"Quick boys!" Molly Weasley shouted as the Hogwarts Express guard blew his whistle and carriage doors started slamming shut.

Harry managed to throw his trunk onto the train with the help of Ron, and then clambered onboard after it. Arthur stood beside his wife waving off the last of the Weasley children, flanked by Fred and George. As Harry leaned out of the carriage window, waving goodbye with Ron, he felt his stomach flinch at the thought that this could be the last time he ever saw the family of redheads.

As if reading his mind, Mrs. Weasley suddenly called out that they would all be together for Christmas, no matter what. Harry's spirits lifted slightly as the train started rolling out of the station. He was on his way back to Hogwarts, where nothing could reach him. Where Dumbledore was. Ron and Ginny started arguing about who was sitting where, while Hermione gave a highly undignified snort and started to read a thick leather bound tome. Harry settled back in his seat and felt some of the tension begin to leave his body. Perhaps it would be alright.

As if to remind him of what was to come, the slowly healing burn on his arm sent a jolt of pain through his body. Harry gave a small yelp and clutched his arm, making the members of the compartment look at him in shocked silence.

"Harry, are you not telling us something?" Hermione asked over the top of her book, before putting it on the seat beside her. 'That girl can be so shrewd sometimes,' Harry thought, only slightly viciously. After all, it was his own fault for drawing attention to himself. Harry shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of everyone. He couldn't tell them about the Dark Mark. Not on top of everything else. They would think he had joined Voldemort, and was performing as some kind of spy, or at least had been made to tell the secrets of the Order. Harry flinched again as the burn sent out another twinge of pain. Truth be told, Harry could not fully remember anything that happened whilst he had been Voldemort's prisoner. Just lots of pain, and hard, everything was…

"Harry, what is wrong with you?" Ron's abrupt question jolted Harry from what he was trying to remember. He opened his mouth to reply when the compartment door slid open, revealing a smirking Malfoy in the doorway.

"Ah, Potty's holding court again." Harry knew from the malicious grin plastered across Malfoy's smug face what he was going to say next, but he seemed to be unable to move or speak, frozen in trepidation.

"But I wander if he has told his court of his new…tattoo… What do you think, Goyle?" Ron sat back down again, after rising to Malfoy's bait, as the troll-like boy came to stand next to the pale Slytherin Prince. But Hermione's eyes were firmly riveted on Harry. Her voice, when she spoke, was abnormally high pitched.

"We know, Malfoy. Now get out, before we hex you worse than last summer."

The look that crossed would almost have been comical, had anyone been taking notice, but they barely even heard the door slide shut as he made a hasty exit with Crabbe and Goyle. Ron was exchanging puzzled glances with Ginny and Neville, whilst Hermione has still not dropped her gaze.

"Tell us what happened while you were with You - Know - Who, Harry." Again, the oddly high pitch. Now everyone's eyes were once again fixed on Harry.

"I…I got…I mean, I was forced…I had no choice, although he said everyone has a choice and…"

"Just tell us Harry!" Hermione's shriek was enough to make the four others jump. She had never raised her voice like that before.

"I received the Dark Mark from Voldemort." And with that Harry rolled up his sleeve, and displayed the foul black burn on his arm. But he kept his eyes downcast. How could he look at any of them again?

A sigh of relief seemed to come from Hermione, which certainly was a shock after the way she had behaved mere moments before, and Harry's eyes flew up to search her face for any signs of disgust. But there were none. In fact, she just picked up her heavy book and continued to read, ignoring Ron, who was currently gaping like a fish. Ginny and Neville, sensing something about to happen, made some hurried excuses and left, giving Harry quite a wide berth, as if he were about to leap up and perform the killing curse on them all.

With the door closed, and Ron's mouth still open, Hermione heaved another sigh, this one of aggravation and put down her book once more, carefully marking her place. It was something she had suspected since Harry's return. After all, why would You-Know-Who just return Harry, virtually unharmed, after barely a day? It had made no sense. But now…

"Harry, why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked, his voice tight with unreadable emotion. Harry looked away again, but his hands started clenching. Hermione could see that a fight was on its way.

"Ron, Harry had his own reasons, I'm sure, for not telling us. You would have done the same if it had happened to you!"

But Ron was working himself up into a state.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us! Dumbledore I can understand, but we're your best friends. Or maybe you didn't want to tell us so we'd tell you secrets about the Order. Is that it? Are you now a spy?" Harry's head shot up and Hermione looked fearfully between the two boys.

"We don't need to…" but she was cut off by Harry's outburst.

"I AM NOT VOLDEMORT'S SPY!" Ron cringed at the look of outrage on Harry's face. "You didn't even try to help me when I was captured; in fact, I seem to remember it was me protecting you. And then you go and bloody accuse me of being his spy? You…You…" but Harry could not find words worse enough to describe Ron. Instead he grabbed his loose belongings and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the sliding door shut behind them so hard that the glass broke.

"Reparo," said Hermione softly, waving her wand at the shards on the floor. She turned to Ron.

"For goodness' sake Ron, you really need to think about what you say. How do you think Harry is coping with this? And he won't be speaking to us after this, so he'll be going through it alone! You can be so thoughtless sometimes." She sat down in a huff and stared out of the window.

Ron shot her a pleading look, but she refused to acknowledge it.

"I didn't know! It was a shock! I'll go and apologise to him…" Ron looked so abject that Hermione had to respond.

"I only realised when he clutched his arm before Malfoy came in. And then Malfoy just confirmed it. That slimy git does have some uses I suppose." Hermione sighed. "Ron, Harry won't be forgiving us any time soon you know. He has been through a lot, and that was pretty below the belt as far as he was concerned. Yes I know you didn't mean it," she said hurriedly as Ron opened his mouth to protest. "But Harry thinks you're turning against him. Again. Let him have the journey alone, and try and speak to him in the morning."

Ron let out a grunt, to show that he accepted her plan and turned to face the window, mentally cursing himself for his loud mouth. He stared out of the rain-splattered window moodily for the rest of the journey.


Harry sat alone at the beginning of term feast. There were people around him, Seamus and Dean had no clue that anything was wrong until Ron deliberately sat away from Harry. Neville and Ginny made an obvious effort to act natural, although one could hardly help but notice that there was a strained quality to their conversation with Harry. All in all, he had never felt more alone.

At the end of the feast everyone looked expectantly at Dumbledore. After the events of last year he would surely say something on the subject. He did not disappoint the students, and as he stood up, his face was grim.

"It is important not to live in fear, although in these times it is difficult not to. So, to banish this fear," Dumbledore's face broke into a smile. "I have decided to reinstate the original Defence Association, or as many of you would know it, Dumbledore's Army."

There was a shocked silence that followed this announcement, before the portion of students who had been involved in the Army set up a roar of cheers and shouts. Harry sat there astounded. Was he being asked to lead it again? To prepare the school for an attack by Voldemort? His unspoken question was answered quickly by Dumbledore.

"Of course," he said, once the noise had died down a little. "Harry Potter will be leading it; it seems he has the most experience." There were a few laughs from the Slytherin table at this, but everyone else was deathly quiet. They had all heard about the death of Sirius, and those who had not known what this meant were soon informed by others.

"He will be assisted by members of staff, but he will be in charge. And it will take place on Friday evenings, after dinner, in here. It will be compulsory, meaning that anyone who does not, or cannot attend, will have to see Mr. Potter, and be given whatever punishment he sees fit."

Harry sat ashen-face, barely noticing the fact that every single person's attention was now focused on him. More lessons. Whilst trying to combat Voldemort.

'Bloody brilliant.' Harry thought as the hall cleared out around him, the students heading back to their separate houses. Angelina came up to him and mentioned something about Quidditch practice, but he did not hear a word as he stood up and pushed past her on the way to his dorm. He had been back barely 5 hours, and already this year was heading for one of the worst yet, what with no friends, becoming a member of the teaching staff, and…Voldemort. Harry wished he could just end it now as he followed a newly sorted first year through the portrait hole. Ignoring the calls of various students, he crossed the common room and hurried up the stairs to the boys' dormitories; he did not feel much like talking at the moment.

Neville was sitting on one of the beds when Harry entered.

"Hullo, Harry." said Neville, looking apprehensively at Harry, who gave a strange mix between a greeting and a grunt in reply.

"Look, I just wanted you to know that I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. I mean, about the…thing…on you arm…" Neville trailed off when he realised Harry had merely climbed into bed and had drawn the curtains on the stuttering boy. He cast around for something more to say, and finally settled on a "Good night, Harry." before leaving the circular room and hurrying down into the common room, where friendlier people awaited him.


It had been a restless night for Harry, and judging by the amount of rustling and lack of snores from Ron's bed, it had been restless for him too. But he refused to ask if his friend…former friend was alright.

Ron had also noticed that Harry had barely slept, and decided on a course of action once the pale pink light of dawn filtered in through the windows. He quietly got out of his bed and crept over to Harry's. Pulling back the curtains a little, he climbed onto the bed, and sat at the foot of it, waiting for Harry to say something. He was rewarded with two very silent, very awkward minutes before Harry stopped pretending to be asleep. He sat up and looked at Ron.

"What do you want? I have nothing to say to you." said Harry in a harsh whisper.

"Well, I have something to say to you," shot back Ron.

"Obviously."

"What happened yesterday on the train, I was a complete git for behaving like that. It was just the shock; I know you of all people would never be a spy." Ron looked at the cover on Harry's bed, as if decided what to say. "I guess, well, I'm just trying to say I'm sorry, mate, and neither me nor Hermione want you to go through all this alone."

Harry thought about refusing Ron's apology for a moment. And then he thought of the long year ahead of him, without any friends. He made up his mind.

"It's ok." Ron's face lit up. "You prat."

Ron dived at Harry, and a short play-fight ensued before the curtains around the bed were drawn back by a very disgruntled Seamus.

"SOME of us are trying to sleep. And will you two get a private room!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other with a mixture of horror and amusement, before realising exactly what it must have looked and sounded like to the other members of the room. They dissolved into fits of laughter at the very thought, and both chucked a pillow at Seamus.

"Right! That's it!" he roared, and grabbing his wand, bewitched two pillows to fly at Harry and Ron. Neville and Dean, who by this time had been rudely awakened by the noise, joined in, and soon feathers were flying around the room.

Harry stood on his bed, pillow in hand and looked at the mess around him, laughing. Perhaps this year would not be quite so bad after all.


A.N: yay! A little longer than usual. I set out a proper plan today, ( a week by week thing of Harry's time at school etc.) and have realized that this will probably take a long time to write...so look forward to lots of chapters!

Shloki: I have never heard of the town Stockholm in Maine. However Stockholm is the capital of Sweden, and 'Stockholm Syndrome describes the behavior of kidnap victims who, over time, become sympathetic to their captors. The name derives from a 1973 hostage incident in Stockholm, Sweden. At the end of six days of captivity in a bank, several kidnap victims actually resisted rescue attempts, and afterwards refused to testify against their captors.' This description, which is from an online site, is what I based my story on. And thanks!

HoshiHikari: The brand was the dark mark…I swear I explained that? Or at least it came across in subtle hints…:S

Circe: I do like writing the death eater bits…it's the whole thinking up evil punishment bits I think…mwehehe. But none in this chapter. Shame.

Stardust, Taurus and Horsefly: here you go! And you are all lovely for reviewing lots!

Lady Apolla: Thank you! And yes he will get his ass kicked…but as to who does it? Well it's a question that confounds us all…

J752572: it really caught my imagination (as you can see). So all is good!

Fippets: thank you lovely! Glad you're enjoying it, and hope it's inspiring you :P Wait and see what Harry goes and does…hopefully it's a little unexpected…

And finally, speaking of unexpected, I'm going to plug my other fic, The Unexpected, here, because it's lacking reviewers, and though it's not a great story, it feels lonely without them. And while you're at it…Loose Ends has even less ;)

JM xx