He took a step backwards, his heart failing him. With all the strength he could muster, he knocked firmly on the door and stepped inside. Professor Trelawny gasped, turned a milky white and hid behind a pink veil that was hanging off the ceiling. Dumbledore smiled warmly at him.

"Harry! As nice as it is to see you, I must protest. Surely you need to be in your lesson?" he asked calmly. Harry was dumbfounded, he had overheard a conversation about him ATTACKING a teacher, and Dumbledore was acting like he hadn't a care in the world.

"My bag," Harry mumbled vaguely, gesturing to his seat. Dumbledore nodded, and with a flick of his wand, it zoomed across the room, hit Harry in the chest and knocked him backwards. He sat up, wheezing and grabbed the bag.

"I must apologise, I must have used a bit too much power there, my old age," Dumbledore said. Harry tried to laugh, but it came out as a high pitched squeak.

"Off you go then, I need to speak to someone," Dumbledore pushed him out of the room and shut the door with a click.

Hagrid smiled at Harry as he wandered towards the hut, though his smile seemed wary. Hermione waved, and beckoned Harry over. He walked. Slowly.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked, nudging him I the ribs.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered, Hermione looked concerned.

"Is it bad?" she whispered back, Harry nodded. Three shadows came up behind them. Harry peered round his shoulder and groaned. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle stood there, Malfoy smirking stupidly, his slick blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight.

"Well if it isn't Potty and the Weasel, and the little Mudblood as well!" he crowed, in mock delight. Ron scowled.

"Push off Malfoy," he warned, "or else,"

"Or else what? Will you pop your boil on me?" he smirked. Ron glared, and self consciously covered the boil with his hand.

"Go away Malfoy," Harry said tiredly.

"Ahhh am I making Potter upset?" he drawled, flicking Harry on the chin. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed. Both Harry and Ron launched themselves on Malfoy at the same time, despite shrill pleas from Hermione. Harry tightened his fist and whacked Malfoy in his mouth, and Ron was attempting (and failing) a Bat Bogey Hex. Hermione wrenched Harry off Malfoy, and despite a split lip, Malfoy was still smirking.

"I'd leave him if I were you Mudblood, he seems to be attacking everyone at the moment," Harry's heart missed a beat, "he might attack you next." The trio sauntered off, leaving Ron cursing, Harry hardly breathing, and Hermione asking high pitched questions.

"Harry? Harry? Harry, what does he mean 'He seems to be attacking everyone at the moment'? What's been going on? Is this what you were going to tell us about? Harry? You really shouldn't have hit him; you know he was provoking you…but why? Stupid question really, he is always trying to provoke you! Oh but Harry, what's going on?" she finished dramatically. Harry shook his head, and rubbed his scar, as if for help.

Hagrid hurried over, hastily handed Hermione a Sloughworm and rushed to another group.

"Malfoy knows something,"

Harry slumped down on a chair by the fire, and Hermione and Ron tentatively sat next to him

"Harry, mate, what does Malfoy know?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded in agreement with the question.

"I, I don't know," Harry muttered.

"You must have some idea," Hermione urged bossily, her frizzy hair standing on end.

"Well, from what he was saying, it has something to do with Professor Trelawny," he muttered vaguely. Hermione frowned.

"Professor Trelawny? But, what has she got to do with it?" she demanded.

"And Dumbledore," Harry continued. Ron rubbed his forehead.

"Dumbledore would tell you if it was anything to do with V-V-Voldermort wouldn't he?" he asked anxiously. Harry nodded.

"Of course he would, he always has," he said. It was true, over the past five years, Dumbledore had always told the school, or Harry about Voldermort. It couldn't have anything to do with him!

"Harry! PLEASE tell us what's going on!" Hermione urged desperately, her hands clasped, so that her nails dug into her skin. Reluctantly, Harry told Ron and Hermione about the conversation he had overheard. Hermione gasped, and Ron widened his eyes.

"What? What are you doing that for?" he asked Hermione, who was nervously jiggling on her chair.

"Harry, do you think…well, do you think that maybe you did attack her?" she whispered. Harry shook his head immediately.

"Of course not!" he half shouted, glancing at Ron for agreement.

"Mate, if Dumbledore knows about it…well…he wouldn't lie would he?" he said. Harry opened his mouth to retaliate, but found he had no answer.

"As much as I hate saying this Harry, Ron's right!" Hermione said, her eyes were warily fixed on Harry.

"Yeah, but, I wouldn't attack old Trelawney, even if she is an old bat!" he joked. No one laughed. Hermione stared at him, through her chocolate brown eyes.

"Harry, this is serious," she said hoarsely. Harry's temper was rising.

"Well thanks a bunch Hermione! I came to you two for support, and all you're doing is making me miserable! Do you think I don't know this is serious? Do you think I'm that stupid?" he shouted, Hermione flounced back in alarm.

"There's no need to bit my head off," she mumbled.

"Mate, try and calm down, we're trying to help!" Ron said, trembling. Harry's face flushed red, he felt like an erupting volcano.

"I don't need your help! This isn't like other times when we could look a name up in a book and our answer would be there! This isn't like other times when we had Dumbledore to go to! Dumbledore was my only hope then, him and Sirius. What am I supposed to do now?" he demanded, his voice shaking at the memory of his dead godfather. Hermione reached out to pat Harry on his shoulder, but he turned away.

"Harry, you can come to us," she said, meaningfully.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Harry spat, "I don't want to go to you! You can't help me this time! No one can!" he yelled. There was a short silence, and Hermione's arm stayed, hovering in the air. Ron turned to Harry.

"Harry, don't you think you're over reacting? I mean, it was one conversation, there has to be some kind of mistake!" he urged, trying to make Harry see sense.

"A mistake? You think this is a bloody MISTAKE? Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes Ron; he is the most powerful wizard in the world! How could he make MISTAKES?" Ron flinched. He muttered something about 'suggestion' and 'trying to help'. Hermione flared up, and jumped out of her seat.

"You know Harry, you're really lucky! Don't pull that face! I know you're thinking about how unlucky you are, and I understand; I DO! I know you have no family apart form your Aunt and Uncle, I KNOW that you seem to think everyone is against you but they aren't! Every year, me and Ron have stuck up for you, helped you solve your problems, and how to do YOU help US? By shouting at us! I don't understand Harry! You are the luckiest person I know for friends, because if you looked in the mirror, and you LISTENED to the way you spoke to me and Ron, you would agree with me too! You shout at us, and not ONCE have I heard a word of apology, Harry, not ONCE! I don't know why I bother being your friend at the moment Harry, and quite frankly, I am SICK of it!" Hermione screamed. Tears dribbled down her peachy face. There was a long silence. Harry blinked.

"Blooming heck, Hermione," whispered Ron, flicking bits of stuffing into the fire. Harry stared his best friend out, but he broke first.

"I wish you did understand Hermione, but you don't, and if you dislike me so much, I wish you could have told me. I'm going to bed, night," he mumbled. Hermione gasped as tears dripped down her cloak. Harry walked away slowly, not looking back.

He was floating along the corridor, his feet dragging up the tall tower stairs, his wand clutched in his hands. He knocked on the door…

"Harry? Harry, wake up!" he jumped, and opened his eyes. Ron was leaning over his bed, and sunshine was pouring through the window.

"You have two letters, you weren't there at breakfast to get it yourself," he mumbled, holding out two letters in the palm of his hands, he blushed, making his freckles blend in perfectly. Harry sat up, and tore open the first letter.

Dear Mr Potter,

Please not that your detention for Potions will be held on Monday 29th September. You are to wait outside the Great Hall.

Professor Severus Snape

Harry tossed the letter aside with scorn and ripped open his second letter.

Harry, (aka Business manager)

This is Fred and George from Weasley's wizard wheezes! It is our pleasure to be able to tell you that our business will be officially opened next Tuesday, gone to Hogsmeade; our shop is hard to miss! If you are our thirtieth customer, you will receiver a free box of Nosebleed Nougat, Coughing Cherry drops, Skiving Snackboxes and Dehydration Delights to keep you out of lessons for a year! See you there (if not we will send you Butobuter pus in a letter!

Fred and George

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

Harry chuckled, and remembered that Ron was still standing there. He glanced at him, Ron looked curious.

"What's on it?" he asked. Harry glared at him.

"None of your business," he growled. Ron scowled at him.

"It was Hermione who was rude to you, NOT me!" he protested, Harry shrugged.

"You agree though don't you?" he stopped and saw Ron's hesitant face, "Look, whatever, lets sort it out later. Letter one detention details from Snape, though the git didn't even tell me I had one, letter two, Fred and George, declaring the opening of their shop."

"Great! Are we going then?" Ron asked eagerly, Harry hesitated, but nodded.

"Sure, it won't do any harm,"

Just then Hedwig swooped in through the open window, a roll of parchment in her beak. Harry grinned, and took the letter from Hedwig; she nipped his finger with her beak.

"Ow! Hedwig! What's this?" he asked, speaking out his thoughts. He unrolled the parchment and read the letter.

Mr Potter,

Come to my office IMMEDIATELY!

Professor Dumbledore