Just as he heard the footsteps, he quickly hid himself by swiftly climbing the closest tree- he would never figure out how he climbed so quickly and silently, but he did it just in time. The two figures- which he saw were Dumbledore and Hagrid- both emerged at the same time. Dumbledore was dressed in a tattered green cloak, while Hagrid was still in his usual attire. Both had a saddened look upon their face.

"-Jus' sayin', Professor Dumbledore, that he wouldn't be hidin' in the forest. He'd be smarter 'n that! He's probly' hidin' in Bulgaria or summat foreign…" Hagrid had his crossbow at the ready.

"We can't take chances, Rubeus." Dumbledore said. "What if he was hiding in the forest, and just waiting to spring on the students?"

"Why would 'ee do summat like that?" Hagrid said. "It's not the students 'ee's after, its us!"

"And he will implore any force necessary to get to us." Dumbledore added. "I do not want the students in danger, Hagrid. I don't want them to have to worry."

They were silent for just a few seconds, before; "Professor Dumbledore, what- what happened?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"What do you mean, Hagrid?"

"What happen'd to him? I never understood! Everythin' was fine, more'n fine, he was so happy, he had 'is friends, he was even in love- why, why did he jus' go over t' the dark side an' give it all up?"

It seemed as though he had been wanting to say that for some time. His eyes were almost brimming with tears. Dumbledore's, too, were rather bright.

"I don't know." he said softly. "I don't know. I'll never know, I don't think anyone will."

"He knew better'n anyone that the dark is nuthin' good, but…" Hagrid stopped and pulled out his handkerchief. After blowing his nose and a short silence, he sniffed again and looked to his left, right underneath were Harry was hiding.

"I still think he's hidin' somewhere more creative then the Dark Forest… though, Fudge keeps insistin' we search everywhere, thinks he's after him…" Hagrid gave a snort. "Thinks a lot of himself, that one- like any Dark Wizard valuable to You-Know-Who's going to be goin' after that stooge."

"We don't have time to search every inch of Hogwarts, he couldn't get here if he tried, the barriers are too strong… we need to focus on getting a new teacher that can defend Hogwarts in case something goes wrong… it's harder than ever…" Dumbledore looked the same direction as Hagrid; Harry kept as still as possible and breathed slowly and silently.

"What if we don't find anybody?"

"Then the Ministry will appoint someone- we can't let that happen. It's getting late, let's head back and have lunch before we return." He started off in the direction they had been looking, Hagrid following. Harry's stomach swirled strangely at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten a good meal in… so long.

After Harry counted to two hundred and slid himself out of the tree, he was numbly surprised at how much self-control he was having over his emotions. He was able to subdue them until they were almost… nonexistent.

'Is that a good thing or…' he shook his head at the thought. Such things would lead to him being emotional again… directing his thoughts to something else, he realized what Dumbledore had said- that Hogwarts needed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… well, a new teacher, but Harry had a strong feeling it was Defense Against the Dark Arts, even though he had heard no news of the school in forever, they had never found anybody to keep that job.

"That's it." he breathed to himself, looking high into the canopy of the trees in thought.

"You know what this means?" Sirius said to him abruptly. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," he said.

"Yes…" he said. "But I'm also- I don't know if anyone ever told you- I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that." Harry said.

"Well… your parents appointed me your gaurdian," His voice was rather stiff. "If anything ever happened to them…"

He was silent for a moment.

Thoughts ran through Sirius' head. He had been raised by his aunt and uncle; they must love him and think of him as theirs…

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle, But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Bang- Harry's head hit against a stone hanging from the ceiling. "What- live with you?" He said. "Leave the Dursleys?"

He should have known. Disappointment filled him, though he tried to hide it. "Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," he said. "I understand, I just thought I'd-"

"Are you insane?" he said, his voice cracking. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Sirius turned around to look at him- and started. His Godson stood, glaring at him with bright, red eyes and bared teeth, like a snake-

He shot up in bed, gasping for air. Cold sweat covered him and his temperature had risen; he thrust the bed sheets off of himself and laid back down, calming his breathing. He brought his hand to his cheek and felt moisture; he was crying again. Nothing new to him.

Only a few days before, when his godson somehow escaped Azkaban, was when it had started. Sirius had never been able to get a good nights sleep, but now he got none at all. Anytime he dozed off, he would awaken shaking after a nightmare or a dream of something from the past. He had always tried to push the memories- the thoughts- behind him, but now it was as if the wounds, which had never fully healed, had been ripped open, and were just as painful as when they were fresh.

He closed his eyes again. 'Sleep,' he silently begged, 'Sleep…' He wished for the oblivion to take him, take away his worries if only for eight or so hours while he slept, but it never came… even if it were to be haunted with nightmares… he had to sleep…

Sunlight shone through his eyelids… where was he, what had happened?… He opened his eyes to see that it was morning… finally, he had slept! If only for a few hours, it was undisturbed… even that, even finally resting his tired and aching body couldn't distract him from the terrible feeling of sadness that clung to him. Not only did it stress him emotionally, it really, physically felt as though there was a led weight on his heart.

There was a knock at his door; without wait, it was opened and Lupin stepped through with a plate of food.

"Did you get any sleep?" he inquired, handing him the food.

"Wh- what are you doing here?" he yawned. His home was password protected- only the order members and a few others knew the password, including Lupin, but usually people were careful not to surprise him.

"Dumbledore wanted me to check up on you. We could use your help, but you don't have to if you don't want to. He'll understand." He handed him the plate of sausage and eggs and watched him curiously. He had never looked worse, excluding the time he had just escaped from the prison.

"Well, did you get any sleep?" he repeated. Sirius nodded.

"I'm still tired, but… I just don't think…" Lupin interrupted him.

"You don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but- well, a few of us had to stop our regular shifts to keep reporters from breaking in here. Ginny isn't able to contain them anymore, and it would look suspicious if she ordered them to let it be. It is a rather big deal, you know."

"I know. I read her article just yesterday. Still got it." Sirius sighed. "Well, she's no Rita Skeeter, thankfully, but I still wish she had chosen a better profession. An Auror or maybe just a Ministry worker! Anything's better than a reporter."

There was a thoughtful and awkward silence. Lupin studied Sirius' face, until Sirius got out of bed abruptly and reached for his uniform he kept under the bed.

"You can't work right now." Lupin said, shaking his head. "You've just been under enough lately."

"No," he said stubbornly. "I don't want them to take me for weak. A few of them must be having a field day, knowing I'm stuck here."

"But-"

"I'm going." He walked across his bedroom to his bathroom, (His house was relatively small; a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and a study.) and closed the door to change.

"You really shouldn't!" Lupin called through the door.

"I know that, Moony. I'm still going to." He quickly pulled off the pajamas and rushed into his Auror uniform.

"You know, I won't even try. Your just as stubborn as back at Hogwarts." He could almost sense the smile on his face.

Sirius sighed. He was the only one who couldn't smile, it seemed.

"Robertson, you take team A, Weasley- Katie- take team B, and Weasley,- Angelina- take team C. I want every inch of Europe searched!" Sirius shouted orders to the teams. Even those who hadn't taken their tests yet were helping; quite a bit had been put on hold for the search. Search and Destroy, they had dubbed the mission. Sirius drove himself to his work to keep from thinking about it. He acted as though they were searching for an average criminal, a very well hidden one. At least this was Hermione's view on how he was taking it.

She sighed and shook her head. She apparated off with team A into an alleyway in muggle London.

"Disguise yourselves." Robertson, a gangly young man who still had traces of acne scars from his teen years, whispered. He transfigured his clothes into blue jeans and a white T-shirt; a better disguise than usual for a pure-blood wizard. Hermione herself transfigured into a similar outfit.

She waited as he assisted the rest. Her thoughts drifted; something she was used to. Anytime, almost anywhere, her thoughts drifted when she had the time. The drifted, unsurprisingly, to Harry. How could they not? She sighed…

He had changed; even Ron could see that back when they were still in school. He worked harder, he fell into thought often, sometimes he was extremely moody and said things to teachers most students had only dreamed of. He wasn't unhappy, however, he still laughed at stupid jokes just like all the other boys in the common room and he was always smiling when Cho came around. Hermione had held a bit of hostility toward Cho throughout most of their years together; she, Hermione had thought, was the cause of Harry's behavior. She knew how wrong she was now.

"Weasley? Weasley!" Robertson's commanding voice cracked into her skull. She lightly shook herself and looked at his face.

"Come on, are you with us? We need to head out."

"I'm not an Auror." She said waspishly. "I don't necessarily have to do what you say. I'm a volunteer, remember?" He blushed and muttered an apology before signaling everyone out onto the street. Hermione followed him through the busy, bustling street, her eyes sharp for anything suspicious.

She sighed to herself a few hours later. Nothing. They stopped by a fountain in the center of the sidewalk for a moments rest. She stared up into he sky and imagined Harry's face.

"Damn you." she whispered to herself. "Where are you hiding?"

"Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes, pancakes, paaaancakes and butter…" Adam and Connor both sang joyously.

"If you don't stop singing zat annoying song, you won't get anymore." Fleur said, her accent faintly present as she waved her wand to start the dishes cleaning themselves. They ceased. They knew when her accent returned that she meant business. "I hate zoes stupid jingles…"

Sophie gave a small laugh and stuck her tongue out at them. They stuck theirs out at her. Luke and Benjamin rolled their eyes, and in an imitation of their father, sighed, "Such childish behavior…"

Bart, grinning his five-year old grin, picked up a handful of butter and raised his hand to throw it; his mother Penelope grabbed his wrist. "Drop it." She ordered. So he did. On the floor.

She sighed and grabbed a washcloth and started cleaning it. "At least your eating something, you were awfully sick a few days ago. We had to leave you with the sitter while we went to the dinner party!"

He ignored every word and picked up a syrup-soaked pancake and stuffed as much of it in his mouth as possible, most of it dripping down his chin and onto his shirt. "Rmrrm!" He said.

Everyone laughed. Fleur turned to clean him up and spoke to Penelope while doing so. "Where are Emily and Callum, and Charlotte for that matter?"

"They're all in the study with the baby." she said, standing after scrubbing the floor.

"Percival won't be like Bart when he's older, will he?" Sophie asked curiously. Penelope laughed.

"I don't see why he wouldn't…"

"When is mommy and daddy getting home?" Connor asked, looking at them.

"When are mommy and daddy getting home, Connor, not 'is'." Penelope said automatically.

"When ARE mommy and daddy getting home?" He said irritably, scowling.

"Your mother will be home soon, but your father's going to be gone for a while."

"Where?" he asked automatically.

"Searching." She finished cleaning Bart up, and took his half-eaten plate while she stood and walked back to the sink. He screamed in protest.

"For what?" Connor persisted. Bart screamed again.

"Mommy! Food!" he demanded. Penelope shook her head at him.

"For what?" Connor repeated, annoyed. He hated being ignored. "FOR WHAT?"

Bart screamed again, this time joined by Sophie. "Adam hit me with his fork!" She said accusingly.

"DID NOT!" Adam yelled.

"MOMMY! FOOD!" Bart screamed again. He began to wail. "I'M HUNGRY!"

The kitchen chaos increased as Sophie thrust her pancakes at Adam.

"SHE GOT ME ALL STICKY!" he screamed. He wrapped his hand around the butter on the table and threw it at her.

"HE GOT ME STICKY!"

"FOR WHAT? WHAT, WHAT, WHAT, WHAT, WHAT, WHAT!" Connor screamed as loud as he could.

"Quiet! Quiet, stop!" Penelope yelled. Her kitchen was now covered in syrup and butter, and Bart was now sobbing. To add, her sons started arguing, again, about fifth year Prefects.

"Stop!" she screamed. No one could hear her. Their was a shattering of china as Bart threw Luke's plate onto the floor in a fit.

"Stop!"

"FOR WHAT!"

"QUIET!" Came a scream louder than any other. Fleur grabbed both Sophie and Adam's wrists in a vice grip, and the others ceased, just by seeing the look on her face.

"Leggo!" Sophie said tearfully. "It hurts!"

"You will be quiet." she said in a deathly whisper. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the day with a sore backside, sulking while everyone else- who's quiet- gets to go outside and play."

They froze. No one said a word. She let go of Adam and Sophie's wrists. Both looked down at the floor and said nothing.

"Clean this mess up," she ordered. "And then you can go outside."

They obeyed, working in complete silence. After a few minutes, Penelope threw the washcloth to Adam and stretched. "You mind if I have a nap? I've been working like this all morning…"

"No problem." Fleur said dismissively. "Everything's about done…"

"Can…" Came the small voice of Adam. "Can we go outside now?"

"Of course."

They all rushed out so quickly Penelope swore she felt a gust.

"I hate aunt Fleur!" Sophie said harshly as they walked to the broom shed. "She's so mean!"

"She's not mean!" Came Charlotte's voice. They had been walking through the study. "I'm telling her you said that!"

"Go ahead!" Sophie snapped. "See if I care!"

She carefully handed Percival to Emily, stood and walked briskly out.

"Your going to get it! Aunt Fleur's going to whip you!" Connor hissed. She looked fearful.

"L- let's go play." she said shakily. She ran to the broom shed and rushed just as quickly out, with all their brooms. "Hurry up!" she said. They followed and ran to catch up with her.

"Okay, each team has two Chasers and a Keeper… we'll just play to a hundred points, no Bludgers, no Snitch. I'm team captain for team one." Sophie acted as though nothing was wrong as she said this, in her bossy tone.

"I'm team captain for team two!" Adam said.

"What about me?" Connor asked in mock hurt.

"Your co-captain!"

"Okay!" he said cheerfully.

"On my team," Sophie continued. "I want Luke and me as Chasers and…"

"Me and Connor are Chasers for our team." Adam interrupted. "And we get Benjamin as Keeper."

"Not fair!" she said immediately. "Then we don't get a Keeper!"

"Tough luck! Bart can be your Keeper!"

"No he can't! He's not allowed."

"I wanna play!" Bart demanded.

"Well we don't always get what we want!" Sophie yelled angrily. She threw her hands up in frustration. "Why don't we just forget it and go back inside…" she trailed off and her eyes grew big. They turned to see their aunt Fleur marching toward them, with Charlotte right behind her, smirking at Sophie. They always hated each other.

Fleur yelled something angrily in French and once again grabbed hold of Sophie's wrist.

"No!" she screamed angrily, digging her heels into the ground. "No!"

Fleur tugged hard on her wrist and almost literally dragged her, kicking, screaming and sobbing the whole way. No one said anything, but pretended to look the other way.

Her cries finally cut off when they entered the house. An awkward silence was left in the wake.

"Um.. So, yeah… How about a two Chasers on a team and no Keeper? Play to two hundred?"

Everyone murmured in agreement and mounted their brooms.

Cho Chang was completely and totally silent as she scribbled away at the parchment on her desk. The gigantic window behind her made her literally shine as the sun rose.

She tossed her long black hair behind her and out of the way as she finished and placed the golden quill carefully back into the ink jar. She rolled up the parchment and sealed it, and opened a drawer in her desk and placed it in. She stood finally and stretched, straightening out her blue, purple, and gold robes. To most muggles this would seem a comical outfit for a witch to wear, similar to something they had seen in a storybook. Quite suited for a Charms professor.

She turned and looked out the window; she could see a great amount. The entire wall had been made into a window; while she was at Hogwarts the wall had been blown out and Dumbledore had found it easier to turn it into a window. She had a perfect view of the Quidditch pitch, and she would stay in her office and watch the games from inside if she felt it, which as rarely.

Cho was not exactly one of the most favored professors. The most hated was definitely Professor Malfoy of Potions, mostly because he was Head of Slytherin house and a insufferable git, but some days Cho was right behind. Head of Ravenclaw house, her house students definitely respected her because of her extensive knowledge and power in not only the Charms field, but every other field as well, and though it didn't always show, they appreciated the fact that she was the most challenging teacher at Hogwarts. No students was ever left behind; Cho made sure everyone could work the charm and everyone knew it before they moved on.

That did not always allow her good points with Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, or Gryffindors. Hufflepuffs, hardworking as they are, even they thought sometimes the workload was a little heavy. Slytherins were never really on her good side, never really on her bad side. They despised her not, most likely because their Head of House got along with her rather well, and the way she acted towards Gryffindors. She never favored a certain house, but sometimes, for reasons they could not tell, she would just despise a certain student. She wouldn't show it, but it was never hidden.

She captured a classes attention and kept it from the moment she entered the room to the second she dismissed them. Everyone paid very close attention, and from only a year or so of experience they could read her body language most of the time. The way she squared her eyes if she was angry at you, or the tone of voice she used when she was pleased with you. Sometimes, when they couldn't tell how she felt, it scared them quite a bit.

Cho was very rarely surprised by anything nor did she predict most everything that happened to her. In complete truth, she just didn't care. Not about much anything anymore.

Smoke was billowing from the chimney of the small cottage, which itself was made of red and gray stones. The front and back yard area had luscious green grass, a small garden with many flowers at both, and a pathway leading to the oak door, made of simple round gray stones.

He crept silently toward the cottage. The early morning light would soon be upon him, and then he could be easily sighted, but he wasn't about to let that happen. He reached one of the small windows and peered in. He hoped it wasn't bad timing.

Bad timing, indeed. Not for him, for him it was excellent, but if he got through it all, it would indeed go down as one of the most embarrassing situations in history. At least for Charlie.

He didn't know who the blonde-haired girl was with him beside the fireplace, but Harry paid her no mind. He could easily creep in, as both persons were lip-locked, eyes closed, on the floor, arms around each other; they were obviously paying no notice to their surroundings. How to get in?

The windows at the front of the house were too small to crawl through. He moved to the back windows. Perfect fit.

He tried to ease the window open with his wand, silently, as he sat below. It made a small sound.

The sounds from inside paused. "What was that?" Came the female's voice.

"Who cares?…" Charlie said, his voice unusually low and husky.

He heard the girl squeal, then giggle. He must've blown it off as a bug or stray animal. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

He couldn't get in through the windows. The sun was starting to rise. He must get in fast, or risk someone seeing him.

Harry sat thinking for a bit. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to come up with a way in. He must have sat for an hour at least, before he finally decided to just force his way in. If he couldn't get in, he would have to use force, no other way.

No other way. Gods, Charlie's going to hate him for this.

'Well,' he thought as he pointed his wand at the door. 'He already does.'

"Faresaltare!" he cried. He must've put a bit too much power into that Blasting curse; the door was not just blown open, but off it's thick hinges.

There was a very loud, terrified scream as smaller things on that wall went flying, followed by the surprised sound of Charlie, who was unaware of what was going on.

Harry stepped into the room, the dust quickly settling. Things had obviously progressed between the couple whilst he was outside; both their clothes were laying on the floor, and both figures were covered by a thick blanket made of some sort of animal skin.

"Stupefy! Stupefy!" he cried, pointing his wand at them both. Both went rigid as a board immediately.

Harry was far from thinking he was safe. He repaired and closed the door behind him and locked it with his wand, as well as all the windows and the other door. He cast a Blackening charm on them as well. He rushed to the fireplace and checked it to see if it was part of the Floo network- it wasn't.

Harry pointed his wand at the floor and cast a anti-apparation charm. It would keep them out, but it might clue them off to his location. Well, he had to take that chance.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt relatively secure. A bit overwhelmed, he fell into the red leather armchair beside him and heaved a sigh. He rather liked the feeling of being secure, but at the same time, it kind of scared him.

He tried not to think. He didn't want to think, to remember. But it was pretty unavoidable, because when he looked up, he saw a table of photographs featuring everyone in the Weasley family.

He felt his hand tighten around the arm of the chair. His throat made a funny noise, somewhere between vomiting and swallowing, and his chest literally stung. He gripped it with his other hand, trembling, and tried to hold back tears. He wasn't sure why he held them back, but he did. He didn't feel as though he could completely come to terms with what he had done to him, what effect his reckless decisions had on the man.

He picked up a picture that caught his eye, that held his best friends' wedding day. He always knew those two would end up together.

He closed his eyes and returned to simply not thinking, breathing deeply. Meditating, he could call it.

He opened his eyes again, finally catching hold of himself. No time for emotions, he though, repeating his words from the Forbidden Forest. Get down to business.

Fifth Year, by the Portrait of the Crazy Knight

Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked around the halls. Thinking he looked stupid simply standing there, he leaned casually against the wall as he waited. One minute passed. Then two. Was she coming?

Sir Cadogan distracted him by once again swinging his sword. "A duel!" he cried. Harry ignored him.

Three minutes…

"A duel! A duel I say!" he cried insistently. "Fight me!"

Four…

He finally saw her, just coming down the hall. She smiled at him nervously, and didn't say anything as she stopped in front of him. It was rather awkward.

"So, um, you wanna go outside for a walk before it gets dark?" she said.

"Sure," he said nervously. "Alright."

Classes had ended a while ago and the sun was only starting to set, giving the sky a funny hazy color. Cho and Harry stepped out and walked silently along the gravel path. Immediately, the students that were outside talking and laughing eyed them out and seemed to watch them out of the corners of their eyes. They tried to ignore it.

"So, we wanted to set up when to meet?"

"Yeah, and where." Harry said. He looked down at the sidewalk. A funny feeling of guilt crept into his stomach. She had been Cedric's girlfriend. No, he pleaded with himself, no, stop thinking about that.

"Er-" Cho was getting nervous at the surrounding stares. "Meet in the Great Hall?"

"Yeah, that would work." He avoided the looks. "What time, though? In the morning, or.."

"Morning, about, say…nine o' clock?" She looked up at him. Was it early? He didn't know, he had never been on a date before.

"Sure," he said. "Er-"

"Harry!"

He turned to see Hermione running towards him, a strange grin on her face. She caught up to them and coughed a few times. Her face was flushed, and she looked like she had been running quite a distance. Was it Harry's imagination, or was Cho suddenly still and cold?

"Harry- I've been looking for you. Something horrible has happened. Come with me." She grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him away. Harry turned and threw Cho a truly apologetic look; she pressed her lips firmly together as well as her brows, crossed her arms over her chest and turned and walked stiffly away.

Harry, angry with Hermione, whipped around and released his grip from hers. "What do you think your doing?" he demanded.

"Harry, we've got to get down to Professor Dumbledore's office. Ron's in horrible trouble, the stupid git…"

Harry, worried for his friends well being, followed in silence, until they reached his office, when Hermione said the password, and the entered to see a very angry, (and bloody) Ron sitting in an armchair, and a very angry Professors Snape and McGonagall.

"THIS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!" Snape roared at McGonagall.

She puffed out her chest, stuck her face very close to him and yelled just as loudly, "NEITHER WILL YOUR STUDENTS GO UNPUNISHED! IT IS THEIR FAULT WE ARE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"HE SHALL BE EXPELLED!"

"HE SHALL NOT! IF I CAN MAKE IT, YOUR STUDENTS WILL BE EXPELLED!"

"Professors!" Dumbledore said loudly. Sparks shot from his wand. They both seemed to compose themselves and each settled in a chair. Finally seeing Harry, Ron smiled at him weakly. He looked severely beaten; traces of what would soon be a black eye were around both, his lip was bloody, and he held tissue's to keep blood from flowing freely from his nose. He looked somewhat satisfied, though.

"Please, take a seat, Miss Granger, Mister Potter." They followed suit and sat on either side of Ron. "I do not think anyone will be expelled if we simply handle the situation carefully. However, Mister Weasley and your students, Professor Snape, cannot go unpunished."

At this point, he looked at Ron, a severity in his gaze. "I am not sure you are fully aware of the seriousness of what you have done, Mister Weasley. You are lucky, as normally I would seriously consider expelling you, but, due to circumstances-"

There was a sudden knock at the door. Was it his imagination, or had everyone gone still?

"Let me in! I'm not a fool, I know your in there!" Came the extremely unpleasant voice of Umbridge. The three students turned and looked at Professor Dumbledore.

He gave a small sigh. "Let her in, Miss Granger."

Hermione grudgingly got up and walked to the door, barely having time to jump out of the way as Umbridge charged the door and rushed to the desk of Professor Dumbledore.

"Aha!" she yelled, grinning widely, only complementing her toad-like appearance. "It seems Mister Weasley is facing expulsion, Headmaster, and their's nothing you can do. Mrs. Malfoy would even like to press charges, I contacted her a few moments ago."

Ron's face, as well as Harry and Hermione's, paled at this. Dumbledore only looked at her.

"Sorry to say, Professor, but Mister Weasley is not facing expulsion." he said very calmly. "He will be punished in another manner."

Umbridge immediately swelled at this. Accepting defeat early, she stated, "Well, you may not see things as I do, Dumbledore, but there is nothing you can do about the charge."

He looked at her through his half-moon spectacles. "True, I cannot. I am not paid to handle such matters… however, you Professor, are, so I suggest you head back to Mrs. Malfoy and sort out the details." he spoke in a rather saddened manner.

She was utterly delighted and left, throwing Ron a smirk. It must've taken all his self control not to lunge at her, but his right hand, (the only free one, the other was holding the tissue to his nose) tightened around the arm of the chair until the knuckles were white.

"As I was saying," Professor Dumbledore said as soon as she'd left. "Due to circumstances, your sentence will be reduced to a month's detentions, and fifty points will be deducted from Gryffindors house points."

No one protested this, obviously knowing it was far better than being expelled.

"You may all return to your common rooms, it is getting late."

"Ron mate, what the bloody hell happened?" Harry asked as they left. Ron grinned.

"I beat the pulp out of Malfoy, that's what." he said proudly. Hermione gave him a look.

"Yes, and then you got the pulp beaten out of you by Crabbe and Goyle." she said pointedly. He blushed.

"What was I supposed to do? They're twice my size and they had me cornered! Not that you did anything to help, mind you, except run for the teachers."

"What did you want me to do? I can't fight!"

"Well then, you should learn."

"Ron," Harry said, interrupting their fight. "why did you have to attack Malfoy in the first place."