Further warnings: time to deal with the Dursley's… oh and a little note about scrying. I think it's supposed to see the present, not the future, but I don't know for sure, and I'm going with my interpretation of it all, ok?
Sympathetic Magic: Part Six - Seventh Year - Term One
Hogwarts looked good in the morning sunlight, and the Gryffindor's tower was completed, the stonework around it cleaned of soot and smoke. It had been a rather depressing sight to see last year, and Harry was relieved to see his first true home back to its old self. Professor Dumbledore was standing on the front steps waiting for them, with Dobby beside him. Harry hastened his steps, Ron matching his stride easily as they floated their trunks and owl cages along behind them, their brooms in their protective bags slung over their backs. Lucky gambolled behind them, destined for Hagrid's hut. The pup would be welcomed by their friend, and Fang wouldn't mind the company - Harry had made sure of this on his birthday, sending Hedwig with a note asking the half-giant if he'd be interested in adopting their pup.
"Good morning, Professor," they called as they got within hailing distance. Dumbledore was looking splendid in his brilliantly coloured robes. Even his hair was gleaming in the sunlight.
"Good morning boys," Dumbledore beamed at them, "Welcome back."
Harry smiled at his Headmaster and then turned to say hello to Dobby, who was hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. The elf took charge of their trunks and brooms immediately, telling them he'd have them unpacked in no time, despite Harry's protests that he needn't bother. It had occurred to both boys that with the tower repaired their ability to share each others bed this year would be limited to school holidays. They'd promised each other to make the time to just be alone - the Room of Requirement would be seeing a lot of them this year - and to increase their finger talk. Hagrid appeared and was introduced to Lucky, the pup carried away in his pocket, Harry watching him go with a little twinge of regret.
"Time for some morning tea, I think," Dumbledore broke into Harry's thoughts, "And I asked you to come to school early for a reason, boys. I have a request to make of you both this year, that will require some effort on your part."
With those intriguing words he turned and led the way into the castle, Harry and Ron trailing along behind him, their curiosity aroused. They walked in silence to the Headmaster's office and sat on the small couch that rested beside the empty fireplace. Dumbledore conjured a tray of tea things, and they spent a few minutes in the mundane ritual of pouring and handing around the plate of scones that were on the tray.
"Now," Dumbledore smiled at them both, "I am sure that you followed the controversy over the Seven Nations Quidditch Cup last year. As you know there was some mention of it being rescheduled for this year, provided certain obstacles could be overcome."
"Mr Bagman has managed it?" Harry asked incredulously. Ludo Bagman was not his idea of a terribly honest, organised person. From what Harry knew of him, his staff did most of the organising and he took the credit for it.
"He did not, unfortunately," the Headmaster's tone was very dry, "However, the Department imposed upon Madam Hooch to assist them. You may not realise it, but Madam Hooch was once a Chaser for the England team."
"She retired injured after a bad smash from a bludger sent her ploughing into the ground," Ron supplied that little piece of information. Harry wasn't surprised his friend knew about it, Ron seemed to store a couple of encyclopaedia's worth of Quidditch information in his brain. Dumbledore nodded at them, smiling again and sipping his tea.
"Correct, Mr Weasley. Madam Hooch was able to organise two pitches for the three teams. The Chuddley Cannons will host New Zealand this year after Christmas, and Australia and Fiji will be hosted by Hogwarts."
"Yes!" Ron bounced on his cushion, jostling Harry, who was just as excited. Two International Quidditch teams at the school! That would be so wicked. They'd be able to see them practice and maybe even see them play each other, not to mention playing other teams.
"We will be housing them in the new Gryffindor tower," Dumbledore continued when he was sure he had their attention, "It is larger than the quarters that your House occupied last year, and a little more modern."
Harry grinned in relief. He and Ron would have their privacy again this year. He made a mental note to send Madam Hooch the largest bunch of flowers he could get his hands on as a thank you and gripped Ron's knee tightly. Ron was also grinning wildly, perfect understanding in his eyes. The Headmaster was pouring himself another cup of tea, and Harry took the chance to mouth 'love you' to his friend.
"Professor, how does having the teams at Hogwarts require effort on our parts?" Ron asked, moving closer to Harry on the couch in reply. Harry was recalled to business when the Headmaster passed around the scones again.
"Madam Hooch has quite a bit of work to do to ensure that the Cup goes off well. In order to give her that time, I have had to release her from her teaching duties. While I don't believe the House Quidditch teams will suffer too greatly in the long run from her absence, the first and second year students have no one to teach them their broom craft. You are two of the best fliers in the school, and Madam Hooch herself has recommended you to me to temporarily take her place. She will be able to resume her duties in the third term this year, but one term is not long enough to teach the students all they need to know."
"Us?" Harry gaped at the Wizard opposite him, feeling Ron's shock as clearly as if it were his own. Madam Hooch wanted them to teach the first and second years to fly? Was she mad? They were taking their NEWTs this year, as well as additional instruction from McGonagal and Dumbledore on their Sympathetic Magic.
"You will be excused from History of Magic to take one year each," Dumbledore nodded, watching them closely, "I would not make this request lightly. Madam Hooch will be here this afternoon to review the curriculum with you both, and return on Wednesday to look over your lesson plans. That will give you five days to plan them, if you start this afternoon."
/Let's do it/ Ron's confidence warmed Harry's fingers /Come on Harry, you know you love to fly, and we are good at it/
/Are you sure? What about all the other work we'll have to do this year// Harry looked him in the eye and couldn't restrain the smile that formed in response to the eager twinkle and supportive love he saw there.
/We'll cope/ Ron shrugged//and just think, no History of Magic//
/You're teaching the second years then/ Harry crossed his eyes at his friend who laughed aloud.
"We'll do it," Harry turned to the Headmaster, who beamed at them happily and nodded once. Harry settled back into the couch, leaning against Ron while Dumbledore explained some of the duties they were required to undertake as flying instructors.
0oo0oo0
The school stadium was being extended to accommodate members of the public, and both teens noticed that there were a number of Aurors around the place, reinforcing the schools security with the teachers assistance and setting up security on the stadium itself. Ron heard Professor Flitwick talking to Professor Sinistra about the Hogwarts Express, which would apparently be ferrying spectators to and from the matches. Anyone who simply Apparated to Hogsmeade would be denied entry at the stadium, as the tickets were charmed to disintegrate if anyone Apparated with them, and the same went for portkeys. The Floo network would also be shut down in Hogsmeade on match days, and there was going to be a very strict patrol to stop people flying in on brooms.
Ron had agreed to take the second years on, knowing that he would be better able to instruct them in the agility skills and long distance flight than Harry, who flew mainly on his considerable talent and instinct and had trouble explaining how some of the moves he pulled on the Quidditch pitch worked. His partner was more than capable of learning the advanced techniques and moves that Madam Hooch drilled all four Quidditch teams on, but once learned he seemed to lose his ability to explain them to anyone else. In addition, the first years hadn't seen Harry fly before, and wouldn't until the first match of the school season. That meant that they wouldn't be attempting to pull moves they'd seen him do last year. By the time the first match of the year was played, Harry would have his students thoroughly under his control, and be able to avoid any accidents.
Part of their duties consisted of sitting down with the four Heads of House to discuss the playing schedule for the school teams. With the second term eliminated entirely from their program, the teams would have to start training in the first week, and playing against each other on the second Saturday of term. Ron was astonished to find that the four Heads of House were rather… competitive over this issue, especially when it came to making sure that their House got whatever advantages were going and denying the other Houses the same advantages.
Ron had been very relieved when that meeting was over, and he and his friend could escape to the library, where they had taken to working on their lesson plans. Professor Snape had followed them there to ensure that they would be fair to all four houses in their lessons, as Harry and Ron were both allowed to deduct points for misbehaviour. Ron had been proud when Harry had informed their Potions master that they were working towards school unity, and that they would treat the students according to their behaviour, not their House.
Harry had needed some reassurance after that little encounter, and Ron dragged him off to their common room, pulling him down onto a couch and kissing him breathless. They were just starting to really get into it when there was a gasp from behind them. Harry stiffened under Ron, and not in a good way. Ron pulled back from his partner reluctantly and turned to meet the wide eyes of Neville Longbottom.
"Hello Neville," Ron sat up slowly and carefully, pulling Harry up too and slinging an arm around his blushing friend, "How was your summer?"
"Er… it was really great, thanks," Neville stammered, moving to sit in a chair opposite them. Ron squeezed Harry in reassurance; his partner was shaking a little with nerves. Even after a year he was still apt to panic when faced with discovery of his and Ron's relationship. Neville was looking at Harry curiously, and Ron saw the exact moment that the light went on for their friend.
"I didn't know that you two were… involved," Neville looked at Ron rather helplessly, and Ron winked at him. It would be best to get it over with in one go, so that Neville, who obviously wasn't too worried about them being gay, could reassure Harry that he was still his friend.
"We've been together for a year. Actually, Neville, the garden we asked you to plan is for our house. We're getting married in January," he said it gently, and Neville grinned.
"Congratulations!" Neville got up to shake their hands, and Ron relaxed a little when colour came flooding back into Harry's face. A ripple of fingers at Harry's waist had his partner smiling and inviting Neville to the wedding.
"That would be brilliant! Thanks, Ron, Harry! I'd love to come!" Neville laughed, "Are you going to be spreading the news, or is this to be kept quiet?"
"We're keeping it quiet," Ron told their friend and Neville nodded, sitting back down. The partners promised not to neck in the common room any more and told Neville about their summer. Neville was back at school early to help finish the experiments that Professor Sprout had started during the holidays with his help. They settled into the chairs to swap stories and gossip for a while, Ron very glad that if someone had to walk in on him and Harry it had been the non-judgemental Neville.
0oo0oo0
Madam Hooch had approved their lesson plans, and given Harry and Ron the keys to the broom cupboard that stored the school brooms and the storage sheds that would house the second year's brooms. School rules didn't allow the second years to keep their brooms in their dorms, after a memorable year when the second years all hopped onto their brooms and went for an unauthorised midnight jaunt over the lake. Albus Dumbledore had almost been expelled over that little stunt, as had several other rather prominent persons.
They were on their way to tea, grinning at each other happily when running footsteps sounded behind them. Professor McGonagal had hitched up her usually long and elegant robes and was running full bat along the library corridor. Harry had a very bad feeling about this, as their Head of House was usually dignity personified.
"Mr Potter!" she exclaimed, "You're to go to the Headmaster's office immediately! You too, Mr Weasley! Run, boys!"
Harry broke into a flat out sprint, Ron beside him, his mind whirling with a thousand and one questions. Without conscious thought he found his wand in his hand, and each corner was scrutinised as they approached it. McGonagal was racing beside them, barely out of breath as she maintained her cracking pace. The gargoyle leapt aside as they approached and Harry ran up the moving stairs, Ron a scant step behind him.
"Professor?" Harry burst into Dumbledore's study, and the Headmaster held up a calming hand as Ron crashed to a stop beside him, red faced and panting hard, Minerva McGonagal a close third. She was breathing quickly, but not unduly distressed by the sudden turn of speed that she'd shown. Harry wondered how she did it.
"There have been several attacks on the Muggle-born's family by the Death Eaters," Dumbledore's voice was clipped and urgent, holding Harry's complete attention, "Harry, they have also targeted the Dursley's. While your schoolmates managed to defend their families by breaking the decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, the Dursley's were not so lucky."
Ron had moved to put an arm around Harry's waist, and the dark haired boy was grateful for the support. He didn't like the Dursley's at all, but he wouldn't wish harm on them, especially from Wizards. Magic was the thing they feared the most, and he could only imagine what had happened.
"Are they dead?" Ron's blunt and cold question drew Harry's dazed mind back to the situation. He shivered at the hate in Ron's voice - he knew it was on his behalf that the redhead hated that particular Muggle family and was sorry that he'd caused such a strong, unwelcome feeling in his friend. He looked over at Dumbledore for the answer and felt something in him lurch when the Headmaster hesitated.
"There was a death," Dumbledore said it gently and Ron grunted in Harry's ear as he took the dark haired boy's weight. Harry felt his partner haul him to a chair and grabbed at the old robes he was wearing, keeping him close. He'd once wished them all dead, in a moment of selfishness and anger, but he hadn't meant it.
"I didn't mean it!" he choked out and Ron wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding tight and bending to kiss Harry's head. McGonagal crouched in his line of sight and put her hand on his knee.
"Mr Potter, no one would have thought you meant them any harm, no matter what your feelings on the matter were. An angry wish made in the heat of the moment is understandable. No one thinks you wanted this to happen. It is not your fault."
Professor McGonagal never lied - not even to make a hard moment more bearable. Harry covered her hand with his own and nodded against Ron's side, taking a few deep breaths before straightening to look up at his Headmaster once more.
"Who?" he asked quietly, and Dumbledore sighed. He looked very sad and old for a moment, making Harry worry for his health. When he spoke his voice was gentle, warm and soothing. Harry felt himself relax a little in response.
"Your Uncle was killed when the Death Eaters cast several bloodletting curses at once. Your Aunt Petunia is in St Mungo's at the moment, she has been the victim of several nasty curses, and of course she witnessed her husbands… demise. Your cousin returned to the house just as the Death Eaters were leaving. He received only minor injuries. Their house was severely damaged in the attack, and the Muggle fire brigade was able to quench the fires in the upper storey."
"May I… see them? What will happen to Dudley now? When will Aunt Petunia be released from the hospital? Will we be able to protect them from other attacks?" the questions fired from his mouth without any direction from his brain and Ron's arms tightened in response, his partner crooning softly under his breath to calm Harry down. It worked too. Harry felt a sense of peace creep over his racing thoughts.
"You're going to the hospital now," Dumbledore confirmed, "Professor McGonagal will accompany you, as I must see to the rest of our students. As for the rest… that will have to be addressed at a later date."
With that he walked to the fireplace and opened a box. Harry stood up and took Ron's hand, leading him to the fireplace and taking a pinch of the Floo powder. He'd just have to deal with things as they came, and hope that he'd be able to keep the last of his mothers' family safe.
0oo0oo0
Ron steadied Harry onto his feet as the Healer summoned them to Petunia Dursley's room. The hospital emergency department had been controlled chaos as Muggles and Muggle-born Witches and Wizards were brought in from the latest attacks. McGonagal had told them to wait in a corner out of the way while she made inquiries for them. Harry had turned and buried his face in Ron's neck, and the redhead had been horrified to feel several tears wet his skin.
"It's not your fault, mate," Ron had crooned and Harry shook his head, unable to deal with the issue right now. Eventually his partner had calmed down enough to agree to sit side by side on the floor - all the chairs were full. McGonagal had taken a seat nearby after telling them that the Healers would come and get them when they could visit.
Ron had never really spoken to, or even looked at Petunia Dursley. The one time he'd been in her presence without it being an emergency, she had been trying to protect her son from gaining a second tail. When he'd found Harry lying broken on the hall floor, he'd been too afraid for his friend to pay any attention to anyone else. The painfully thin and pale figure in the hospital bed was wrapped heavily in bandages and looked nothing like the sharp faced dark haired woman that Ron vaguely remembered.
Harry moaned in pained recognition and reached out a shaking hand to touch the blanket covering his aunt. Ron wrapped his arm around his friends' waist again and rubbed at the hip his hand was perched on.
"She's not in any pain," Ron reminded him, "The Healers said that they've put her into a deep magical sleep while the worst of all this heals. They said that she should make a full recovery, but it will take a while. That's good news, right?"
"Uncle Vernon won't recover," the dull words had Ron tensing in anger. His partner was determined to blame himself for this whole thing, just as these awful people had taught him to. They'd spent all of Harry's life blaming him for things beyond his control and the lesson had sunk in. He shook the body he was holding lightly, and growled low in his throat, much as his Animagus form would have.
"Unless you personally encouraged and planned this attack then it's not your fault. No one thinks it is, and anyone who says otherwise will answer to me," he informed Harry sharply, "Do you really think that I'd love you the way I do if you were capable of ordering this?"
Harry shook his head, his eyes wide in surprise. He turned into Ron's body, accepting the support Ron was offering gladly. They held each other for a long time, Ron rocking them side-to-side lightly, simply taking slow breaths and rubbing Harry's back. After a while his partner took a deep breath and leaned back to peck him on the lips.
"Come on," Harry let go reluctantly, "I suppose we need to go and deal with Dudley."
"I have a few ground rules before we go anywhere near your dear cousin," Ron straightened, and glanced at the unconscious woman in the bed, "You stay next to me at all times, and if I pull you behind me you stay there. I won't have him touching you, and I especially won't have him too close."
"Ron," the protest was half-hearted, but Ron glared until Harry agreed. He wasn't letting his future husband anywhere near the bully who had nearly killed him, and when he said as much he got a sweet kiss and a short cuddle that had him feeling all warm and agreeable - the exact opposite of how he'd wanted to feel when facing Harry's would be murderer. While he knew all of Harry's 'sweet spots' the same could be said of his partner, who wasn't averse to manipulating them for his own purposes.
Dudley Dursley was sitting up in his bed, hunched over and snarling at a nurse who was trying to get him to lie back. Ron's skin crawled at the sight of the youth, who seemed to have lost a lot of weight very quickly, leaving him with a slightly sagging look to his body. There was a lot of muscle there still, and Harry was a bowstring of tension beside him as his partner came face to face with his cousin for the first time in a year.
Ron noticed tensely that he couldn't see Dudley's right hand, the teen was hunched over it and refusing to let the nurse draw it out for her inspection. As he was still conscious and able to respond coherently the Healers had put him to bed and assigned a nurse to clean him up while they dealt with the more serious injuries that were coming in. The tingle along his skin increased to an outright creep when Dudley spotted Harry. Without even realising what he was doing, Ron pushed Harry behind him and pulled out his wand - a habitual and unnecessary movement - sending a stunning spell to the teen that was launching himself off the bed.
Harry was shouting, as was the nurse who had been pushed to one side, astonished when the spell bounced off Dudley harmlessly. Ron felt their bond snap to life and Harry cast the body-binding spell over his shoulder as Ron put a shield between them and the rampaging teen. The knife that had been concealed in his hand clattered to the floor and Dudley went flying backwards onto the bed. Ron conjured some magical ropes to tie Harry's cousin to the bed as the nurse hit some kind of alarm. Aurors and Healers converged on them from all directions and Ron pulled Harry out of the doorway, sandwiching them into a more defensible corner.
0oo0oo0
"He was under the effects of the Imperio curse," Healer Goodsby sat down next to Harry and took his hand, "He didn't have any choice over his actions. Muggles have no way to fight the curse at all - even some Wizards can't manage it."
"I know," Harry sighed, "It's alright Healer Goodsby, I'm not going to demand he get locked up or anything."
She smiled at him and brushed her fingers over his hand a few times before letting go. Once Harry had woken up last summer, Healer Goodsby had made a point of stopping by his bed a few times a day to say hello and just chat to him. She had treated him like a normal person instead of a victim, as one nurse had, or a hero as one of the orderlies had.
"Are you sure?" she asked seriously, "From what I know you'd have every right."
"He's lost his dad!" Harry gaped at her, "I couldn't possibly…"
She nodded and patted his hand, glancing at the door when Ron burst in, responding to the tone of Harry's words more than anything else. Harry got up and wrapped Ron in his arms. His partner had defended him, knowing almost right away that what Harry had assumed was a symptom of his own uneasy memories was in fact a spell where there should have been none.
"Stuck with me," the words sent a warm glow through Harry, who nodded into the neck he was hiding in and squeezed in reply. They let go after a moment and Harry sighed into Ron's skin before stepping back. His partner smelled good to him, the scent of warm bread and salt said safety to Harry, and could relax him almost as fast as a scalp massage or having Ron rub circles in the skin at the small of his back.
"If you're ready, Harry," Goodsby stood up as well, smiling at them in understanding, "We've fully removed the Imperio curse from your cousin, and checked to ensure that there has been no other attempts to tamper with his will or his memory. It's safe to see him now."
"Ok," Harry nodded, taking a deep breath, "Let's get it over with."
"Remember, you stay beside me," Ron's low whisper was reassuring and Harry made a mental note to shag his partner stupid at the first opportunity. They followed Goodsby down the hall to the room that Dudley had been taken to after he'd tried to attack Harry once more. Professor McGonagal was there already, speaking quietly to a nurse. She moved to Harry's other side immediately, and Harry felt a rush of gratitude for her unspoken support.
"Dudley?" he asked gently, and the boy in the bed turned over to face him. Dudley had lost a lot of weight - in fact he was almost the right weight for his height and build. There were a few sagging folds of skin that spoke of sudden weight loss, and the muscles under his skin looked to be newly conditioned. His eyes were empty though, and his face showed the fear and misery that he was feeling.
"Dudley?" Harry shifted from foot to foot helplessly, wanting to reach out to the other teen but knowing that his cousin would probably see that as a threat. Dudley's face creased a little and Harry sighed.
"Dudley, you're in a Wizards hospital called St Mungo's. You're safe here, no one will hurt you. The Healers tell me that you're going to be fine," Harry gave his cousin a hopeful smile, and received a blink in response.
"Dads dead," Dudley's voice was low and despondent, "Did you know?"
"Yes, they told me at school," Harry nodded, "I'm… very sorry Dudley. Your mother is here too, and she's going to be fine. The Healers have her in a deep sleep at the moment to help her heal."
Ron's fingers were stroking his lightly, not saying anything, just touching to remind him that his friend was there for him. Dudley shifted a little in the bed and Harry tensed for a second before relaxing again. It had been an instinctive response on his part - even lying in a hospital bed, Dudley could rouse some very potent memories of pain and humiliation.
"What's going to happen now?" Dudley asked, drawing his hands close to his chest and biting his lip. Harry looked helplessly at Professor McGonagal who offered him a little smile.
"We've made arrangements for you to stay at Hogwarts this term, until we are certain that it is safe for you to return home. Your school will be sending the work you need to study this term and one of the Professors will tutor you in the afternoons," she said gently. Dudley looked at her in confusion and Harry remembered his manners.
"Dudley, this is my Head of House, Professor McGonagal. She's the best teacher we've got. And this is my partner… Ron Weasley. You've met him before," he stroked Ron's fingers lovingly, and Ron smiled at him before nodding at Dudley in a cool manner. Dudley frowned, trying to figure out where he'd met the redhead before, and obviously failing to. That was ok with Harry, he didn't really want to share Ron with anyone, let alone Dudley Dursley.
"When do I… go to your school?" Dudley looked sadly up at Harry, and Harry looked in turn to his Head of House. She smiled at him gently before answering the question.
"You'll spend the night here Mr Dursley, and come to the school tomorrow. I will collect you in the morning," she told him, "Mr Potter will meet you there."
Harry smiled in relief that he wouldn't have to take care of Dudley tonight, wondering where his cousin was going to sleep and study.
0oo0oo0
Vernon Dursley's funeral was held on the last Saturday of the holidays, and was attended by his son and nephew. Ron stuck close to Harry throughout the ceremony, fascinated by the Muggle ceremony but not wanting to burden his friend with his questions. They had transfigured a set of Muggle clothes from dark robes in order to be appropriately dressed for the funeral.
Several of Petunia's friends were present, gossiping quietly in the background, and Vernon's boss came up to speak solemnly to Dudley. The Muggle teen was silent and withdrawn, as he'd been ever since his arrival in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had received him gently, and informed him that he would attend each of Harry's classes, where he would be expected to work on the assignments his teachers had sent him. Dumbledore had then dismissed the trio - naturally Ron was present for this meeting - and Harry had taken his cousin to see Madam Pomfrey for a brief check up before showing him to the small bed sit/bathroom that the castle had arranged opposite Wrestler. The Fat Lady was the portrait over the door and the Gryffindor's had greeted her very cheerfully. She had told Dudley that the password was 'courage' and Ron had barely stifled a snicker of amusement.
Once the church part of the ceremony was finished, and by this time Harry was vibrating like a tuning fork from all the testimonials people had offered about Vernon Dursley's generous nature and friendly demeanour, Ron had steered both his partner and his partners cousin to the car that would take them to the cemetery. Someone had evidently arranged all this for the Dursley's as Petunia was still asleep, and Dudley had been in no fit state to do it.
At the graveside Ron stood with a hand in the small of Harry's back, just resting it there as his partner watched his cousin grieve for the loss of a parent. Harry had kept his promise to Ron and let him protect him from Dudley's touch. Ron knew that eventually he'd have to let up on the overprotective behaviour, but right now all he wanted was to take Harry back to Potters Field and hide in their unfurnished house for a few years.
The priest finished reading from his book and Dudley stepped away from the fat lady with many chins that had been holding his hand to put a flower on the coffin as it was lowered. This woman had been glaring at Harry ever since she spotted him in the church, and Harry had actually shrunk back from the hate in her eyes. Ron glared at her now as she whispered in Dudley's ear, patting his shoulder gingerly.
"Ron," Harry sighed, "Stop that."
Ron started, realising his fingers were kneading angry thoughts into Harry's back. He snatched his hand away in horror, meeting Harry's eyes in apology.
"I'm sorry, mate," he whispered, "I didn't realise that I was…"
Harry offered him a small smile and took a flower from the Muggle who was offering them to the people around the grave. Ron took one at his gesture and followed Harry closely when his partner went to put the flower on the shiny black wood that now housed Vernon Dursley. Harry was pale but dry eyed and Ron was a little worried that his friend hadn't let himself feel whatever emotions were roiling in his eyes.
"Potter," the fat woman strode towards them, and Ron felt Harry stop himself from running away. He moved so he was standing almost in front of Harry, their shoulders overlapping protectively. Professor McGonagal, who had been in the background the whole time, looking very strange to Ron in her dark Muggle skirt and blouse, started making her way through the other mourners to their side.
"Hello Aunt Marge," Harry's voice was flat and emotionless. Ron noticed that he didn't look up at his so-called Aunt.
"I suppose you think that your free ride will continue now?" she snapped, her voice as ugly as her face, and Dudley shifted uneasily from foot to foot behind her. Ron felt anger course through the slender body behind him and wanted to cheer when his partner replied in a tone so cool and adult that the woman in front of him actually stepped back in surprise.
"I never had a free ride, Aunt Marge. I paid for my high school education myself, and if you think that my so-called family made my time with them enjoyable then think again. Being starved and almost beaten to death for the crime of existing is not a punishment that anyone could possibly earn. I'll wait for you by that tree Dudley, when you're ready to return to the school."
"What school?" Aunt Marge sputtered ignoring the accusations of abuse as Ron had somehow known she would, "You can't mean St Brutus's!"
"He does not," Ron could have cheered when McGonagal spoke up coldly, stepping in front of her students as if to protect them, "Harry's Headmaster has agreed to take Dudley in for a term until his mother is well enough to see to the family affairs. I'm sure you were told that the terrorists that attacked the Dursley family were targeting them deliberately. It may not be safe for your nephew to return to his normal school. As for the school you refer to as St Brutus's, to my knowledge it does not exist."
Ron tugged Harry away then, walking him over to the tree he had indicated and slinging his arm defiantly around his waist, glaring at any Muggle that looked at them strangely. This time tomorrow they would be in the Great Hall for the Sorting feast, surrounded by their friends and looking forward to their first day as teachers. Despite the attack Ron knew that Harry was still enthusiastic about the coming term, perhaps even more than he would normally have been as the green eyed boy reached for the normalcy of school to counteract the last few upsetting days.
0oo0oo0
Beth greeted them with a happy shout, running forward to fling her arms around Harry's waist. She'd grown in the holidays, and her white hair had been cut into a layered style that made her look as if she had a silken pelt on her head. Harry hugged her back and smiled when she craned her neck to look at him. He still felt so tired, and Ron was hovering close, trying to give him comfort without smothering.
The Great Hall was bustling with students as they sorted out their seating arrangements at their House tables, moving around the Hall to greet their friends from other Houses as well. The school had been lucky: none of their Muggle-born students had lost their parents or any other family member in the recent attacks. Professor Dumbledore had to work hard to get Fudge to pardon them all for the multiple breaches of the Decree for Restriction of Underage Wizardry.
All of this flashed through Harry's mind as he glanced back at the boy sitting stiffly in a new robe that Harry had sent Hedwig to Diagon Alley for. Dudley was alone at the Gryffindor table, staring at all the teens and children around him in astonishment. Harry hadn't slept too well last night worrying that his cousin would become a target for some of the more aggressive students. Most Wizards had no real contact with Muggles and the Slytherin House would especially enjoy making Dudley's time at Hogwarts even more miserable than normal. Being stuck in a magical place without magic must have been frightening to his cousin.
Ron had taken Harry aside this morning and put a hand over his heart, promising solemnly that he wouldn't do anything to make Dudley's stay here unpleasant or frightening, for Harry's sake. That had taken a weight off Harry's shoulders, as he'd been wondering if he could even ask his friend not to hurt Dudley without insulting him.
"Who's that?" Beth asked, following Harry's line of sight and Harry sighed. Dumbledore was going to explain some of the circumstances surrounding his cousin to the students, but Harry just knew that most of them would be asking him questions of their own about the whole deal.
"My cousin, Dudley," Harry rubbed her back, "Did you have a good summer?"
"Brilliant! We went to the Isle of Wight and camped out for three whole weeks!" Beth bounced in excitement, keeping a firm grip on Harry as she did, "Have you ever been camping?"
"Ron and I camped out for most of the summer," Harry grinned at her enthusiasm, "It was pretty wicked."
The bell that McGonagal kept on hand to get the students to settle quickly rang once and Harry let go of Beth, urging her to sit with her classmates while he and Ron headed back to sit with Dudley. Hermione and Neville were already there and Dean and Seamus were sitting opposite the Muggle, examining him with narrow eyes. With a sinking heart Harry realised that they had figured out who the stranger was and Gryffindor's outraged loyalty was up in arms.
"I'll talk to them," Ron whispered in Harry's ear and pushed him into Hermione's arms. She made him sit next to her, leaving a spot empty next to Dudley for Ron. Harry's sharp eyes spotted her Head Girl badge and he hugged her in congratulations.
"Well done Hermy," he whispered in her ear. She smiled at him and left her arm around his shoulders. Harry was aware that Dudley was watching him with curious eyes, and did his best not to frown at him. Ron was crouched behind Seamus and Dean, speaking quickly and quietly. The doors to the Great Hall opened and Ron scurried around to his seat as Professor Snape led in the new first years.
"Sorted, mate," Dean whispered across the table, with Seamus nodding his agreement. Harry slumped a little in relief. Neville wouldn't tease Dudley - he'd had too much experience on the wrong side of bullies to turn into one himself, and Hermione had already said hello to his cousin quite politely.
They watched the first years get themselves sorted, and then Snape took the Hat and stool away while Professor Dumbledore stood up. He surveyed them all for a long silent moment, his face unusually solemn.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I have a few start of year notices for you. Firstly, I am sure that you have noticed that Gryffindor has a guest this term. The young man is here as my guest, and yes, as the more perceptive of you have noticed, he is a Muggle. As such he is unable to defend himself magically, though he is a boxing champion in his own right. I leave it to those of you who know what Boxing is to enlighten your Housemates at a later date. I must emphasise to you all that our guest is to be treated with utmost courtesy at all times," the Headmaster looked them all over, and seemed satisfied that he had made his point. He smiled at them and the twinkle in his eyes ignited.
"On a happy note, I am pleased to welcome back Professor Lupin as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore beamed at the former werewolf, who beamed back. Harry glanced up at the full moon shining from the ceiling, as did many of the students who remembered why Lupin had been forced to leave the school. Ron started a round of applause, which soon turned into cheers and yells from most of the students there. Harry was grinning his head off at the Marauder, who solemnly winked back at him. Snape looked disgusted at the whole thing, but Harry didn't care. He'd managed to help his fathers' friend and that went a long way to making him feel better.
"And finally," Dumbledore spoke over the last few claps, "I am sad to inform you that Madam Hooch is unable to join us until term three. Madam Hooch has been seconded to the Department of Magical Games and Sport in order to oversee the final details of the Seven Nations Cup. I realise that many of you have followed the story in the Daily Prophet, and I urge you all to read the Prophet thoroughly tomorrow morning."
There were whispered speculations all over the Hall and Harry looked down at his empty plate, trying not to smile. He caught sight of Ron, who was staring fixedly at the teachers' table in an effort to control his own expression. Professor McGonagal stood then, and Dumbledore gave her a little bow, sitting down and looking at her politely.
"The new Gryffindor tower was completed during the holidays, but members of my House will please note that they are to return to last years quarters. In addition the Fat Lady has been moved to the corridor wall opposite Wrestler. Please do not spend the entire night engaging her in conversation."
The Gryffindor table grinned at each other and shuffled a little on the benches. Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands, uttering his usual 'let the feast begin'. The tables filled with food and Harry noticed that Dudley had startled badly, paling and almost falling off his bench. When he made no move to help himself, Ron grabbed his plate, put a bit of everything on it and put the plate back in front of him with a growled instruction to eat.
"Do I have to dish up for you too?" Ron asked his partner and Harry blinked at him, then grinned a little hesitantly. He shook his head and reached for the mashed potatoes.
0oo0oo0
Hermione and Ron introduced the first years to Wrestler, while Dudley looked on. The Muggle had already been given permission to enter the Gryffindor common room, as Dumbledore felt it would be best to force some interaction with others on the bully. It would also ease Harry's burden, something that Ron was wholeheartedly in favour of. Harry was inside already, ushering the first years to their welcome speech with Ginny. Although he didn't have a Prefect badge, Harry had fallen into the habit of doing the Prefects duties with Ron. No one in Gryffindor challenged his right to do so, mainly because Harry wasn't lording over them. He did most of the unglamorous tasks and didn't boast about it.
Once the last student was inside, Hermione followed them, leaving Ron and Dudley alone in the corridor. The Fat Lady was chatting to Neville, and Ron glanced at them before gesturing for Dudley to walk with him
"I'm only going to say this once, Mr Dursley," Ron growled, "You damn near killed my partner last year, so we won't ever be friends. But Harry doesn't need the aggravation right now, so I propose a truce. You behave like a gentleman at all times, and I'll do the same. The minute I see you making a move towards him that I don't like, and boxer or not, you'll be on your arse so fast you won't know what hit you. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes," Dudley's voice was low and Ron nodded once, turning and heading back towards the common room. His step faltered when the Muggle kept walking straight ahead, but Ron decided not to follow the teen. He was in his majority by Wizard standards, and there wasn't much trouble that he could get into at this time of night.
Hermione was sitting in their room with Harry. Dobby had given them the same room as last year, so it was almost like home to Ron. He shut and sealed the door firmly before throwing himself into Harry's lap, getting an elbow in the side and a squirm for his efforts. He didn't mind, just made himself comfortable. The way Harry's hands crept around his waist showed that he was more welcome than his partner's actions had indicated.
"Ok, I know that you two know why we're back here," Hermione fixed them with her best impersonation of McGonagal's glare and Ron shuddered. Harry pretended to hide beneath him, suppressed laughter tickling around Ron's waist.
"Hermy! We're your friends, don't glare like that," he protested, "Besides, what would Professor Dumbledore think to see his Head Girl treating the Prefects like that?"
"Spill it Ron," Hermione was unmoved and Ron heaved a big sigh. Harry's giggles were almost audible now, little riffs of laughter that were warming Ron's heart. He couldn't deal sternly with anyone when he had Harry making him feel like this, and gave up all pretence.
"Madam Hooch has organised for Gryffindor tower to become the headquarters of two of the teams for the Seven Nations Quidditch Cup," he grinned at her, "And because she can't do all that and teach, Harry and I will be teaching the first and second years for the next two terms."
Hermione squealed loudly enough to make the room echo and threw herself into Ron's lap. He caught her with a grin and Harry sighed.
"I need to be able to walk again at some point," he complained, pretending to suffer through Hermione's hug. Ron gave her a surreptitious wink and tilted his head at his partner. She seemed to catch on, because she raised her eyebrows at them both and wiggled a little.
"Are you saying that Hermy is too heavy?" he oofed when she thumped him, and Harry laughed. Ron caught Hermione's wondering look and reflected that Harry's laugh was a rare thing indeed if their best friend didn't recognise it. From the twinkle in the green eyes shining lovingly up at him, Harry was in the mood to play a little, and Ron welcomed this sign of returning good spirits.
"No, I'm saying that you are. Hermy is perfect," was the teasing response. Ron retaliated immediately, ticking the body trapped under his, and yelling when Hermione attacked him. The armchair became a flailing mass of arms and legs until they fell to the floor, red faced and out of breath.
0oo0oo0
Harry sat at the House table, butterflies whirling in his stomach. The rest of his House had History of Magic this morning, which meant he and Ron would be teaching their first lessons in little under an hour. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the approaching trio.
"I assume that we're still practicing our 'do away with House pride' plan?"
Malfoy's greasy voice was like a hot poker on his skin, but Harry managed to look up calmly and say good morning to the blonde Slytherin, keeping all of his frustration inside. Malfoy settled into Ron's place, much to Harry's silent indignation. He stiffened when Goyle made Dudley shift further up, putting the Muggle next to him. Students all around the Hall were watching and Harry reached out to offer Dudley the toast rack as if the teen hadn't tried beating him into submission for most of their life.
If Malfoy was trying to put Harry off his breakfast he didn't succeed. Harry made himself take his normal serving and sighed when the owls with the morning post arrived. He made a mental note to ask Ron for the paper later, and started eating, hearing the first students discover the front page article that covered the Seven Nations Cup.
Ron entered the Hall - he'd been forced to stay behind to deal with a squabble among the third years, and sent Harry on ahead to start breakfast. His eyes narrowed when he saw who Harry was bracketed between, and before he could get over to the spot opposite his partner Justin Finch-Fletchley sat in it, waving his paper at Harry. The green-eyed teen forced a smile for his partner and then turned his attention to Justin's excited commentary.
"What's Quidditch?" Dudley's question was soft, but Malfoy heard it anyway and snorted into his pumpkin juice. Harry felt his cousin tense, and took a deep breath. The last thing he needed was to have Malfoy and Dudley at loggerheads this term. Better to step in now and set some ground rules.
"It's a bit like basketball, played on brooms with three hoops for each team," Harry explained, "There are a few more balls and some different rules, though. I'll get you a book on it. And Draco, if I were you I'd go see Madam Pomfrey about that cough - it doesn't sound healthy."
Malfoy gaped at him, and Justin blinked, a little startled at the tone Harry had used. He became aware that he'd used the same tone that had shut Madam Legales up so well, and bit down on a sigh. He really didn't want to turn into Percy, pompous mannerisms and condescending speech included. Making a mental note to keep a firmer grip on his emotions, Harry glanced at Dudley's empty plate.
"Come on, we've got to get going," Harry told his cousin and stood up, moving away from the table quickly. He heard Dudley get up to follow him and headed out to the large courtyard where Madam Hooch held flying lessons for the first years.
Once there he proceeded to the storage shed and unlocked it, getting his wand out and looking around. Dudley was sitting against the wall, pulling books out of his bag. There was also a shiny black pencil case and Harry stared at it for a moment before shaking his head. He'd become so used to using quills and ink that the Muggle made pens came as a surprise.
Turning his attention back to the shed, Harry flicked his wand and laid out the brooms in a double row, handles pointing in the way they had for his first lesson. He checked that everything was where it was supposed to be and then closed the shed door, locking it and clipping the key inside his robe. He moved to the middle of the field and held up his wand, facing the castle.
"Accio Firebolt," he said firmly, and waited for his broom to find him. He and Ron had both propped their brooms in their open bedroom window this morning, so as not to excite too much attention with their classmates. The Firebolt came racing around the corner and halted in front of him, almost humming with eagerness. Harry smiled and put his hand on the handle, rubbing his fingers over the gold script for a moment. Noise alerted him to his students' arrival and he turned, the broom in his hand to greet them.
"Right, everyone over here to start with," Harry informed them calmly, "I want a word with you all before we start."
He waited until they were standing in a clump in front of him and then nodded briskly. There was an even spread of Houses of course, and right now they were clumped together. With a bit of luck that would stop after a few weeks of spending their free time with each other and sharing meals together.
"Ok, my name is Harry and I'll be teaching you for the first two terms until Madam Hooch is back from the Seven Nations Cup. As I am your teacher I am able to add or subtract House points according to your behaviour. I expect you to do what you are told without argument or backchat, or you'll find that I have my own version of punishment that will make you beg for detentions. First off, who has ridden a broom before?"
Eight hands went up and Harry nodded. Five of them were Slytherins, which made sense. The Slytherin House tended to be the richest of the Purebloods, so it was likely that they would have their own brooms already.
"Fine," Harry gestured for them to put their hands down, "We're going to start with the basic features of all brooms."
He went on to explain about the cushioning spells and flight spells that even the most basic of brooms had, and then talked about how the broom was enchanted to read changes in your body weight to decipher what you wanted it to do.
Ten minutes later his class were standing beside their own brooms, their wand hand over the handle as they said:
"Up!"
0oo0oo0
Ron breathed deeply, taking in a lungful of his favourite smell - the wintergreen scent that said Harry. He was leaning back against the Transfiguration classroom wall, his partner pressed against him in a full body hug. Harry's head was hiding in Ron's shoulder, much the way he had the first time he'd reached out for comfort. Ron had his hands under Harry's robe, rubbing the small of Harry's back while the dark haired teen's fingers massaged the flesh at his waist. They were warm and their breathing was slow and peaceful.
Hermione was sitting in a desk, getting a start on her homework. Ron was glad that they had a friend who didn't mind that they cuddled together, as he hadn't had a chance to touch Harry since they got up this morning. The door that led to Professor McGonagal's study opened and Ron turned his head just enough to see the tall austere Witch enter the room and sweep over to her desk. She eyed them for a moment and then cleared her throat. Ron sighed into dark hair and dropped a kiss on Harry's temple, nuzzling to get him to lift his head.
"Come on mate, time to work," he whispered and Harry took a deep breath, lifting a slightly flushed face and rubbing his cheek against Ron's in an affectionate gesture before sighing and letting go. Ron smiled at him and went to sit in the desk in front of their teacher, tangling their fingers together and smiling up at their Head of House. She nodded once in acknowledgement and waved her wand at the board.
"We're going to start with some simple transfiguration spells that you have already mastered," she said, looking them over, "You must both be comfortable with the casting and the effects casting will have on your Magic. Unlike Charm work, where you are sending your Magic out in a simple command, the Transfiguration spells take more effort. The commands are not as simple, nor do they use a single step."
Ron listened carefully as McGonagal went on to outline the spells she wanted them to cast, one from each year of their schooling, starting out with a simple change from wood to metal and finishing with a tricky conversation of an inert material to a living, complex organism. Harry's fingers were absolutely still in his, a sure sign that his friend was focussed on his teacher and not his partner.
When Professor McGonagal handed over the matchstick they were to start with, Ron placed it on the table and looked over at his friend. Harry was frowning in thought, biting one of his lips and tapping his free fingers on his leg. Ron thought he looked adorable like that, and then focussed his mind on what they were doing.
/wands/ he suggested, and Harry nodded.
/we should probably stand back too, maybe get them to step back as well, this is going to require some power/ he agreed. Ron voiced their request, tugging Harry up and back until he felt that they would be safe enough if something went wrong. Hermione and McGonagal were standing behind the teacher's desk, watching them and the matchstick with equal curiosity.
/speak it aloud, I'll provide the focus/ Harry raised his eyebrows and Ron nodded. Their instincts for who would be the best caster for any particular spell had been honed in Charms, and developed neatly in Potions. They'd switch off for each transformation, depending on who had the strongest ability for each one.
Ron felt the bond warm and become an almost living presence in the room. Without any further communication he raised his wand and cast the first spell, smiling a little when the match turned into a needle. He then turned the needle into a spoon and then a teapot, and Harry took over, converting the teapot to a slightly glowing cauldron. They cast together to partially transform the cauldron's contents into a complex, multi-part, metallic fish.
The bond was humming and Ron felt tremors in Harry's fingers that spoke of rapidly approaching exhaustion. Ron grit his teeth, knowing that they had to either get this next part done quickly or fail entirely. They levelled their wands in perfect unison, converting the cauldron and fish to a crystal sculpture. The bond failed them before they could cast the final spell, draining away like water down a drain, all their energy leaving them in a rush. Ron slipped painfully to his knees, dimly aware that a sweat dripping Harry was bent double beside him. They were both gasping for breath, and pale, their hands shaking and their robes soaking wet.
"Ron!" Hermione's voice sounded in his ears and he felt her hands on his shoulders. He was too tired to look up at her, and closed his eyes, intending to gather his energies for a moment. He'd get up in a moment, he just needed to catch his breath…
0oo0oo0
Harry sighed, rolling onto his side. The hospital wings sheets were all too familiar to him, and he took a moment to get his thoughts in order before opening his eyes. Ron was in the next bed, he'd know that slight snore anywhere - he'd had it in his ear for the past year and intended to have Ron snore in his ear for the rest of their lives. He felt… drained, but Madam Pomfrey could give him a potion for that. He also felt… foolish. He and Ron had both failed to set up any safeguards for their bond, draining themselves so badly that they blacked out.
They had been casting as if they were individuals, not a bonded pair. Instead of allowing the Sympathetic Magic to eddy and pool, they had pulled the plug out of the bottom and drained it away. They had used their full strength to transfigure the simpler things, leaving themselves too little energy at the end.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice was tentative and Harry smiled for her, opening his eyes. He pushed up against his pillows until he was half sitting up. Madam Pomfrey was approaching with a tray and morning sunlight was slanting across the ward. They'd been in here all night, then.
"Good morning," Harry sighed, "Sorry, Hermy. Did we give you a scare?"
"Not really," she denied it, though her eyes said otherwise. He put out a hand and she took it with a little shake of her head. Madam Pomfrey handed over his potion and he drank it off in one gulp. Pepper Up potion might make you feel better, but as with all medicine it tasted awful.
"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry gave her cup back and waited until the steam stopped pouring out of his ears. He made a mental note to send Hedwig for more of the ingredients that made the potion - he had a feeling that he and Ron would need to be able to brew their own this year. Classes were even more intense than they had been in the fifth year, and they were teaching as well as playing for Gryffindor this year.
Ron rolled onto his side, and the school Matron bustled around to his side, pulling him up carefully and supervising as he drank the concoction with a grimace and a gag. Ron looked over at Harry with a doleful expression.
"I think I know what we did wrong," Harry offered and Ron grimaced again.
"Me too," his friend sighed, "Madam Pomfrey, may we go back to school today?"
"You may, though I want you to eat very large meals today. Not that it would be a change for you, Ronald Weasley, you usually eat enough for three people," the Matron was smiling as she said this, and Ron grinned back at her, pushing the blankets back and moving his legs to stand up.
"I'm a growing boy," he said cheekily, and she shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. Wagging a finger in his face she warned him that he'd start growing out instead of up if he wasn't careful, and discharged them both from her care.
It took them ten minutes to get dressed and retrieve their bags, meeting Hermione in the Great Hall. She'd saved them seats, and thankfully they weren't sitting with Malfoy this morning. Dudley was sitting at a corner of Gryffindor's table, mostly ignored by the students near him. Harry sighed and made a mental note to spend some time with his cousin. It wouldn't do to let the teen be isolated, especially after he'd lost his father to Wizards.
They started Tuesdays with double Divination, and Hermione went off to Arithmancy. Dudley trailed along behind them until they reached the ladder and Harry turned to look at his cousin.
"Um, Dudley, this is Divination. It's mainly about horoscopes and stuff. I know that your mum didn't think much of this stuff, but it would really help if you didn't, well, upset Professor Trelawny. She's… unusual for a Witch," he offered a weak smile and Dudley scowled.
"You really think I'm stupid enough to tick off a teacher?" he growled and Harry felt Ron bristle beside him in response. Dudley also noticed and rather surprisingly backed down. Feeling as if this was a huge mistake, Harry climbed the ladder, his cousin close behind him and Ron in the rear.
Professor Trelawny's classroom was as stuffy and over scented as always, and Harry led his group over to a trio of chairs near the window, painfully aware that Professor Trelawny was eyeing Dudley with extreme interest. To his relief she didn't say anything to them, merely turning to the class and adjusting her many shawls for a more dramatic effect.
"This year we will be covering many difficult topics, my dear children, including the art of scrying," her breathy voice wafted over them all, and Harry pulled out his book, opening it to the correct chapter without waiting for her to continue. He'd found that reading the chapter she was talking about was easier than listening to her long-winded descriptions of the process, and this year their book was particularly articulate.
"Mr Potter!" the insistent call was accompanied by a nudge of Dudley's foot on Harry's ankle. Harry looked up at the touch, realising that Trelawny was waiting for him beside the fireplace, a burning candle held out in one hand. Harry got up and walked to the front, reaching out a hand and wrapping his fingers lightly around the candle. Professor Trelawny didn't let go when he tugged and Harry resigned himself to being made into an example. He wondered how he was going to die this year, glancing back at Ron, who was smirking behind his hand. Dudley was also watching with fixed attention, ignoring the work in his lap.
"Now, Mr Potter," she purred, "I want you to concentrate on the flame. Unlike the Orb, candle scrying requires that the scryer focuses their mind very precisely."
Harry took a deep breath and nodded, then pulled the candle from her hand when she seemed to relax. Ignoring her startled blink and Ron's stifled snigger, Harry turned so he was facing the trapdoor, his eyes fixed on the unwavering flame. The heat from the candle was unusually intense and it caressed his face, drawing his attention. Mesmerised, he stared into the flame, the tower and the people around him slipping away almost without his notice.
There was an unusual double glint of copper in the flame in front of him and Harry focussed on it curiously. As he watched, it resolved into Fred and George, the twins pointing their wands and shouting at someone. They were in a street, or alley somewhere, and as he watched a stone wall beside them crumbled, falling down on them, burying them both. Harry shouted in horror and the vision slipped away, returning him to the classroom with a jolt as the candle fell to the floor and extinguished itself.
"Ron!" Harry stumbled forward, ignoring the rest of the students and grabbing for his partner, "The twins! We have to get to the twins!"
Ron was pale and shaking, but Harry ignored it, grabbing his friend by the hand and dragging him to the trap door. They had to get to Dumbledore - the Headmaster would be able to help them.
0oo0oo0