bill's?  Nothing happened at the Burrow, did it?" 

Ginny's expression softened at realizing the point of Harry's talk.  "Oh, no.  The Burrow is fine.  Dad did get a few Howlers though the first few days after news of Percy came out.  Some people were blaming Mum and Dad for raising Percy to be...whatever he is."  Harry must have made a face at this because Ginny nodded and said, "Yeah, it's mad.  Charlie's still here.  He put in for an extended holiday until things quiet down."

"Are they?" Harry asked.  "Quieting down yet?"

Ginny just laughed.  "Oh, no.  We stayed with Bill just for a change of scenery; that and Bill said Ron seemed to need the influence of a big brother around since Mum and Dad were so busy.  Dad had to get both Bill and Charlie to finally help bring Mum home from where she'd camped out at the Ministry.  She was so happy to believe Percy was cursed!"

"Happy?  Do you believe it?" Harry asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes and then toed a patch of frayed carpet.  "Mum's ready to believe it because it means that Percy never hated her and didn't really mean any of the awful stuff he said." 

Harry nodded.  "And the rest of you?"

"Charlie and Bill are mad at him still if for nothing else than dragging the family name through the mud.  The twins say they're planning their own personal interrogation of Percy if he doesn't get chucked straight into Azkaban and Ron..."

"What about you?" Harry asked shrewdly.

Ginny sighed and looked suddenly older and wiser beyond her years.  "Well...I think I've figured something out," she said slowly.  "You remember Professor Moody?  Well, he wasn't Moody but he showed all the classes the Unforgiveables?  He put each of us under the Imperious Curse and I can still remember that feeling perfectly."

Ginny's eyes closed at the memory and Harry wondered if it was similar to what she felt when she'd been possessed by Riddle's diary. 

"It was all light and breezy and I didn't have a care in the world.  He told me to sing the school song and, though it seemed a bit silly, it wasn't something that totally repulsed me.  I did it.  I sang the stupid school song without a care in the world."  Her eyes were open now and Harry saw a spark in them that was more than her usual twinkle of mere mischief.   "It wasn't at all like being told what to do by Tom."

Harry could see in her eyes a flash of the memories; blood-red writing on the wall, a vortex of wind and energy drawing her into the diary, and the young visage of a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle who spoke with a red glint in his eyes. 

"At first Tom asked me to do thing like write about myself and tell me about..." she looked sheepish for a moment, "you.  I wanted to do those things.  But then he started to ask more...things I didn't want to do.  The more he asked me to do these things, the more I felt I should fight—and the more I did fight it.  Remember?  I threw it away once." 

She shook her head and smoothed a hand over her hair.  "But that's not the point.  See, I think that if you're being cursed and you really don't mind going along with whatever you're being told to do, I don't think you fight it very much.  Everyone knows you can fight it, Harry, " she said lightly.  "But we also know you're a thick-headed and stubborn prat at times."  She flashed him a smile to show she meant no offense.   "You fight anyone who tells you what to do.  And see, I don't think I can forgive Percy very easily because, even if he was cursed from day one when he decided to believe Fudge and not Dad, that's two years!  If Percy hadn't believed in what he was being told to do, he would have—could have—fought it at least once.  He wasn't kept Stunned and locked in some trunk like the real Moody was for a year.  Percy, if he'd tried to fight the curse, could have managed to at least try to let someone know he was in trouble."  Ginny crossed her arms decisively now and finished, "So I think Percy is guilty of at least not wanting to do anything different than he was told.  The blubbing act was all because he was caught."

Harry was still thinking on this as he sat up in his bed, scratching away in his journal by wandlight.  He'd went over to Hermione after his talk with Ginny and said he was tired and would be heading up to bed so that she couldn't pester him again with any inane ideas of him going to find Ron.  Besides, if Harry knew Ron, Ron was probably trying to find a reason to stay away from Gryffindor Tower to avoid seeing Hermione and Harry.  Ron would only come back to the tower well after curfew, if at all tonight.  Harry also knew it didn't take much to convince Madam Pomfrey one was in dire need of a night in the hospital wing.

As Harry wrote, he heard three other people filter into the dormitory.  The snores that soon followed confirmed that Neville was surely out there but still; no noise could be heard from Ron's bed. 

It was late but Harry had slept in quite late that morning (and stayed in bed even later, he recalled happily).   Harry now recalled how he'd briefly had a few flashes of Ginny's thoughts as she spoke to him about Riddle.  He wrote down everything he could remember from the instance of brief Legilimency as he had yet to find a focus to sharpen this skill. 

Ginny was looking into my eyes the entire time she spoke.  The images I saw from her were those of her own memories.  She wasn't focusing on seeing me in front of her, but on her memories, it seemed.   Did she then help to project these images?  Maybe it helped that I knew what all three things I saw looked like, as I'd seem them all before. 

Harry thought back and compared this use of Legilimency with some of his previous trials with it while he was still at Headquarters.  At Grimmauld Place, he soon realized there had been little to discover about those residing there with him other than that which he already knew.   This and the fact that he often felt like he was prying unnecessarily, led him to only play with this skill on occasion over holiday.  

Lupin's eyes had always held a sorrow and torment that seemed to speak equally to the pain he endured through his affliction and through the pain he seemed to feel as the last lonely member of a once-close group of friends.  Lupin would easily meet Harry's gaze and lose himself in his thoughts.  However, Harry usually found the raw intensity of pain present in the werewolf's eyes to be too much and even disconcerting.  It made him wonder if that sorrow was something that Lupin always felt or if it was particularly sharp when he looked at Harry.  Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. 

Tonks was also without hesitation willing to meet and hold Harry's gaze.  The mischief and pure individuality of her personality was reflected in the randomness and breakneck speed of her thoughts.  Harry often felt dizzy from just a few moments of peeking into her mind and sometimes, he couldn't help but blush madly at the way her mind would suddenly veer into the gutter.   Again, he had no idea if this was normal for Tonks or if this was reserved for when she looked at and spoke to Harry; and again, Harry wasn't sure he really wanted to know. 

The Grangers, Harry wasn't surprised, always seemed to possess thoughts filled with questions; questions about him and, most especially, questions about Hermione.  Hermione, as a test subject of Harry's, was in a category all unto her own.  Harry flipped back a few pages in the journal to read what he'd written about what he'd seen in Hermione's eyes.

Hermione seems to be a bad test subject for any sort of Legilimency.  So many memories of hers are ones I share as well.  How can I even be sure they're hers and not mine?  Even when I see my face in her memories, I seem so much more through her eyes.  Better, stronger, braver, even handsome.  I seem like a better person and I wonder if she sees me like that or if that's only how I wish she sees me.    I hope it's not all in her mind.  If I could, I'd choose to be the one she sees me as.   

And I see all these things without even trying anymore.  It's always there now; this reflection of a better me staring back at me through her eyes.  But I don't think it's just her.  It's not some image of her own creation in which she'd like to mold me.  It's not like that.  I think it might be me; my mind, my desire even.  Yes, I see her and I know I should be more; I need to be more. 

Or maybe her mind is blank at these times and she's only seeing me; the image and sight of me occupying all the conscious space of her mind. 

But this is Hermione.  Her mind is never so simple.  Even beyond an image, there're always thoughts flying about.  Sometimes I think they're hers but I've never experienced that with anyone else so then I think they must be mine.  But other times, they're so unmistakably in Hermione's own voice that I can't imagine they're not her thoughts. 

And always, always, after I find myself having been lost in her eyes without an idea of the time passed, I feel like all my own defenses and shields have been melted away.  And I can never seem to be concerned.

And maybe that's the real reason Voldemort has seen Hermione through my eyes?  Or maybe the reason my mind's shields fall is because of the connection.  If it's love...

His entry had trailed off there; the thought reluctant to be completed.  Yes, Hermione was a case all unto her own. 

And the last resident of Grimmauld Place, Andy, had only confirmed that which Harry already knew: Andy was even more random and unpredictable than Tonks.   Andy's thoughts went from careening wildly to stopping so abruptly that Harry often felt like he'd smacked into a figurative wall of fog. 

Harry was eager to take advantage of the greater number of people surrounding him at Hogwarts and gain more experience in Legilimency.  So far, he knew he had to find something to focus upon projecting through his own eyes that would help keep the other person looking into his eyes.  He knew asking about memories or specific things and not just mere thoughts was also an important key. 

Harry flipped back to the most recent entry and flipped the gold cord in between the pages along with his quill.  As he tucked the book and other things away for the night and then rubbed his eyes sleepily, he vowed to make good progress with his Legilimency skills this term.  Too tired to move to make a note of it in his journal, Harry vaguely noted that his voices were still there; increased in volume and eager to offer encouragement for his vow to increase any and every skill. 

~

~

The first class of the new term was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.  Harry had not seen Professor Dumbledore yet at breakfast but was hopeful the headmaster might return in time for his scheduled afternoon of private tutoring with Harry. 

"Potter, do me a favour and make all the pairs of desks face one another," McGonagall asked as Harry and Hermione were the first students to arrive. 

Harry dropped his bag onto the floor and began to turn around the first desk.

"Potter," McGonagall said with a note of exasperation.  "Try using magic?  Better yet, try Transfiguration.  Here's a clue—you should be able to do this with one spell."  She dropped a stack of books onto her desk and then returned back into her office. 

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione who was giving him a superior look that clearly said she would have known that.  With a wave and flourish of his wand, Harry animated and then directed all the pairs of desks in the room to face one another.  He was just using his wand to direct the last pair into place when a drawling voice made him want to start throwing hexes.

"Showing off already Potter?" Draco Malfoy said as he sauntered in and scowled at the new arrangements of desks.  "Please, my breakfast's not even settled yet and if seeing you wave your wand about isn't enough to make me retch, then seeing Granger this early is."

Pansy Parkinson was trailing Malfoy like a shadow and added nastily, "Oh, I bet Potter likes to see a little mudblood first thing in the morning!"  

Hermione's hand was on Harry's arm and he could hear her muttering, "Don't even bother with them."

Harry turned to take one of the seats near the front when Malfoy drawled again, "Have a good holiday, Potter?  Get to visit with all your family?  Oh wait, you don't have any, do you?"  He laughed at his own joke as Pansy simpered with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Gee, I don't know Malfoy," Harry said twisting in his seat to glare back at the pointy-faced blond.  "At least I didn't have to trek off to prison to visit any family members or harbour any fugitives to see family for holidays.  How about you?"

Malfoy's pale (and pasty) face turned an angry shade of red, but before he could retort, several other students entered the classroom and McGonagall's voice rang out sharply. 

"Potter, Malfoy, please confine your rivalries to the Quidditch pitch.  You two," she said pointing to Pansy and Malfoy, "split up and sit apart.  Malfoy—front row, please.  Potter, move up here by my desk.  We have an uneven number in the class now and, as we need to be partnering up for the work today, you'll work with me."

The class consisted of McGonagall instructing everyone to begin practicing casting simple color-switching spells on their hair while a partner watched and told them how well they were doing.  McGonagall set them all to work and then walked over to where Harry sat far away from all the others and said in a low voice, "Potter, conjure yourself a mirror for now and practice the spells on the board.  Practice using your own skills to revert back to yourself." 

As McGonagall strode away to check on the progress of the class, Harry heard Pansy snicker and say, "Weasley, you should take note of these spells so he get rid of those spots all over your face."

This reminded Harry that this was a class, which Ron should also be attending.  He turned in his seat and twisted around to look for Ron's bright red head.  He found it seated in the far back of the classroom; he was paired with Seamus and both were scowling at their misfortune of being seated beside Pansy and her partner. 

Despite feeling pang of regret at not even getting to see Ron before now, Harry also felt a lingering and unresolved anger concerning Ron's behavior at the Celebration.

"Turn around, Potter," Malfoy hissed from his seat in the front row where he partnered with a disgruntled looking Ernie Macmillan.  "You're being punished so get back to facing the front," he said with a smug little smirk.

Harry checked once to make sure McGonagall was paying attention to helping out two Ravenclaws and shot back, "I think being forced to partner with you and having to stare at your pointy little ferret face would be a far worse punishment.   My sympathies, Macmillan."   Ernie shot Harry a look of suffering.  

Throughout the rest of the class Harry could see, in the reflection of his mirror, Malfoy continuing to glare at the back of his head.  In the end, Harry spent more time glaring at Malfoy's reflection than he did working on transfiguration.  

Near the end of class, McGonagall strolled back up front near Harry and said, "I received an owl from the Headmaster this morning.  He will be returning here this evening.  In lieu of your afternoon session with him, perhaps you should find a quiet place to do more training on your skills?"  The bell rang then and McGonagall quickly added, "And I suspect we'll all want to meet after dinner this evening to hear what Professor Dumbledore has to say.  You may pass that along to Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said as he vanished his mirror and picked up his bag. 

He turned to find Hermione then but, instead found Malfoy lingering at his desk while unconvincingly seeming to search for something under his desk.    "Looking for something, Malfoy?" Harry asked slyly as he walked towards the seat previously occupied by Ernie. 

Malfoy's head snapped up to glare at Harry.  The Slytherin straightened up then and haughtily brushed off the non-existent dirt from the front of his robes. 

As Malfoy redirected his grey-eyed glare from his robes back to Harry, a whim struck Harry as he spied Malfoy's Transfiguration text still out. 

"Don't forget your book, Malfoy," Harry said as he watched cool grey eyes flicker down to the desktop and then back up to Harry's.   Harry spoke deliberately then as he added, "A book can be a tricky thing to find once it's gone missing."

Malfoy's eyes did little but radiate their usual loathing until the briefest flash of surprise crossed Malfoy's face.  Harry's heart was thumping as he wished he could will Malfoy to let him into his mind.  But it lasted for only a moment before Malfoy broke off eye contact and, spitefully, his gaze flicked up towards Harry's infamous scar and then sneered at the whole of Harry.

"You don't know anything," Malfoy spat in a low voice. 

Harry shrugged and watched Malfoy's fist tighten in his robe pocket.  Wand, Harry thought.  "I know enough to know both your not-so-little bodyguards have left you all alone now," Harry said evenly as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Hermione lingering near the door.  Oh, what Harry wouldn't give for a few moments alone with Malfoy and no one to step in to break up the duel. 

Malfoy's wand arm twitched in a suppressed urge to draw his wand as Malfoy's gaze caught on something just over Harry's shoulder.  Judging from Malfoy's expression, it was either a trick to get Harry to look or it was McGonagall; Harry was betting on the latter. 

"Mister Malfoy?" McGonagall's curt voice called out then to confirm his suspicions.  "I'd like to have a word with you concerning your marks for last term in my course."

Malfoy immediately made to protest.  "I have class next, Professor.  Potions--Professor Snape does not tolerate tardiness." 

McGonagall didn't seem persuaded.  "Yet you've still decided to linger here after the bell...  Up here, now.  I want a word and Professor Snape can just make due.  Potter, move along." 

Once out in the corridors, Hermione pulled Harry to her and asked, "What was all that about?"

"With Malfoy?"

"Yes!  Since when do you try to get chatty with him?"

Harry shrugged and leaned in to whisper, "Just trying my Legilimency skills when I get the chance."

"Oh!" she said as her eyes widened.  "Did it work?" Hermione inquired eagerly as they descended a stairwell that led down to the dungeons. 

Harry made a face and his shoulders slumped.  "Not really.  He looked away before I could see anything." 

Hermione's posture mimicked Harry's disappointment.  "Well," she said, "perhaps next class, you can ask McGonagall to partner you with Malfoy and you can chat him up and stare at each other the entire class period."

Harry pulled an even more disgusted face at that and bumped Hermione with his hip playfully.  "Now that's just cruel and unusual punishment."   He then leaned in again to tell Hermione about the owl McGonagall had received.  Despite the fact they were just turning into the dreaded Potions lab, Hermione smiled brightly at this news.

Of course, this only put Snape in a decidedly sour mood. 

"If the golden love couple of Gryffindor would kindly find their seats..." he intoned effectively wiping the smile off of Hermione's face.  "Excellent," he said with a sneer as Harry and Hermione parted towards their tables on either side of the room.   "Ah, yes, and five points from Gryffindor for each Potter and Granger...for making the rest of us suffer your simpering over one another."

Harry scowled as he took his seat beside Padma and a smug Millicent Bulstrode.  "We were not simpering," he muttered crossly.  Then, finding their fourth member of their lab group missing, asked out loud, "Where's Tracey?"

Millicent smirked and said, "What's it to you, Potter?  One less Slytherin to deal with.  Now, if only we could get rid of some of the real filth around here."  This last comment was said as she shot a nasty, sidelong glance towards Hermione who seemed to be getting a very cold shoulder from her two Slytherin group mates. 

Harry ignored Millicent and looked to Padma.  "Where is she?  Did she drop?" 

Padma just shrugged and then threw a significant glance over Harry's shoulder.  Harry turned and saw Snape watching him disdainfully. 

"Now...if Potter has sufficiently satiated his curiosity, perhaps we can actually begin class?  As even our most obtuse celebrity has deduced, we are missing a few students and shall not be graced with their return." 

Harry tried to look about and noticed there was one group that only had two people in it where, previously it'd had three.  Pansy Parkinson and Mandy Brocklehurst sat alone and at opposite ends of their table. 

Snape went on, "Therefore, I will rearrange the class to compensate for the group that has lost two members since class began.  Miss Bulstrode?" he said as he paused in the center of Mandy and Pansy's table.  "If you would move to join Miss Parkinson and Miss Brocklehurst, please?"

Harry looked around at each of the four lab groups; two of which originally had three members.  With Millicent leaving him and Padma, that now made for three of the groups to consist of three people each; all except for Harry and Padma, that is, who went from four members last term to only two now remaining. 

"That's not fair," Harry whispered under his breath to Padma. 

Snape spoke over Harry's whispering and said, "Perhaps some might not recall that this group," he said as he tapped where Millicent now sat, smiling cattily at Pansy, "originally held four members.  Mister Weasley left us without any effort to exert his meagre skills and now, Mister Li has left this group as well.  They've lost two people and I've decided to move one person from another group that started with four members to aid this now-depleted group."

Padma's hand shot into the air in Hermione-like fashion.  "Professor Snape?  Sir—will we—"

Snape continued to talk over her as he said, "All groups are required to do the same work.  Life is not always brimming with equity, Miss Patil.  I suggest you learn that lesson here where it's merely overcome by increased diligence." 

And with that, Padma slumped back into her chair and sighed heavily as Snape began lecturing on alternative preparations of doxy venom. 

Snape had rarely lectured for so long in a NEWT Potions class and, at first, Harry thought it was because he didn't trust them all to brew anything on their first day back from holiday.  However, with only a half-hour remaining of class time, Harry found out exactly what Snape's motive had been. 

"And now," Snape announced as he popped the fob on a black pocket watch, "each group shall prepare the Paralysis Potion.  With half an hour, that should just be enough time for a group of three to finish if you each work together efficiently.  Begin." 

Harry and Padma were reluctant to even try since it sounded like they wouldn't finish anyway.  However, Harry could just imagine Snape's gloating voice if Harry failed to give 'any effort to exert his meagre skills'.  He knew he'd be kicked out of Potions before he could throw a flobberworm at the greasy git. 

"Come on," he said in an undertone to Padma.  "We can't let him get to us." 

Padma nodded and then they proceeded to create a slicing, dicing and shredding assembly line that resulted in them actually just finishing just as the class ended.  They didn't get full points though because the color was more puce than pea green, but Harry saw this as evidence that Snape was just brassed off they'd completed the potion.  And if he had any doubt about this, it was cemented when Snape paused before moving on to the next cauldron and said, "Oh, and five points from Gryffindor for making me wait to start class, Potter.  And five from Ravenclaw, Patil, for questioning a professor." 

Harry and Padma both left class in ill-tempered moods and Harry almost bit off Hermione's head when she came up to them in the corridor and said, "Well at least neither of you have to endure working with Millicent Bulstrode any longer.  That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh, sure," Harry said bitterly.  "It's wonderful we get to do all the work of three people!"

Hermione frowned as Harry snapped at her.  "But you said Millicent hardly ever did anything besides boss the rest of you around?"

"Sure," Padma said.  "But Tracey helped and she knew what she was doing."

Harry gave Padma a sharp look.  "You mean I don't know what I'm doing?"

Padma took a deep breath and said, "Look, this does no good if you and I start getting at each other's throats.  I didn't mean anything by it, Harry.  It's just so—"she made a growl of frustration and then said, "You're right, we can't let Snape get to us.  We're going to have work hard, is all.  Now about that project..."

~

As Harry walked Hermione to her Arithmancy class after lunch, Hermione asked, "Don't you wonder why Tracey and Su weren't in classes this morning?"  She leaned over and whispered, "I noticed they were both missing in Transfiguration when I overheard Michael Corner telling Anthony Goldstein that Su Li's family left the country because of the threat of Voldemort.  His mother was muggleborn and they had family abroad.  Goldstein wasn't even convinced they got out of the country." 

Harry reminded her what he'd overheard McGonagall say the previous day about Slytherin losing so many students and asked, "Do you think Tracey left school then, too?"

Hermione looked furtively over her shoulder to make sure no one could overhear and then whispered, "I'm not sure, but...well, what if she was muggleborn?  Oh, maybe that's ridiculous but isn't it possible?"

"What, that there's some muggleborns in Slytherin?  You're not really asking that, are you?" Harry said with an incredulous look. 

Hermione looked like that was exactly what she was asking. 

"Hermione," Harry said with an air of certainty, "have you forgotten that we know of at least one Slytherin who had a muggle for a father?  Not even a muggleborn, but a muggle!" 

"Oh, Harry!  I think the Hat might make an exception for Tom Riddle!  His mother was an heir of Slytherin!" Hermione countered.  "Didn't you hear the Hat last year?  It told us that Slytherin chose those only pure in blood."

"Then why are you even asking?" Harry inquired.  "If you're telling me it's impossible that a muggleborn could get sorted there, then why suggest it?  Why didn't you just ask Blaise or Daphne in class about Tracey?  They were both in your potions group." 

Hermione gave Harry a dejected look and said, "Because neither of them could say more than, 'Dice the mallow root, please,' and Malfoy kept making rude comments about me so I know he was watching us." 

"Well," Harry said as they approached the door to the Arithmancy classroom.  "Malfoy is always a nosy little ferret."  He put an arm around her waist then and pulled Hermione close for a quick kiss goodbye.  "You know, I don't see why you just don't go ask the Sorting Hat."

"What?  You can do that?" Hermione asked as she looked as if she wanted to sprint all the way to the Headmaster's office and demand to speak with the Hat that very moment. 

Harry shrugged.  "I don't see why not.  You're going to be late, you know..." 

"Remind me to ask about the Hat later!" she said as she heard the bell begin to ring and dashed across the corridor, into her classroom. 

~

~

Harry steered clear of returning to the Common Room for fear of running into Ron.  Instead, he spent the afternoon in the library looking for books on self-transfiguration or Metamorphmagi despite the fact that Madam Pince seemed to be watching Harry awful closely.  No matter which table he switched to, she always seemed to be keeping her hawk-like eyes upon him.  It made him wonder if perhaps she somehow knew exactly what he and Hermione had gotten up to in the Restricted Section just a few days earlier. 

Dinnertime couldn't arrive soon enough and when it finally did, Harry was elated to see Professor Dumbledore, a starred, plum-coloured hat atop his head, present in the center of the head table. 

Harry wasn't the only one excited to see the Headmaster; the chatter among the other students was increased now and Hermione leaned over to say, "I bet everyone is excited because if Dumbledore is back here, then he's done leading the investigations.  There will be news in the Daily Prophet tomorrow, for sure!"

Ginny slid in then beside Hermione and asked in a whisper, "Do you and Harry get more info than the rest of us while you're at school?  You know, because you're in the...you know?" 

Hermione looked to Harry before she said, "Well..."

Ginny waved her concern off.  "I'm not going to demand you tell me everything.  Although it would be nice," she said with a grin.  "But—no, I'm just wondering, if Dumbledore or anyone else gives you information on the whole affair with Percy, can you let me know?" 

"Oh, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall would tell both you and Ron right away if there was news on Percy," Hermione said emphatically. 

Indeed, Hermione was correct because just as she finished saying this, Professor McGonagall walked up behind them and said, "Miss Weasley, the headmaster would like to see both you and your brother in the antechamber off the Great Hall.  Just follow Mister Potter and Miss Granger when they leave after dinner."

Part of Harry was quite happy that Ron could finally feel like he was being specially treated and given knowledge of secrets from Dumbledore himself.  The other half of Harry couldn't stop wanting to chuck his jacket-potato at Ron's head after Ginny made him sit down across from her before she'd tell him what McGonagall had said. 

Ginny had only told him that the four of them were to go to meet with Professor Dumbledore after dinner.  At hearing this, Ron shot the space just to the side of Harry a very nasty scowl. 

"How are Bill and Fleur?" Hermione asked Ginny in an effort to ignore Ron's behaviour. 

"Oh, good," Ginny said giving Ron a dirty look when he'd stabbed into a sausage with such force, some of the juices had squirted out and spattered Ginny's face.  "Fleur has a brilliant knack for home decorating charms.  Their flat is adorable now.  It used to just be a dusty, dull flat just like all the rest.  Mum used to have to Floo over there at least once a week to make sure bundimuns didn't get into the baseboards.  Bill used to be a right slob, just like the twins.  But Fleur now has it looking like some flat out of Witch Weekly.  Mum's still not real chuffed about them living together and I think she's jealous that, with Fleur, Bill doesn't need her as often."

"Well that's ridiculous," Hermione said.  "I mean Bill lived all on his own for how many years and all the way out in Egypt!  Does she think he can't take care of himself?"

At this statement, Ron addressed his water goblet and said, "Maybe it's not so much what someone does or doesn't need, but that sometimes, people just like to feel wanted." 

Hermione's mouth gaped at this and Harry couldn't fail to grasp the true meaning of Ron's comment.  Immediately, Harry countered, "You're wanted.  And friends do need each other.  Is that what you think?  That we don't want you any more?"  Harry laughed humourlessly at this and added, "Although, when you're acting a great prat, I'd say no one wants to be around that!"

Ron still wouldn't look at either Harry or Hermione but did seem to have a case of red ears as he ripped a dinned roll in half and began buttering it with vigour.  "You just had to go and say that last part, didn't you, Potter?" Ron said in a tightly controlled voice.  "You couldn't leave it at just an apology, could you?"

"Apology?!" Harry said indignantly as his voice rose so high it cracked.  "You have some nerve, Weasley, thinking I owe you an apology!"

"Harry," Hermione tried to restrain him as he leaned forward across the table and pointed a finger at Ron accusingly. 

But Harry wasn't stopping and Ron's face was only growing redder. 

"How about the apology that you owe Hermione?!" Harry shouted now as the anger surged through his veins. 

"Harry..."

"How about your apology for going off on the host in the middle of a Celebration?!"  Harry wasn't even seated anymore as he'd leaned across the table, snarling at Ron. 

Ron countered, "How about you two deciding to hook up and nevermind telling old third-wheel-Ron because he's so dim he'd probably never even notice even if we snogged across his lap?!"

"How about how you deciding to abandon Hermione's friendship of FIVE YEARS just because she wasn't interested?!"  Harry shouted.  Everyone in the hall was watching by now. 

"HOW ABOUT YOU--STANDING UP IN FRONT OF MY ENTIRE FAMILY AND TELLING THEM ALL OFF, HUH?!  YOU'RE JUST AS ARROGANT AS SNAPE ALWAYS SAYS!" 

Harry felt the color drain from his face and was distantly aware that both he and Ron were standing up in the middle of a packed Great Hall.  In a low voice, with his heart pounding, Harry spat, "You jealous, envious, vengeful--"

Hermione's fed-up cry of, "Silencio!" cut off Harry's last word.  Unfortunately, it did little to muffle the sound of Ron's reply. 

"OH, YEAH?  'Cuz I want to be Harry bloody Potter!  Right!" Ron said with a disgusted look.  "Just forget it.  At best, I'm just part of your adoring little fan club and I'm sick of it."

"Ron," Ginny tried to interject as the drama continued to play out in front of everyone.

"I'm sick of your secrets, Harry.  I'm sick of everything about you.  I don't care if you've got some damn sacred prophecy that declares you the one and only hope of the entire Wizarding world against an eternity under You-Know-Who, I still--DON'T NEED YOU AS A FRIEND!!"

This last pronouncement rang across the stunned Great Hall and reverberated in Harry's mind.  The only audible sound he registered was the clatter and clink of silverware on a plate and the steadily approaching sound of footsteps on the stone floor. 

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall said in a shaking voice as she cowed Ron with her most disapproving look.  "All of you," she said as she looked from Harry, to Hermione, and then to Ginny.  "Follow me."

Harry was only vaguely aware of his feet moving forward; one step after another as he followed along behind Hermione.  The look on McGonagall's face as she held open the door for each of them was unfathomable and just before the door could close, he heard the distinct cackle of Malfoy's laughter. 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

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