Reaching Maturity

Disclaimer: if you've got this far and still think they're mine, I pity you. I have borrowed them – with every intention of returning them. Katie Harper is, though, mine, as she is not one of Rowling's creations to date. Oh, and Narnia belongs to CS Lewis, a good friend of JRR Tolkien.

A/N: This chapter is accidentally a lot longer than the restA/N 2: minor spoiler for the end of the Narnia books, so if you haven't read them to The Last Battle, beware!

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Chapter 16: A Long Discussion

Dumbledore made the announcement about the Dementors' departure from Azkaban to the whole school at breakfast, and was met with dead silence. "It is inevitable that they will now join Voldemort; every piece of evidence, and their very nature, suggests it. Any Hogsmeade visits, including today's, are, therefore, cancelled indefinitely. If any of you know of any secret passages out of the school, you would be more than foolish to risk using them; you would be risking your very existence. You are forbidden from leaving the school grounds without permission.

"I need you all to understand that this is not just a mere inconvenience or that it has been imposed merely for the amusement of the staff or so that we can make things as difficult as possible for you all. It is for your safety. I am sure that I need not tell you that, should these rules be disobeyed, I shall ensure that your parents understand that you were warned and have therefore brought it on yourself. They have already been sent letters containing details of these new rules."

A murmuring broke out amongst the students, with many of the third-years looking distinctly mutinous, having only just begun to experience the delights of the wizarding village.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and silence fell again. "I should also add that, due to a directive from the Ministry of Magic, Quidditch will take place at a much lower height than usual – including practices. Posts and stands will be lowered accordingly. And," he added, "I shall remind you yet again to keep out of the Forbidden Forest. Hence its name. There is a risk that some of the beings that reside in the Forest have turned to Voldemort, and will therefore be extremely dangerous – more so than usual that is." He sat down. His words had stunned the students into total silence – an extremely rare occurrence at breakfast, particularly as it lasted the entire length of the meal. Afterwards, Harry, Hermione and Hannah went up to the hospital wing.

"I take it you've heard?" inquired Madam Pomfrey as they entered. They nodded, and she pursed her lips. "I don't like this one bit, I don't mind telling you. The house-elves are busy making plenty of chocolate, in case any Dementor tries to get into the school, most likely on the orders of You-Know-Who." She took them through to see Draco, who was idly sketching in a Muggle sketchpad that Hannah had given him. "Professors Lupin and Figg have abandoned their original lesson plans and will now be teaching proper defensive magic to everyone – and that includes the Patronus charm. I hope you've got some extremely happy memories close to hand – oh, I know you can do them, Potter."

"So can Hannah and myself," Hermione informed her. "We learnt it in fifth year, from Harry, in DA. And Lupin's been teaching us."

"That's me done for, then," said Draco bitterly, laying the sketchpad down on the covers. Hannah glanced at the page that lay open. It depicted a bare room with the outline of a tall man, towering, wand in hand, over a small child huddled on the floor in the middle of the room. The picture was clearly unfinished, but it was perfectly apparent that the man was intended to be robed in black. His skin and long hair were unshaded, unblemished apart from a tiny mark on his exposed left forearm, near the elbow. The child was dressed in Muggle-style clothing and was barefoot, with the same unshaded skin and hair, though the hair was short.

"Wow! This is brilliant!" breathed Hannah, picking up the book to examine the picture more closely.

"He's been spending most of the last two days on it when he wasn't asleep. He's had plenty of time because you didn't come," Pomfrey informed her.

"Why didn't you come?" asked Draco, pulling his knees up to his chest so Hermione could sit on the bed – there were only two chairs, and Harry and Hannah were sat in them. The three glanced nervously at each other.

"Well?" he demanded forcefully, coughing.

Harry took a deep breath. "Things have got far more dangerous, apparently – or so all the teachers say. Personally, I reckon Voldemort's been seen near the school. Nearly Headless Nick's gone out to see if he can get any more information."

"Ghosts can do that?"

"Apparently."

"They've had us sleeping in the Great Hall for the last couple of nights, and we're not allowed to leave the building unless it's for lessons, mainly Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures," added Hermione.

"And all Hogsmeade visits are cancelled indefinitely," finished Hannah, somewhat gloomily.

Draco stared at them in horror, grasping the bedsheets tightly. "The last battle," he murmured.

"Are you referring loosely to the Narnia books, by any chance?" asked Hermione in amazement.

Draco nodded. "There was a half-Muggle tutor living in the village near us. Father wanted me to have a private tutor to ensure I got a 'basic understanding of necessary skills'." He smiled wryly. "I don't think he planned on me turning into a bookworm. He got the tutor to come up to the manor to teach me. Maths, English – a lot of grammar – geography, history, wretched piano that I hated with a passion…That sort of stuff. She lent me books. I loved Narnia."

"I never read Narnia," said Harry. "Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me."

"The last one's called The Last Battle," explained Draco. "Basically there's a final battle to save Narnia and the bad guys disappear for good and they all go into the 'new' Narnia – a new world, if you will. It's kind of complicated – although at the end –"

"Don't tell me!" Harry interrupted. "I might want to read it one day, and if you tell me the ending now, you'll ruin it!"

"The final battle between good and evil," added Hannah.

Draco nodded. "This is what it's all going to come down to. It was always going to. The final showdown between 'good' and 'evil'; Harry and the Dark Lord. If Harry defeats him, he'll never be able to return. If the Dark Lord wins…" He gave Harry an odd look – a combination of pity, fear and worry. "If he wins, it's over for the rest of us. The Dark Arts will rule. The Dark Lord will overpower all that resist him. Most of us will be dead. Only those that become Death Eaters stand any chance of survival. Even then, if they don't keep proving themselves, they'll be killed. No mercy. It would be like it was before, with the entire wizarding world living in crippling fear. I do envisage his rule eventually collapsing, imploding, but only because he'll have killed off the entire magical world.

"Hermione, you'd be one of the first to go, being completely Muggleborn. It wouldn't be too much longer before – before you went either, Hannah." His voice caught in his throat. "Your grandmother's a Muggle. And your family have always resisted the Dark Side."

"What about you?" asked Hermione. "You're pureblood. Plus you're a Malfoy. That would stand you in good stead, surely."

He let out a short, cynical laugh. "Oh, the Dark Lord wouldn't kill me. No chance of that happening. Oh no. The moment the great Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right-hand man, heard that his own son had joined forces with the Muggleborns such as Hermione Granger, paupers like the Weasleys, half-breeds like Professor Lupin, and Harry Potter himself, I'd be dead. Not before putting me under Cruciatus, of course, to hear me beg for mercy. Unless this blasted illness ends up being the death of me." His chilly, bleak voice, tinged with sorrow and bitterness, sent shivers down the spines of his three visitors – mainly because they could all envisage it all too clearly for themselves. It was disturbing, horrific, and they sat in silence for a while.

Eventually, Hermione broke the silence. "How did you work all this out?" she asked hesitantly.

"I've been lying up here long enough. More than enough time to sit around and think gloomy thoughts to depress myself further, and contemplate possible outcomes of things as they stand, and outcomes of the battle that will be fought – and soon, I imagine."

"It's scary," said Hannah soberly. "It's only too possible." She shuddered.

"Well, we just won't let Voldemort win, then, will we?" cried Hermione fiercely, pounding her fist down hard on the bed, making Draco wince slightly. "We're going to beat him once and for all!"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Draco nervously, eyeing her in slight alarm, not knowing what she would do next. He leaned back into the pillows that were propping him up, tired after his long speech and retreating warily from Hermione.

Pomfrey bustled up. "You three should be getting off to your lessons. Now." She ushered them out and then returned, turning to Draco. "You look exhausted already. Too much talking, I'll warrant."

He shrugged. "Probably." He picked up his sketchbook and pencil, and turned to a clean page, beginning to work on something new. After a while, Pomfrey reappeared at his side. "That's a pretty unpleasant scene," she observed. "Violent, even."

"It's meant to be," he told her shortly. Although he had only put in the outlines, the picture clearly depicted a small child cowering in a corner, arms raised protectively over his face. A man loomed menacingly over him, hands gripping the child's wrists tightly.

Madam Pomfrey sat down on the bed beside Draco. "Are they the same people that were in the other picture you were drawing earlier?" she asked carefully.

Draco tensed, before slowly, hesitantly, nodding. "It was Hannah's idea. 'Art therapy', I think she called it."

"That girl is far smarter than she gets credit for," said Pomfrey. "Now, don't you go tiring yourself out."

"I won't," he promised, giving her a small, appeasing smile.

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"I want those essays on the comparisons between different Truth Potions," Snape told his seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins briskly. "I will not accept any excuses – even that of being dead. We will be making the mildest truth potion today, to be tested at a later date to allow it time to mature – if it is done correctly, that is." The corners of his mouth twitched unpleasantly. "Most likely on yourselves. Once I have your essay, you may begin." He swept round the dungeon, collecting in the essays and distributing disparaging remarks to most students, who either flushed red or scowled, glaring hatefully at his back.

They worked in silence as Snape patrolled the room, examining their progress – or lack thereof. Harry was quietly confident about his. It was translucent grass green in colour and smelled distinctly of pine, which it was supposed to do.

Eventually Snape informed them that they should be finishing. "I am bringing round a small bottle for you each. You will write your name on a label and attach it to your bottle. As I stated earlier, we will test it later on in the term. The shelf for you is clearly labelled in the NEWT cupboard; do not put it with the sixth-years' potions."

One by one the students ladled samples of their completed potion into their bottle and took them over to the marked shelf. Snape eyed a couple of students' distinctly un-green potions and looked up at the ceiling, sighing wearily. "Put them on the shelf anyway and we shall see," he said resignedly, just as Blaise Zabini dropped his bottle, which smashed on the stone floor. "Clean that up, Zabini. I suppose it is the right colour, which is more than can be said for some."

"If it was a Gryffindor, he'd take points off for carelessness," Ron muttered angrily in Harry's ear. Harry nodded, although it was more to pacify Ron than as a sign that he agreed with him. He was unsure about Snape now – he had been noticeably fairer recently, presumably due to the growing fear of possible divisions in the school houses, exacerbated by Voldemort.

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The students were getting used to sleeping in the Great Hall rather than their dormitories, and having the ghosts, teachers and prefects on patrol. Three days after the incident in Potions, Nearly Headless Nick returned to the school, unable to learn anything new. "Nothing to report, unless the locals know something and aren't saying," he told the gathered teachers and prefects.

"If we really don't know where Voldemort is – don't look at me like that, Ron Weasley; it's only a name – why don't we just go back to sleeping in our dormitories?" asked Cecilia. "There are only so many nights the kids can all stand to sleep in the Great Hall on little camp-beds, no matter how comfortable it is. If he was sighted in or near Hogsmeade, fair enough, but surely we would know if he was that close?"

"I will wait until I receive reliable information that reassures me," Dumbledore told her quietly. "There is far more to it than you are aware of, Miss Rickman. I wish to keep a close eye on all my students at the moment." He glanced briefly at Harry and Hermione, and they immediately understood the meaning behind his words – no student Death Eater could regularly disappear from under the Headmaster's eye on the same occasions that Snape also did, without revealing their identity.

Dumbledore became businesslike again. "Gryffindors are on the first shift tonight. The rest of you, get some sleep." He darkened the Hall with a flick of his wand and the prefects dispersed. Ron, Ginny and Colin began walking up and down, enforcing silence and encouraging students to go to sleep. Harry and Hermione slipped silently into the corridor, where they were met by Lupin and Snape. A large, shaggy black dog sat by Lupin's feet and Snape was eyeing it with pure revulsion. Lupin nudged the dog. "Sirius."

Sirius obligingly transformed back into his human form. "I've just got back from Emily Longbottom's." He handed Hermione a folded-up letter that he had removed from his robes. "Lucius Malfoy has been seen in the area – very close to where Emily lives in Hebden Bridge. He's been going up onto the hillsides a lot. I followed him up there but I soon lost him once he Apparated." He scowled angrily.

"That's near Pendle Hill," stated Hermione knowledgeably.

Sirius nodded in confirmation. "I reckon Narcissa's around there somewhere. The problem is finding out without making it completely bloody obvious that I'm there."

"You can borrow my Invisibility Cloak," offered Harry. "I'm not likely to need it in the near future."

"Thanks." Sirius smiled at him briefly before his face darkened. "How's Draco?"

"He's a lot better, but Madam Pomfrey won't let him back into lessons just yet, after what happened last time; he gets tired really easily still. He spends a lot of his time drawing; he's really good. A lot of the things he draws are really dark in content. He's not stupid – he knows what's going on; he reckons it's going to come down to a final battle – kind of Armageddon-esque," replied Hermione. "He's been talking about the possible outcomes. But we do know one thing – he's going to be fighting with us, not against us."

"He'll go down in history as the first Malfoy to not immerse himself in the Dark Arts," remarked Snape softly.

Hermione was focused on reading the letter from Mrs. Longbottom. There was little more information from what Sirius had divulged. One sentence, though, caused her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. "Emily Longbottom was at school with Aunt Louisa," she observed.

"The issue," said Sirius, "is whether or not we tell the child about his mother."

"Draco is eighteen in a month, Black; I hardly think he qualifies as a 'child', especially considering how quickly he has had to grow up," said Snape coldly, glaring at Sirius.

"Children…" cut in Lupin warningly. "We're working together here, so for goodness' sake put aside your animosity once and for all and grow up."

Harry leaned against the wall, stifling a yawn. "But what the hell can we do?"

"Nothing," Sirius told him sharply. "You do nothing. Hear me? Hermione?"

The two students nodded mutinously – after all, Sirius hardly had the best of records of obedience.

"Good. Harry, I'll take that Invisibility Cloak, if you'd be so kind."

Harry hurried off, Nearly Headless Nick tailing him just to ensure that no harm came to him, and Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "And you're going to rush headlong into something that you aren't prepared for?" she demanded archly.

"I'm staying up at The Three Broomsticks for a few days to plan the next move. I'm not that stupid."

Snape arched one black eyebrow sceptically, but a warning look from Lupin forced him to hold his tongue.

"When Harry gets back, I'll be off," Sirius told them. "So you don't have to put up with me for much longer, Snivellus." A quick reaction from Lupin was the only thing that prevented Sirius' existence from being instantly terminated by the end of Snape's wand.

Harry soon returned and handed the Cloak to his godfather. Sirius promised not to lose it, and assured Hermione that he would be careful (Hermione's face clearly told him that she was far from convinced). He hugged Harry briefly.

"Touching as this little scene undoubtedly is, I'm sure you'd best be making yourself scarce, Black," interrupted Snape's cutting voice.

"All right, all right, I'm going." Sirius was about to transform into his Animagus form, when the sound of frantic footsteps began echoing down the corridor, growing louder as the runner raced towards them.

"Mr. Malfoy?" said Lupin in surprise. "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be –"

Draco put one hand against the wall, gasping for breath. "Pomfrey…sent me," he wheezed. "Three Dementors…in the grounds…Saw them…from…window." He sank to the floor in a violent coughing fit.

"I'll get Dumbledore," Hermione volunteered, glancing at the Marauder's Map, which Harry had thrust into her hands. It revealed Dumbledore in his office, and she sped off, leaving Sirius to transform and Lupin and Snape to focus their attention on Draco.

She was quick to arrive at the Headmaster's office and relayed the information to him. He nodded briefly and dismissed her, moving from his office and along the school corridor at a pace wholly unexpected for a man of his age – even a wizard. Hermione returned to the Entrance Hall at a rather more sedate pace, and discovered all the teachers and prefects there, including Draco, who had Hannah's arm around his waist for support. Dumbledore was briefing them on what Draco and Madam Pomfrey had seen. He ordered the prefects to be extra vigilant whilst the teachers were outside dealing with the Dementors.

A short while later the teachers slipped back into the Great Hall, quietly informing the prefects that the threat had been removed and that anti-Dementor charms had been set up around the castle. Draco was handing out chocolate to everyone, which Pomfrey had given him to supply everyone with.

"I don't like this," Katie Harper murmured from the corner she was sitting in, knees drawn up close to her chest. "There's no way I'll be able to get back to sleep now."

"Same here," said Zoë West. "How much longer before the Muggleborns start being murdered? The Daily Prophet's reporting deaths and disappearances almost daily. I'm Muggle-born."

"So am I," said Hermione.

"My grandfather is," interjected Andrew McIntosh.

"My father's a Muggle," said Padma.

"My mother," said Mark Edwards.

"I'm pureblood but I'm a Weasley – as is Ginny. What chance does my family stand?" asked Ron of nobody in particular.

"My family won't be untouched; I know that much," said Cecilia. "Us Rickmans may be one of the oldest pureblood wizarding families, but half are on the Dark Side and the rest of us are with Dumbledore. I was falling for the seduction of the Dark Arts, I admit it, but I've seen the reality of it, and it's not right, what they do. Ergo, I've probably been marked for death."

Tarquin Baldrick just looked completely terrified.

"My father will definitely kill me," said Draco quietly, his tone sending icy shivers down the spines of the rest of the prefects, "once he finds out I'm not joining him in the Dark Lord's ranks."

Ron stared at him in utter disbelief. "You've been saying that you support You-Know-Who ever since the very first time we met, Malfoy!" he spat. "Why should I – or any of us here – believe you now?"

Draco shrugged, and turned his grey eyes on Ron, staring evenly at him. "You don't have to believe me, Weasley," he replied in his old drawl. "Even if it happens to be true."

"Too right I don't! And I don't believe you, Malfoy! I don't trust you one bit; I never have and I never will!"

"Shut up!" hissed Hermione furiously. "You'll wake people!"

"All right! This has gone far enough!" interrupted Harry, coming between the two prefects, placing his hands on Ron's chest and propelling him back from Draco, who was distinctly shorter than the redhead. "Ron, keep hold of your tongue in future. Draco, stop winding him up. Is that clear?"

The two nodded sulkily.

"Good." Harry shook his head resignedly. It was just like watching Sirius and Snape all over again.

Now the confrontation was over, the prefects took up various tasks such as patrolling the Hall, or having discussions with the teachers and ghosts. Hannah and Draco, having found a spare camp bed and sleeping bag for Draco, set them up and then sat down on Hannah's bedding, which was against a wall. Draco leaned heavily against her - well, as heavy as Draco can get, Harry corrected himself – and her arm was tightly around him, along with her cloak. With the exception of the somewhat fragile and currently dozing Draco, the prefects were sharp and alert, springing into action at the slightest noise, wands in hands in case of any emergency. Several teachers quietly advised the prefects to get some sleep at some point in the night, and they all eventually drifted into a light, uneasy sleep.

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TBC

Author thanks:

CloudofDreams: maths coursework…(shudders) Apology is perfectly acceptable! My life was put on hold for such things. Mrs. Thompson actually had to get one of my classmates to help me with it because I just didn't have a clue! I never really got the formula, and I think I was the slowest in my entire year for both pieces of coursework.

I'm not telling you about Narcissa! The thing with Draco is that he's probably a lot more complex than he seems to be when you read the books, but the books are Harry's POV so we only see Draco how Harry sees him. The centaurs are more astrologers than astronomers – hence Firenze – was it Firenze? My copy of OotP is 300 miles away from me (or about 2 miles away from you, if that!) – taking over Divination in said book. Sinistra is a fact/science/evidence person and has no time for astrology.

You could perchance be correct on the romance front! Snape's one of my favourite characters; he's incredibly complex and therefore great to write about – and also he was bullied and was the social outcast, and I've been there, for 7 years pretty much. I've found that at uni people tend to be more accepting (although not everyone is…). Snape's technically a good guy, but if he was nice to Harry (particularly following the end of GoF), his cover could all too easily be blown. Plus, I suspect that every time he looks at Harry, for a split second he sees James, which must be incredibly hard for him. And yes, Lupin does rock! I have a nasty feeling that he may be the one to be bumped off (although don't trust my word – a certain fluorescent-orange-lab-coat-wearing chemistry teacher predicted that Sirius would be killed off in OotP, so ask her!)

Jmmy: (cackles evilly) YAAAAAAAAAY! I'm recruiting people for the Draco/Hannah ship! All aboard! Drink up me hearties, yo ho! Savvy? ;-) Sorry- I've got the PotC soundtrack on at the moment!

Heartsyhawk: essay is now DONE! Yay!

TinorialPeredhil: I wanted a scary bit and the whole idea of a silhouetted figure being briefly lit up by lightning (notice how it's always lightning!) is ages old but incredibly effective, so I used it. OK, I'm now hiding because I don't want to be there when Aragorn comes after you to reclaim Andúril! Excuse me? It most certainly is not attempted murder! You think I want to kill off my readers? But if I did that I wouldn't have any lovely reviewers left! Perhaps accidental manslaughter, but they wouldn't be able to prove it beyond all reasonable doubt. So there! ;-)

Samhaincat: how did I know you'd miss Draco! Relax – chapter 16 has plenty of him! I love tense angsty endings. Or evil cliffhangers. That's how soap operas get people hooked on them; there's something left hanging, so you tune into the next episode to see the outocme of that, and then something else happens so you tune in again to see outcome, et cetera, ad finitum.

Rio b: I'm sure I recall you reading the entire first draft. 100 sure. Patience is a virtue. Surely you archaeologists (or future archaeologists) understand that concept? ;-) No offence intended! (Open mouth, insert foot!) But not being able to remember what happens makes it all the more intriguing and compulsive reading! The Dementors leaving Azkaban is highly significant – writer's tool, to show that things are suddenly happening and getting a lot darker and scary.

Dark Lady Arantraneth: Glad to know I'm still doing what I do best!

Frisbee400: I couldn't resist the great-aunt plot twist. We're told Hermione's parents are both Muggles but we know nothing about anyone else in her family. We don't even know if she has any siblings. And regarding romance, you're on the right tracks!

Lucidity: I like my stars as well! I'm really glad you suggested Insert and Symbol in Word! Thankies! Marie is not a pleasant person by any stretch of the imagination.