Harry left the common room with a cheery wave and smile at the Fat Lady then headed down the corridor to his own rooms.

It was great seeing his friends again, though he did feel a bit out of place, he wasn't sure why, and Ron and Hermione did seem to be getting awfully close—

"Harry!"

He turned, Neville ran up to him, grinning and carrying his rucksack.

"I'm heading to library, walk with you?" He asked, falling into step with him.

"Yeah, sure. Why are you going there? Curfew is in twenty-minutes." Harry murmured as they passed some sleeping portraits.

"Oh, well, I have to do an essay on Misdirection charms since I accidentally misdirected some fourth-years into the lake instead of Greenhouse three. It's due tomorrow, so I thought I should start on it."

Harry snickered. "Way to go Neville…say; can I ask you something?"

Neville nodded, waving absently at a couple of portraits that were still awake.

"Well…er…Ron and Hermione…well…. they've…. are they…?" He floundered and blushed.

Neville laughed out loud, and quickly stopped when a portrait of pirouetting knights brandished their swords at him. "Well, I don't think they know yet, to tell you the truth, Ron's…well…you know how Ron is, completely clueless if it's not being spelled out for him, and Hermione…you know, I don't think she has an excuse. They've gotten closer since you left, Hermione was really upset—Now don't go looking like that! We know you had to!" He exclaimed at the guilt-ridden expression on Harry's face.

"It's just…they might be something later on, you know? Right now they just…er…cuddle; a bit." He coughed and grinned at him, amusement clearly written on his face. Harry laughed quietly and they parted ways at the library in a companionable silence.

It was good that they relied on each other, Harry decided, by the time he had changed and gotten into bed for the night, looking in amusement at the teddy-bear prints on his duvet (but very manly teddy bears, for arguments sake). It certainly took some weight off him anyway, as he wasn't sure he could be there for his friends and kill the Dark Lord and his legions of Tacky Eighties-Style-Minions of Doom.

Or Death Eaters…whatever.

In any case, He thought, snuggling into the fluffy pillows, hope Neville starts a pool…Harry's eyes drifted shut, and his breathing even out in the dark room.

Meanwhile, four floors below Harry's peaceful slumber (he was dreaming of Quidditch -the Snitch was a flying muffin- and was enjoying himself immensely), two doors to the left, in a shabby office that once may have held pictures of playing kittens and frilly doilies of the recently politically ruined Dolores Umbridge, now had several scorch marks on the walls (Filch had agonized over who the perpetrators were, but Professor McGonagall insisted that a lamp had turned over, waving a hand across her robes to get rid of a suspicious smell of petrol), random Dark Arts detectors, and several chairs that were occupied with Hogwarts finest Professors, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

"He can't just leave!" Squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, smoking on a long reed pipe and frowning anxiously.

The reasonable facsimile, or Snape, grunted, probably in disagreement. He was glaring at Lupin, who was sipping hot chocolate and looking worried. Not too worried, but worried nonetheless (actually, Snape wasn't really glaring, more like watching sternly without realizing he was doing it).

"He's of age, Professor, the decision is entirely up to him, no matter how unsafe he may be." Professor McGonagall replied, looking around the office, (with a peculiarly triumphant look at the scorch marks) and fixing Bill with a beady stare, as he tried to unobtrusively stick quills to the ceiling, which already had several nibs stuck on it. Bill flushed and grinned sheepishly, with the awkwardness of someone not yet used to teaching instead being taught, and placed the quill back in its holder. His fingers trembled.

"Harry will do whatever he thinks is right, and that's all we can hope for." Professor Sprout said sensibly, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders. Madam Hooch snorted from her seat by Bill. "Don't be ridiculous, you've seen that boy play Quidditch, he takes risks that put Godric Gryffindor to shame. Hogwarts is the safest place, so he most likely won't be staying here."

"You seem to have a firm opinion of the boy's temperament, Hooch." Snape sneered, distractedly.

Madam Hooch tsked. "Actions speak louder than words, Severus, and that goes double for Quidditch players."

Professors Flitwick, McGonagall and Sprout nodded in Quidditch-fan agreement. Lupin rolled his eyes and sipped his hot chocolate, stifling a grin as Bill successfully pierced the ceiling with his quill. McGonagall sighed in exasperation, and waved her wand casually. The quill turned into ink and splattered messily onto Bills red hair and the multitude of holes disappeared.

"Where in hell's name is Dumbledore?" Snape muttered to himself, as the socializing was starting to make him annoyed.

"Right here, dear boy." Said Dumbledore from the doorway, his eyes twinkling. There was a short flurry of movement as the Professors adjusted their chairs, and in Bill's case, casted a quick scourgify on his head. "Well now," Said Dumbledore, smiling widely, "Let us get this meeting started."

With a scowled "Finally" from Snape Dumbledore reached into his robes and withdrew a tiny orb, that would normally be the lively color of bright red, however, it was nursing a rather depressing pale green. The name Potter J. Harry glinted off it in the light.

"Would somebody be able to explain why Harry seems to have died?"

Dumbledore was greatly amused by the incredulous staring he received.

Ok, I'm stopping here. I know, nothing really happens, but It is Important, and I really need to sleep/study/sleep some more. I was afraid Shadowed Rains would come after me. LoL.

Q and A time!

Q: What was the pointless scene with Neville?

A: …Weeeelll, it wasn't pointless, I like Neville, and felt bad that he didn't talk a lot last chapter. I also needed a reason to get Ron and Hermione out of way. Gosh, that sounds rather mean, doesn't it? I just need them in a certain place to move the plot along, and Neville was my excuse for this. (Pats Neville)

Q: The Orb? What the Hell was that?

A: Read Chapter 7, and then contemplate the one Potions Master who knows anything about Harry's cheesily titled potion.

Icy Tears: What was the scene with Nagini?
A: That's confidential information…Wait…oh…two chapters.

When will you update?
A: When my Muse and my schedule allow me, My exams are starting over the next to weeks, and then I'm moving…we'll see.

Why must school be so horrible?
A: A sorrowful fact of modern society, I'm afraid. I don't think anyone will answer the question fully.

Why does school exist?
A: See above answer

Why does saytime exist?
A: What's a saytime?

Why must you keep us reviewers waiting a millennia for your wonderful updates?

A: …I'm sorry, but it does mean that I have to wait for all you're wonderful reviews.

Cecikun: Pheonix eh? You know, I never even thought of that. Bugger me.

Earendil's Girl: No, Hooch is right, Harry will be serving drinks a little more…and then…the info becomes confidential.

Egyptian Flame: Daphne Greengrass? I hadn't thought of her, unfortunately, JK herself said that Blaise was a boy, so if I wrote that pairing, I would keep true to canon…well…sorta…JK's a little tight-lipped on the sex ne?

And now; a Question for all of you brilliant reviewers.

This story is at the Middle point where any number of things can happen. First off:

Lupin/Snape anyone? I enjoy slash, but not necessarily this pairing, I will write it however, because Sirius isn't around to play with.

That brings me to the next point. Would it be beneficial to bring Black Back? I've thought about it, and I might be able to make it work…but alas. I'll go by majority of votes.

Who wants Draco? No! Not like that! I need him for the plot! Put him down…oh, all right, but only for an hour. In other words, Good Guy! Draco? Or the Snarky Bastard that I know and Love? Hint! I write better snarky bastards…I think….not evil snarky bastards…just, you know, Snape-ish. (Loves Snape)

Well, that's it. I believe in Democracy folks, so the highest vote gets the highest consideration. As for what Harry is going to do, you'll find out a bit of that next chappie. Thank-you all for your reviews. Till next time!