(A/N: This chapter is co-dedicated to Nalini213 and my geo professor, who made it possible for the chapter to go up today by, respectively, inspiring me to write it and giving me the afternoon off lab so I could write it. Glad to have you back, Nalini!)

Chapter 15: Friendly Gestures

"Mission accomplished," declared Angelina as she Apparated in the grove outside Goldenrod. "Hermione even left the Headmaster a little remembrance gift."

"Redid his office in a Gryffindor motif," Alicia said gleefully. "Spectacular. Oh, and here, Harry." She handed him a sheaf of forms relating to one Helen Dursley, which she had filched from Lutch's desk.

"Thanks, Alicia." Harry began examining the papers, handing each sheet to Ginny as he finished it. "Hmm, no privileges, any and all reasonable punishments, really now... Oh, I like this one. She's supposed to have no visitors at all, not even immediate family."

"Oh dear," said Ginny in an innocent tone. "We seem to have violated the Dursleys' wishes. How dreadful of us."

"Speaking of the Dursleys, does that car look familiar to anyone else?" asked Bill, peering out one side of the glade.

There was a stampede to the edge of the trees that overlooked the road.

"It's so perfect," George said in a tone of wonder.

"You'd think we'd custom-ordered it," said Fred.

"Knowing them, they probably did," Ginny muttered to Harry.

"Charlie, Percy, as soon as that car clears the gates, close 'em up tight," Ron said. "Bill, you lock it. Dad, you think you can disrupt the ekeltricity? Knock out their phones and such?"

"With pleasure, son." Arthur Weasley rolled his shoulders and took careful aim at the school.

"No, wait," said Hermione. "Surge the power first. Give the system more than it can handle. Then shut it down for a few seconds, then let it run normally. That'll kill anything delicate they have, like phones or computers, without blowing out all the lights. Remember, those dorms haven't any windows."

"See, this is why I married you," Ron said in a tone of admiration. "You think of everything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."

Everyone considerately looked away.

-----

Dudley Dursley drove through the gates of Goldenrod Academy in a shower of flying gravel.

They slammed shut behind him.

Dudley hit the brakes and turned, with an effort, to look at the gates. They appeared to have closed entirely on their own, since there were no motors, no wires attached to them. They were just simple chain-link doors on hinges.

There was no way they could have slammed like that on their own.

More worried now than ever, Dudley found a place to park. His compulsion to get to Goldenrod was beginning to wane now that he was here. What, after all, could he do here that their own highly competent staff couldn't do better?

"Daaaaad," whined Chester, "can we please go home? I'm hungry. We never had lunch."

"I'm sure they have kitchens here," said Marcie, nervous and trying to calm herself by petting Chester. "We'll find you something, Chester love, never you worry."

Dudley got out and went over to the gates to look at them. His discomfort increased greatly when he saw the rather ostentatiously large padlock attached to them. The padlock which hadn't been there a moment ago. And there was no cover for yards in any direction from the gate. Someone would have had to run flat out, bung the thing on the gates without making any noise, and sprint away again for him not to see them.

Unless... he looked up at a small patch of woods on a gentle hill near the school and suddenly had a horrid thought. Unless they were here already.

-----

"He's looking directly at us," said Percy in a thoughtful tone. "It would be unfriendly not to acknowledge him."

-----

A red-haired figure stepped out of the grove of trees and waved at Dudley. It was followed a moment later by one with long dark hair, and then others began to step out of the trees, about half red-headed, the other half brown-haired, grayish, silvery-blond –

With a shudder, Dudley recognized his cousin's untidy black crop off to one side, right beside a brown bush of hair and flanked by two red messes, one longer than the other. And unless he was seeing things, which he devoutly hoped, every one of those people was grinning and cheerily waving at him.

He turned away and stared up at the school. I was right. They're here.

There are times when you just don't want to be right.

-----

Shannon Docson, Professor of Maths, had just picked up the telephone and put it to her ear when something very odd occurred. Instead of a dial tone, she seemed to hear a man's voice saying, "Dynamis Insurgis!"

And then she was lying on the floor in a darker-than-usual hallway, wondering dimly why her hand hurt.

She rolled over stiffly and looked at it. There was a reddening outline of a telephone receiver imprinted on it.

She looked for the receiver. It was gone. The telephone cord ended in a frayed spurt of wires, and there were pieces of plastic and metal all over the hallway floor. One of the bulbs in the light panel over her head must also have shattered – she could see the pieces of glass inside the plastic cover – and the other was flickering.

Something is severely wrong here.

She picked herself up off the floor, slowly, and started for the Headmaster's Office. Tom Lutch would answer for this, or she would know the reason why.

-----

Helen was sitting on her bed, reading. Three of the other girls who lived in the room were also there, talking quietly and casting wary looks her way. She didn't know where the other two were. Probably still in the Infirmary, if the Limping Lozenges hadn't worn off yet.

She became aware of a humming noise. It seemed to be coming from the ceiling lights. And the room was getting brighter every second.

Then the lights went out entirely. The other girls shouted, and at least one of them tried to get up, as Helen heard a thud and a curse. She remained where she was. There was no danger yet, and she wouldn't hurt herself just sitting still.

The lights came back on. One of the other girls was lying, moaning, on the floor, hand pressed to her head, with blood trickling out from under it. The other two girls hurried over to her. One of them helped her friend sit up, talking to her quietly, and the other hurried out of the room, probably to get some water from the washroom.

I probably shouldn't do this... But Helen hated seeing anyone in pain. She dug through her bag until she found what she was looking for, then slid off her bed and joined the other girls on the floor.

"I have some stuff that could help you feel better," she said tentatively, showing the hurt girl a pair of wrapped lollipops.

"Why should I trust you, witch?" snapped the girl.

"These are exactly the same. You pick one and I'll eat it. You eat the other. That way you know they're not poison."

The girl wavered, but it was obvious the cut on her head hurt a lot. "No tricks? You swear?"

"Witch's honor," Helen said.

"You eat that one, then," said the girl, touching one of the candies.

Helen unwrapped it and stuck it in her mouth. After waiting a moment to prove nothing was happening, she offered the other one to the girl, who pulled off the paper and dubiously began to suck on it.

Within a few seconds, she smiled. "Hey, it works!"

"Soothing Suckers. I love them. They really helped the time my brother knocked me over with his broomstick."

The girl laughed, assuming Helen was joking, but she wasn't. Sirius had shown the Potter aptitude for flying at a young age, and he was crazy about Quidditch, but instead of being a Chaser like his mum or a Seeker like his dad, he had only ever wanted to play Beater. As a result, he practiced flying close to everyone, pretending they were Bludgers, and one day he had flown a little too close to Helen. Oooh, wasn't Mum mad... she confiscated his broom for three weeks...

"Why'd you do that?" the other girl asked, breaking into Helen's thoughts. "Help me, I mean. After we were mean to you."

"Well..." Helen shrugged. "Even if I'm not staying, I'd rather have friends than enemies."

The other girl smiled weakly. "No hard feelings, then?"

"No hard feelings," Helen agreed.

"I'm Marie." The girl spit in her hand and extended it.

"Helen." Helen spit in her own hand.

They shook.

-----

(A/N: OK, so I'm a big liar about updates, but I love writing this stuff. Being away from my computer for a day and a half is probably going to annoy me greatly as I think up zillions of new plot lines and ideas.

Lady Cinnibar: Sugar highs are fun. I tend to agree on the topic of werewolves – it was one of the only things I didn't like about movie #3. Thanks for the opinion.

athenakitty: No, no more kids for Dudley. One little Dursley is quite enough.

Gyre: Thanks for the opinion. I'm quite looking forward to writing the Dursleys' reaction to a werewolf.

CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Are you a major night owl, or are you in a different time zone than I am? (Eastern) B/c when you review at 3 AM saying you're just going to bed...

Kraeg001: Thanks. They need to be, to deal with Weasley men!

Nalini213: And you call yourself a HP fan... tsk tsk tsk. Blood isn't everything. So no, Helen is Dudley and Marcie's blood daughter (Ch.11). The reason she turned out the way she did is because Harry and Ginny got to her in time. It was only half chance that Harry found out about it – he had been keeping an eye on the Dursley children ever since he got the word (through Mrs. Figg, of course) that one of them looked like his mother (Ch. 6).

Marcie told Dudley what to say – she's the brains of that family (Ch. 8). Don't miss the names in Chapter 7 – there's only 2, but one of them is a little sneaky – and don't fret it, there's no rush since no one else seems interested, or smart enough, to figure out the names (Ch. 9). Thank you for all your compliments, you're very perceptive (Ch. 13), and finally, you're making a big assumption – that Chester can think at all (Ch. 12).

I think Resonance will be taking most of my time after I finish Home, but you never know...

Thanks everyone! Surprise me with lots of reviews when I get back on Saturday!)