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XIXIX "Psychological Warfare" XIXIX
By the end of the first week after winter break, Harry began to notice graffiti magicked onto the bathroom walls. The handwriting was never the same, but the message was.
Harry Potter killed Cedric Diggory.
Students who tried found it exceedingly difficult to cover or erase the message, so it was often followed by responses stating that only an idiot would believe that; only an idiot would deny that You-Know-Who had returned.
Coinciding with the appearance of this graffiti was the new fad amongst the Slytherins of whispering "Cedric Diggory" whenever they saw Harry, just loud enough for him to hear.
"Ignore them, mate," said Ron, in an uncharacteristically calm reaction. "No one believes it. They're just trying to get to you."
It was working.
Harry began having nightmares again of the night Cedric died. He saw the green flash, and then Cedric dropped. He was bound, and then watched as his own blood participated in the resurrection of Voldemort.
After reliving this horrific event every night in fitful sleep, Harry never felt rested. He moved through the halls of Hogwarts in a consistently bad mood. He developed dark circles under his eyes so that he looked like he was scowling even when he wasn't.
"What gives, Harry? You look like the walking dead." Ginny sat down next to him in the Great Hall one day at lunch, dropping her books with a heavy thud on the seat next to her.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"If you're fine, then I'm Wanda the Wonderful. Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?"
Harry looked down at his untouched plate. He wasn't eating much lately either.
"He's upset that Malfoy's still a twit," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as she slid into the seat across from Harry.
Harry looked up angrily at her.
"You're not really?" asked Ginny, like she couldn't believe it.
"No, I'm not really," said Harry, glaring at Hermione.
"Yes you are, Harry. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You got your hopes up that the truce would last, because you're a decent person and you were willing to uphold it. But Malfoy's just not. There's nothing to be done about it."
"She's right, Harry. If you let yourself be disappointed every time Malfoy acts like an arse, you might as well just kill yourself now, rather than suffer a lifetime of depression." She and Hermione laughed. Harry faked a smile.
"But regardless, you need to eat more," said Ginny. "I don't know how you live, since you never seem to ingest any sustenance."
"And Ron tells me you're not sleeping either," said Hermione.
"Oh, does Ron tell you that now?!" demanded Harry.
"Yes, Ron told me—but everyone knows. You wake your roommates up at night with your nightmares, you know."
"Did you ever consider just getting a dreamless sleep potion?"
Harry threw up his hands. "Hey, what IS this?! Have you two appointed yourselves my new mothers or something?! I mean, give me a break!" He pushed his plate away and made to stand up.
"Harry, sit!" commanded Hermione.
"Or you're grounded!" added Ginny.
Then they burst into a fit of giggles. Harry slumped his shoulders and looked from one to the other, utterly bewildered.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," said Ron, clapping Harry on the back. "What's up with them?" he asked, motioning to the two giggling girls.
Harry shook his head. "No idea." Ron sat down on Harry's other side and looked up at Harry expectantly. Harry shrugged and sat back down.
Ron was still filling his plate when Professor McGonagall swept up to the table. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Weasley, will you come with me to the Headmaster's office?" She looked troubled, and immediately the group's faces fell to anxiety. "And I suspect you two should come as well," she said to Harry and Hermione.
The four stood up from their unfinished meal and followed their Head of House to Professor Dumbledore's office in a cold silence.
Harry's heart was heavy within him. It felt like lead, beating slow, pounding in his ears. Something must have happened to someone, and the fact that Ron and Ginny were asked for first signified to Harry that it was one of the Weasleys.
They stood in front of a stone gargoyle while Professor McGonagall mumbled "Gummy Worms". The gargoyle swung aside to reveal the stairs to the Headmaster's office. The few seconds it took to mount the staircase seemed to Harry to last a lifetime.
"Please, have a seat," suggested Professor Dumbledore to the deathly quiet Gryffindors. "No one is hurt," he added.
The group let out a collective sigh, and each chose a squashy chair to sit in.
Dumbledore regarded them gravely. "But I am afraid that I have disturbing news. The Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop on Diagon Alley was attacked and destroyed in the night. The Dark Mark was in the sky above it this morning. No one was hurt in the attack, since Diagon Alley was pretty well closed down, but I'm afraid your brothers' shop has been obliterated."
Ginny looked at Ron with a pained face. "Poor Fred and George. That shop was their dream."
"Why would they do that?" Ron shook his head. "Well, they're not going to keep the Weasleys down. Fred and George have to have enough in the bank to be able to rebuild."
Ginny agreed. "In a few weeks, it will be like nothing ever happened. Those dark sons of bitches wasted their time—oh, sorry, Professors." Ginny looked down, flushing bright red.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I'm sorry," he said with a smile, "But I don't speak French." Professor McGonagall, however, looked stern once again.
Harry was relieved that the news was no worse than it was, but something was troubling him that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Hermione spoke up. "Professor Dumbledore, sir? Why did they do it? I mean, I'm thankful that was all they did, but destructive vandalism really isn't the Death Eater's, uh, style."
That was it. Harry turned to Dumbledore expectantly.
Dumbledore was grave once again. "That is very astute of you, Ms. Granger. And I'm afraid you have good reason to ask." He looked at Harry sadly for a moment before continuing. "A message was left among the ruins of the shop." He paused again, not wanting to say it aloud.
"What was it?" asked Ginny quietly.
"'For you, Harry Potter.' "
XIXIX
Harry felt as though someone was reaching into his chest and calmly squeezing his heart. There was pain all day long now—a mental pain that manifested itself physically. He was always tired. He was always nauseous. His body always ached. And his chest always hurt.
Several days after the attack at Diagon Alley, Angelina Johnson was attacked after a game. Angelina was caught off-guard, being in a semi-crowded area. She was not killed, and in fact, a crowd of very protective fans drove off her attackers. But she did spend four days in St. Mungo's Recovery Ward.
Again, a Dark Mark tainted the sky over the site of the attack, but this time, the words 'For you, Harry Potter' were in the sky with the mark. The picture of the Dark Mark with the message for Harry was splattered all over the Daily Prophet.
Even while she was in St. Mungo's, Angelina released a statement that she was good friends with Harry and supported him fully, especially if "those Death Eater morons" were going to attempt to defame him by placing his name next to that "disgusting symbol of idiocy."
Chuddley Cannons fans from all over similarly came out in support of Harry.
A week later, Oliver Wood was attacked. Two days later, Katie Bell. Each time the Dark Mark and the message marked the site of the attack.
Harry realized immediately that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were going after anyone who was at all close to Harry, and who was within their reach. Dumbledore protected the students at Hogwarts, so Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, as well as the rest of his classmates, were safe. However, graduated friends and members of the Order were now apparently at a higher risk of attack.
Because they knew Harry.
Harry requested that Professor Dumbledore assign members of the Order to guard Hermione's parents at all times. They were both muggles, and would not be able to protect themselves at all during an attack. It would be pretty low of the Death Eaters to go after them, but they had a history of attacking muggles, so Harry didn't put it past them. Dumbledore responded with a twinkling smile that it had already been taken care of.
Harry wondered if it would bother Hermione if he told her this, or relieve her. He opted to say nothing, figuring she was a very intelligent person, and may in fact have been the one to originally suggest it. If so, she had probably opted not to tell Harry so as not to hurt his feelings.
For Hermione's part, she took it upon herself to resurrect the DA, even though (or perhaps especially because) Defense Against the Dark Arts had been temporarily removed from the course requirements of Hogwarts.
Cornelius Fudge, with the aid of one Percy Weasley, had managed to pass legislation through the Ministry that the Defense Against the Dark Arts class would be suspended indefinitely while a Ministry Task Force reviewed the potential danger of the class. After reinstating Dumbledore as Headmaster last year, Fudge pulled Ministry control out of Hogwarts in all ways except this one.
Of the five Defense professors Harry had had in five years, two had been secret supporters of Voldemort, one had been a professional liar, one had been an ineffective teacher/spy planted by Fudge himself, and one, the only decent Defense teacher to date, had been Professor Lupin, a werewolf. Fudge was determined to discover if this class was a dangerous tool used by Death Eaters to get their hands on the students of Hogwarts. He was also determined to ensure that Dumbledore knew that, as Minister of Magic, Fudge had the upper hand.
The DA was Dumbledore's Army, a previously secret club founded last year when Fudge's spy threatened to ruin her students' chances of ever attaining Defense O.W.L.S. or N.E.W.T.S. by being such a dreadfully inept teacher. Harry taught the group Defense Against the Dark Arts, since he was the student with the most personal experience in the field.
Harry was not sure he wanted to again take on the extra pressure of ensuring that the 54 students who had expressed interest were trained for a fight against Death Eaters. But the way he saw, it needed to be done, and there was no one else available for the job.
At the first meeting, they decided to meet once during the week, and once on the weekend if possible. They reviewed a few simple defensive spells, but Harry spent most of the first day correcting wand work and explaining the mechanics of a good defensive stance during a duel.
He kept thinking of the night last year that he led members of the DA into a fight against full-grown Death Eaters. As he watched Hermione review the disarming spell, he remembered her lying on the floor. He remembered fearing she was dead. He remembered Sirius coming to his rescue. He remembered chasing Bellatrix LaStrange straight into Lord Voldemort. He remembered Dumbledore's showdown with Voldemort. He remembered Sirius falling through the curtain.
Harry found that holding the memories at bay so he could focus on the class was exceedingly exhausting.
As he left the Room of Requirement with the other members of the DA, Harry noticed a group of first year Slytherins huddled together down the hall. They looked harmless enough, but when Harry saw them, he had a very bad feeling. Exhausted as he was, he hardly slept that night.
XIXIX
The next day Harry walked into Divination with the full intention of lying down in the classroom-turned-night-forest and sleeping through Firenze's lecture. This would be easy to do without Firenze noticing, because as soon as his class began, he always looked up at the "sky", and didn't look back down again until the bell rang.
But just as Harry was beginning to get comfortable, he heard a most odious whispered drawl from about ten feet away. "Psst. Hey, Potter. Potter!"
A muffled chuckle told Harry that Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson were in on whatever Malfoy had to say to Harry. He kept his eyes closed, hoping he looked like he was already asleep so that Malfoy would just leave him alone.
"Potter!" Malfoy hissed. "Potter, wake up! I have a message for you—Christopher Billings says that he has something... For you, Harry Potter."
'Shit, shit, shit,' thought Harry. 'It can't have started here, too.'
His blood ran cold, knowing that some Slytherins, possibly even sixth year Malfoy, had attacked the third year Gryffindor who was both on the Quidditch team and a new member of the DA. Harry tried to hold in his trembling, tried to keep Malfoy from knowing he had gotten to him—in any way.
He lay with his eyes closed all during Divination class, neither sleeping nor absorbing any of Firenze's ambiguous words. As soon as the bell rang, he yawned and stood up groggily, pretending for Malfoy's sake to have been asleep the whole time. But when he stepped out into the hall, he pulled Ron aside.
"We've got to find Christopher," he said. "The Slytherins have attacked him."
Ron and Harry hurried through the halls, gathering more and more DA members in their search party as the minutes passed. Someone finally found him in the corner of an abandoned classroom of the North Tower. He was unconscious and covered with painful lacerations. His wand had been snapped.
XIXIX
Madam Pomfrey said Christopher would be okay, but he would need to stay in the infirmary for a day or two. Harry visited him as soon as he was conscious again, with a large bundle of pastries from the house elves in the kitchen.
"Who was it?" he asked the bedridden Christopher.
"Harry, I really don't know. I was walking to class. I thought I was alone in the hall, but then I heard a voice behind me and I felt my skin opening up all over me. The pain was awful. I... I don't remember anything after that."
"You didn't fight back? But your wand was snapped."
Christopher shook his head angrily. "They must have done it after I passed out."
Harry was shaking with outrage. He didn't want to, but he had to say it. "Christopher, this was because of me, you know. I'll understand if you want to resign from the team and from the DA." He couldn't even look Christopher in the eye as he said it.
But Christopher would have no part of that. "Harry, Quidditch is my life. And as far as the DA goes—this is exactly why I need it. You're not kicking me out, are you?!"
Harry looked at the boy sitting in the hospital bed with pink streaks across his face where new skin was growing. His fists were clenched and his face determined. Harry had to smile. "Of course not, Christopher. I just meant—"
"Forget what you meant. I'm not dropping out and that's final!"
Madam Pomfrey rushed in to see what all the commotion was, and commenced with shooing Harry out so that Christopher could rest. Harry let her, but not before leaning over to Christopher and whispering to him that he had asked Dobby, a House Elf friend of his, to pay a visit to Christopher and make sure he had everything he wanted while he recovered. Christopher smiled and said slyly, "See? You're worth keeping as a friend."
XIXIX
"They attacked him from behind?!" screamed Ron in the Gryffindor common room. "And THEN snapped his wand?!
Outraged voices called for blood. The Slytherins were not going to get away with this.
Harry sat back and quietly stewed while the entire Gryffindor House minus one debated over what needed to be done to avenge Christopher. It was only a matter of time before the conversation turned back to him.
This was because of him, after all.
He sat angrily, listening to the crowd scream its indignation. He prepared his defense for when the time came for him to speak again. He prepared to offer his blessing to anyone who wanted out—out of the DA, out of any association with Harry at all. He prepared for when all of the fury boiling in the room turned on him.
But he never got a chance to express all the things he was prepared to express.
"Why Christopher, anyway?" shouted out a third year. "He doesn't have any enemies—not even in Slytherin."
"They're trying to get to Harry," said Neville. "It's the same as that Dark Mark crap that's been going on." There were murmurs of assent. Harry silently cursed Neville for being the one to bring up his name.
"Well, if they were trying to get Harry, they have really bad aim," said Ginny. A few people laughed. Harry was glad to hear Ginny try to diffuse the situation for him.
"It doesn't matter the reason they attacked Christopher," said Colin Creevy, sticking up for Harry, whom he adored. "They attacked him, and we need to get them back!" His words were greeted by yells of agreement. Harry thought for a second that he might be off the hook after all. Then Hermione stepped forward and said the last thing he would ever expect her to say.
"But it DOES matter the reason," she stated firmly, quieting the room. Harry's heart began to pound. "It matters for several reasons. Firstly, if Christopher was attacked because of someone's vendetta against Harry, then it's even worse than if his own enemies attacked him. And the fact that the vendetta is probably an offshoot of—let's face it—Lord Voldemort's," almost everyone winced or groaned at the name, "Makes it a million times worse!"
"These guys are sucking up to their Death Eater parents with this attack!" shouted someone in the back. The Gryffindors roared in anger.
"But another thing," yelled Hermione over the crowd as the volume slowly died back down. "If they attacked Christopher to get to Harry, then we have every reason to believe that more attacks will occur against anyone who is associated with Harry." The volume in the room rose again. Hermione yelled over them. "That's the Quidditch team, the members of the DA, and EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!"
Voices trailed off as everyone in Harry's House looked at each other, realizing they were all potential targets.
"We can be fairly sure," continued Hermione, "That Christopher was attacked by a person, or people, older than himself. I don't mean to offend any of the younger Gryffindors, but the curse he was hit with is fairly sophisticated and requires a stronger amount of magic than any third year could have." The room murmured their agreement. "If the attacks continue, no one should expect a fair fight. This means that no member of Gryffindor House should be alone until this is sorted out. And, I think Harry will agree, members of the Quidditch team and the DA may want to be especially careful for now."
The Gryffindors looked around at each other, talking, planning on who would walk with whom where. Ron yelled over the crowd, "And in the meantime, we need to figure out who the bastards were that attacked Christopher!"
"And what we're going to do to them," someone else yelled.
"For that part, Ron, I think you and I should cover our ears," said Hermione.
"Why?"
"We're prefects. We shouldn't know if people in our House are planning on attacking other students."
"Um, in that case, maybe you should also close your eyes so that you don't know if I'm involved or not."
"Well then, maybe you should, too," said Hermione with a sly grin.
Neither of them did.
Harry stood up and hugged Hermione long and hard. Ron and Ginny both tried to pretend they weren't watching.
XIXIX
Word of the planned precautions spread to the rest of the DA before breakfast the next morning. It was Saturday, and many of the Gryffindors and other members of the DA spent the morning searching the site of Christopher's attack for clues, and pumping Slytherins for information about who perpetrated the attack.
The morning's efforts produced no leads. The Slytherins were all tight-lipped about the attack. They each feigned ignorance. Harry was disappointed, although he hadn't expected more.
Throughout the day, three more DA members were attacked—two Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff. Each one was attacked from behind while they were alone. By the DA meeting on Sunday afternoon, not a single member of Gryffindor House or the DA could be found alone in the halls.
The meeting began on a sour note. People were angry that their friends were being attacked. They were angry that no one knew for sure who was attacking them. Harry couldn't blame them for this. He was angry too.
"We know Malfoy's behind it, even if he's not the one doing it—we need to get him!"
"That's impossible—he's always surrounded by his Slytherin toadies. We should just start attacking Slytherins at random, the way they're attacking DA members at random."
"That would make us no better than them," said Hermione.
"Well they started this fight, and I'm sick of being the 'better man' here," yelled Seamus.
"And I'm sick of walking around the halls in groups, like I'm afraid to be alone," said Ernie MacMillan haughtily. "We shouldn't have to be afraid here—we're at Hogwarts!"
"Don't think of it as a show of fear," said Ginny. "This is a show of strength. No one can beat us. The DA's too strong! And we're sticking together!" A few yells of agreement rang out.
Harry stood before them. "In the meantime, there are too many people here for me to teach as a single group. Especially now that we've got wee little Death Eaters roaming the halls," A few people laughed at his mocking tone, "We've got to raise the speed and intensity of our training. I want every third year in this room to be able to put up a fight against any sixth or seventh year low enough to attack them."
He split them into nine groups of six—holding a place for Christopher when he returned—and assigned a veteran member of the DA to lead each group. He gave his instructions to the entire group, and then walked around, monitoring their progress, but relying heavily on the group leaders to give more personal instructions to each dueling pair.
Training was going much faster than Thursday night, when Harry had tried to monitor and correct all 54 members by himself. The group was quickly mastering the silencing charm they started the night with. Harry was working with Ron's group when he noticed that the room seemed to go quiet all at once, rather than fading in and out. He looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway with a very grave look on his face.
"Good afternoon, sir," said Harry, walking forward.
"Excuse the interruption. Harry, may I speak with you?"
"Of course." He turned back to the DA. "Continue to work on the silencing charms while I'm gone." He followed Dumbledore into the empty hallway and closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?" he asked, deciding to get right to the point.
"Harry, Remus Lupin was attacked this morning while on duty for the Order. He's alive, but he's in very serious condition at St. Mungo's."
"I understand, sir."
They spoke for several minutes more, but Harry couldn't remember anything beyond those three words. He felt hollow inside—a shell of a person. "I understand, sir" kept echoing through him.
I understand, sir, that Lupin took on this risk to work with the Order.
I understand, sir, that the healers at St. Mungo's are doing everything they can for him.
I understand, sir, that you're here for me.
Did they talk about those things? Harry couldn't remember. He was blank. He showed no emotion.
I understand, sir, that I may lose my third father in this lifetime.
Harry kept repeating this in his head. And he couldn't understand.
When he came to, he was sitting on his bed and Ginny was talking to him.
"Harry? Are you okay?"
Blank. He felt nothing. "Why aren't you at the meeting?"
"Harry, that was two hours ago. Everyone's at dinner now. I came to check on you."
Empty. He was hollow. "I'm fine. Go to dinner."
"What's wrong?" She sat on the bed next to him and studied his face. "Who is it?"
Shell. He was alone. "Professor Lupin." Tears began to stream down his face. He didn't notice them. "They don't know if he's going to make it."
"Oh, Harry," whispered Ginny. She wiped the tears away with her fingertips. Harry turned to her. She wrapped her arms around him and he curled into her, his head on her shoulder. And he cried.
I understand, sir, that I may lose my third father in this lifetime.
XIXIX
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Author's note: Sorry for the cliffhanger. The chapter told me it wanted to end here. I had to respect its wishes, even though I had had different plans. And thank you for reading! I really thought my only readers would be my friends who were reading to be polite. I appreciate your Draco's being Draco. You know how it is. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
Marilyn,MyBitterness- Hope it gets better! Thanks for the sodomy, and for reading ;)
HPSlashfan4evr- Thanks for coming back! I hope you continue to enjoy it. I want to get things very intense. Happy reading!