A/N: So, sorry for the delay. Lots of problems in RL that kept me from working on the chapter. But most of those have been resolved, so hopefully I'll be able to get back on the writing track. OH! And because of the random crap that was going on this past month and change, I might have lost your review…so I'm very very sorry if your name isn't on the thank you list.
Also, this story does NOT take into account OotP….as I've said before, and I'll say again (bares teeth and eyes gleam red) he lives…..he lives.
DISCLAIMER: Do I look like JK Rowling to you? I didn't think so. Don't SUE me for the love of God, I have no money anyway.
Again, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO'S REVIEWED!!
Chapter 24: Gryffindor vs Slytherin
The Headmaster's office was bathed in warm afternoon sunlight, in direct contrast to the mood of the occupants within it. Albus regarded his colleague over the rims of his glasses carefully; Professor Flitwick sat opposite of him, his nervous hands twisting together in his lap. The dappled light from the stained glass windows painted him in a variety of colors – that did nothing to hide the worried and grim expression on his face. The Headmaster sat in silence for a long moment, mulling over the smaller man's words.
According to the Charms Professor, the Cwn Annwn were the hounds of Gwyn ap Nudd, the Lord of the Dead and the ruler of Annwn in Celtic myth. The Lord was, in myth, not the best of men, and his hounds were one of his more favorite forms of punishment for those who angered him. They were relentless, cruel and vigilant – the Hounds would not rest so long as their prey was alive. They would not sleep nor eat until their mission was completed, and they would go through anyone, and anything they needed to in order to get their mark. If Voldemort had decided to send his captured Hounds after Harry…In short, the Headmaster had a very messy situation on his hands.
"Do you have any idea how susceptible they are to spells?"
Flitwick shrugged and looked down at his hands, squirming a bit. "No one knows, sir. No one's really had the chance to test that theory out on them." Albus sighed and took a sip of tea. He let his eyes skim over the contents of the room, finally letting them rest on the flickering movement of the fire that was burning steadily in the grate.
"This produces quite a problem if Voldemort decides to use the Cwn Annwn on Harry. It puts the rest of the children at Hogwarts at risk." Flitwick nodded miserably. "Is there any way to contact the Lord of the Dead?"
The other man looked at Albus warily, his eyes wide and mouth partly open. "Albus – he's a god. A rather fussy and irritable one, I might add. That could just compound the problem."
"Indeed. But it is still an option we will have to consider, if all else fails. Please keep me informed." Flitwick nodded quickly, rising from his chair gratefully and making his escape. Albus sighed, watching the man go with tired eyes. He felt every year of his long life at that moment. He rubbed absently at his hands – winter was coming with a vengeance, as his joints were more than happy to point out to him.
He considered the mottled skin before him with a half smile. It didn't seem possible that the frail, papery skin under his fingertips was his own – he didn't see himself as an old man, and yet the evidence stared him in the face daily. His smile faltered as he thought of Harry, who was far too old for his age, and burdened with far too much to be healthy. Albus heaved himself out of his chair and paced to the window, looking out over Hogwarts' grounds, losing himself in memories.
War was always a horrible thing. He had seen too many wars in his lifetime, both muggle and wizarding. They were horrid, messy things, things that ended far too many lives of his friends and family, his trusted colleagues and the bright eyes of the youth. He took out a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth, letting the familiar action sooth him. There had to be something they could do to stop Voldemort from setting the Hounds onto Harry – otherwise, he was going to be put into a very tight position. Ah Harry, my boy. What are we to do with you?
He felt a sharp pain pierce his chest and he grunted softly, it hurt, oh but it hurt to not be able to do anything for the boy. He moved back to his desk and stared down at the paperwork covering it, not really seeing the words in front of him. There were hard choices to be made, that was for sure. Ones he didn't particularly want to make, but knew no one but he could do so.
He closed his eyes briefly and breathed out a prayer. A prayer for guidance, for hope, that he wouldn't have to choose between the safety of many and the life of one small boy. Please…
*_*_*_*_*_*
Harry grinned madly as he scrubbed desks in the Transfigurations classroom, his hair falling forward over his face, partially obscuring the gleam of merriment in his eyes. Professor McGonagall looked up at him and Draco from time to time, her face blank but her eyes also bright. He grunted as he scrubbed at a particularly difficult ink smudge, but felt absolutely no remorse for what he'd done. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, even if it meant three days of detention yet again.
Ron had been prick as usual to Harry, Draco and Neville throughout the day. He had been targeting Neville in particular, spitting insults at the sandy haired boy left and right. Neville had just ignored the redhead, something which ended up pissing Ron off all the more. Finally, during Transfiguration, Harry had had enough.
Nudging Draco, Harry got him to pass along a packet of power to Pansy, who was sitting behind the redhead in the row over. Pansy had looked over at them quizzically, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at the nondescript white power in her hands. Harry had mimed for her to sprinkle the powder all over Ron's robe, and she did so quickly, her eyes darting to watch McGonagall carefully as she did so. Harry had been a ball of energy for the rest of class, just waiting for the bell to ring.
When it did, Ron and Hermione were the first up out of their seats. As they passed the dark haired boy, Ron had sneered and spat another insult at him, as usual. Harry's eyes had narrowed, and as the redhead turned away, he had whipped out his wand and whispered a spell, aiming it for the powder on Ron's robe.
The spell hit the powder, causing a bright explosion of sparkles. There had been a deep moment of silence after everyone's eyes had cleared, and then the laughter began.
Ron's appearance had – changed, drastically. Where his robe had been was instead an orange suit covered in sequins and bangles. Ron had a horrified expression on his face as he stared down at his new suit. Then, the suit began to move. And sing. It got through one entire song by Celestina Warbeck before Professor McGonagall had conquered her mirth and was able to stop the animation from continuing. Ron had been livid, his face flushed an ugly purple. Even Hermione had had to laugh, seeing her boyfriend dancing around as his suit warbled out one hopeless cliché after another. It had been priceless.
Professor McGonagall had sentenced Harry and Draco to three days of detention for the prank. Neither of them could find it in themselves to feel guilty for it – it had been worth every blister.
Two days later.
Harry looked up into the pitch, clutching his broom in one hand tightly. He breathed deeply, his eyes roaming over the large patch of blue over his head. He let the open air calm him, focus his mind and clear out all the shakiness from his arms and legs. He would be fine once he was in the air – flying was not a problem for him, although walking on the ground still gave him problems sometimes.
So much had happened that week it was hard for Harry to clear his mind in order to focus on the game ahead. He let his gaze wander out over the pitch, skipping lightly over the Gryffindor stands and focusing on the Slytherin section. His eyes landed on his godfather, who looked vaguely uncomfortable sitting in the green and silver stands. His determined and stubborn expression, however, showed that he meant to stay and support Harry's new House team – even if Severus (who was sitting some rows behind him) looked as though he wanted to strangle the animagus where he sat. Harry smiled brightly, joy at his godfather's freedom still surging through him.
Fudge had minced and stalled the public for as long as he could, but in the end, had to admit that the body that was found was indeed Peter Pettigrew. The news had hit the streets in a heartbeat, and the late, special edition of the Daily Prophet had proclaimed Sirius's innocence in large, five-inch letters, the headline nearly covering the front page by itself.
Sirius himself had been one of the last people to learn about his own innocence. The animagus had been confined to the small suite of rooms he and Remus shared, nervously pacing and worrying. Harry had gone to see him everyday, reassuring the man and guiding his train of thought away from the public uproar. They had come up with a great many potions and pranks the last few days, that being the one thing that Sirius turned to in times of stress. The prank Harry had played on Ron, for example, had been a specimen from Sirius's stressed psyche.
When the news had finally come, however, Sirius had not reacted exactly as Harry had thought he would. The animagus took it silently, and instead of jumping around madly, shouting at the top of his lungs, the dark haired man had bowed his head and shook, wrapping his arms around his midsection tightly and closing his eyes.
Harry had edged over to his godfather, unsure of what to do. He touched Sirius's arm gently, and the man looked up at him, his eyes bright. Before Harry could blink, Sirius had Harry wrapped up in his arms and his face buried in the boys hair. "Oh, Harry. I'm free! I'm free! And now I can take you home with me, where you belong." Harry had stiffened considerably at Sirius's declaration – he'd forgotten about that. "Harry?" Worry tinged the other man's voice. Harry clutched at the other man tightly.
"I'd forgotten that part," Harry had admitted softly, burying his face into Sirius's robes. The older man squeezed the boy tightly and began to sway lightly from side to side.
"I hadn't." Remus smiled at the sight of them, his own eyes suspiciously bright. Sirius caught the werewolf's eye and smiled painfully at him, sniffing once, trying not to cry.
"Don't you dare get snot in my hair." Sirius's sudden barked laughter caused them all to jump, and then to laugh gently. Sirius pulled away from his godson and looked him in the eye, making an exaggerated snuffling.
"Ah, but Harry! I've always wanted to wipe my snot in your hair! It's been a lifelong dream of mine!" The young man stared at his godfather warily, edging away playfully. Sirius had charged at the boy and swept him up into his arms, landing on the large, overstuffed couch where Moony sat, trapping the giggling boy between them.
The rest of the night had been spent with Sirius telling Harry about the various villas and mansions that the Black family owned. Harry's eyes had gone wide at the list of them – and Sirius's flippant remark about how much money lay in the family vaults.
As Harry had listened to his godfather and Remus ramble on about the properties and memories of what they had done to said properties, a gleam entered Harry's eye. He pursed his lips briefly, casting a calculating glance at his godfather. He'd be perfect, Harry decided after a bit of thought. Now all I have to do is get him to offer it… If Remus or Sirius noticed Harry's slight preoccupation, neither remarked on it.
The day after Sirius's freedom had been announced, the animagus 'officially' arrived at the school. He'd strode through the doors of the Great Hall, his new robes settling around him dramatically. Ron and his brothers had stood, huge smiles on their faces as they waved at the ex-convict, but Sirius had only glared at them. With a smart turn ninety degree turn, he marched his way over to the Slytherin side of the room and swept his godson up in a hug. The Weasley's had stared in shock and anger at the older man's actions, with Ron sputtering the most. The Slytherin's around Harry and Sirius had to hide their grins – the constant look of absolute rage on Ron's face was getting quite amusing. Severus, however, merely looked acutely uncomfortable as the older wizard settled himself in with the students at the table. Bill snickered softly from where he was seated at Severus's side, and the Potions Master had glared at him briefly before turning back to his pumpkin juice.
Now the first Slytherin and Gryffindor match had arrived, and it seemed all Harry could do was sweat and tremble slightly. He scowled at his hands, anger at himself flashing through his mind before he managed to push it away. There's nothing you can do about it right now, so concentrate on the game. One thing at a time, Harry, one thing at a time. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, rolling his head from side to side, feeling the vertebras crack as he did so.
A light touch on his shoulder made him jump, and he whipped his head around to see Draco standing behind him, also looking out over the crowd.
"Lots of people here today."
"There's always lots of people." Harry followed the other boy's glance and scowled briefly. Draco's slightly worried gaze had been resting on the large gathering of redheads in the Gryffindor stands – Ron being among them. "If I remember correctly, he's not supposed to be out there in the stands before game time. Oliver would have had his head." Draco snorted softly at Harry.
"Ah, but he's a Weasley, and they are, of course, the gift that God gave the wizarding world." Draco sneered delicately in their direction as Harry laughed quietly. The irony wasn't lost on him.
"If they're the gift God gave the wizarding world, then bloody hell, what did we do to piss Him off so much?" Draco laughed loudly, as did a few others who had caught Harry's comment.
"Good question." Draco sighed and the laughter died slowly from his face. "Are you ready for this?" Harry looked away from the blond, a determined look coming over his face.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
Harry sighed sharply and looked at Draco. "Yes I'm bloody sure I'm ready for the bloody game!" A small smile grew on the blonde's face and Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh you prat." He cuffed the taller boy on his shoulder and shook his head. Draco laughed quietly at him, and then settled down to wait with him until game time.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Harry gripped the handle of his broom tightly, his eyes restlessly scanning the air. Ron hovered near him, but was wasting his time on glaring at Harry rather than looking for the snitch. Harry shifted on the handle slightly, tightening his thigh muscles and locking his ankles securely. He needed to stretch.
The game had been going on for little over an hour, and so far it was a rout in Slytherin's favor. Harry smiled briefly, baring his teeth to the chill air, his eyes dark and sharp. It was also turning out to be a spectacularly bloody and dirty game as well.
Draco had led the team off to an auspicious start by springing onto the quaffle immediately, roughly shouldering George out of his way. The redhead's grunt could be heard clearly, and cries of foul were already springing from the Gryffindor's lips as the Slytherin team started marching toward the goal.
The Gryffindor chasers and beaters had tried to stop the Slytherin advance – the chasers had bravely dive bombed the Slytherin line, but with their inferior brooms and slow reactions, Draco had had his teammates and himself out of the reach of the Gryffindors in a flash. This just served to piss the other team off even more, which made Draco happy, if the bright, vicious smile he was wearing indicated anything.
By thirty minutes in, the score had been one hundred to zero, Slytherins. The Gryffindor stands were oddly silent as they watched their team get pounded in the dust, while the Slytherin side had never been so loud or cheerful.
Harry sighed and shook out his arms carefully, flexing his freezing fingers, hoping to get them warm again. He glanced at Ron out of the corner of his eye and then looked away quickly – Ron was still glaring at him.
A flash of gold made Harry tense immediately. It hovered in the corner of his vision, sparkling in the light. He made no immediate move for it, but instead casually leaned forward and made to make another lap around the pitch, with Ron as his shadow. Ron sneered at his back, and then looked down to adjust himself on his broom – which was what Harry had been waiting for. With the redhead's attention elsewhere, Harry tore off after the snitch, grinning madly as Ron's curses could be heard faintly over the sudden roar of the crowd.
The snitch bobbed through the air, its small wings creating a high-pitched tone that Harry could recognize in his sleep. He laid himself flat on his broom, streamlining his body, cutting down on the air drag. He narrowed his eyes, grateful for once for his glasses. He paid no attention to the crowds near him, or the knowledge that Ron was somewhere behind him, hoping to catch up. Harry's sole attention was for the speck of gold in front of him.
Abruptly the snitch plunged straight down at nearly a ninety degree turn. Harry felt his body clench and his eyes widen slightly, before he too turned into a straight dive down after the small golden ball. The roar for the stands was deafening.
Harry had to roll to pull out of the dive in time, still in chase of the snitch. The small device was now skimming along the ground, parting the grass as is zoomed by. Slowly Harry started to edge closer to it, and with one hand he reached out carefully, his fingers extending, feeling the brush of frantically moving wings on his fingertips.
Ron's violent shove to the end of his broom caused Harry to spin violently, barely catching himself in time from falling off. He locked his arms and legs around the wood of his broom, trying to straighten it out. He was furious, as was the Slytherin stands. Distantly Harry could hear Madam Hooch deduct penalty points from the other team, putting them into the negatives, but it was little satisfaction. He'd almost had the bloody thing. With a snarl Harry took off after Ron's receding form, fury in his eyes. You bloody wanker, I'll get you back, see that I wont.
Ron was slowing down, clearly lost as Harry descended upon him. The idiot couldn't spot the snitch where it was hovering near the base of the stands, blending into the gold of the Gryffindor colors. Harry snorted derisively, his disgust plain.
He zoomed by the other boy, deliberately scaring him and invading his personal space. Harry's lips drew into a bloody thirsty grin when he heard Ron's squawk – and then his attention was on the snitch.
Triumphantly Harry closed his hand over the small golden ball, feeling the whir of the wings brush his fingers. He executed a neat turn to avoid the wooded struts, deftly angling his broom away from the Gryffindor stands and back to the Slytherin side. Boos rained down on him, but his attention was on the horde of green and silver in front of him. His new Housemates. They smiled and cheered him on, laughing and waving their flags, ecstatic they had won, even if it had been a given.
A change in the roar of the crowd alerted Harry that something was wrong. As he raised his fist to Madam Hooch to signal that he'd caught it, a sharp cry made him look up quickly, staring at Draco oddly. The blond was fine, but was looking behind him…to someone behind him…
Cursing, Harry locked his legs around his broom and yanked it to one side, throwing his body weight under it and letting Ron brush past him without getting knocked out. If he had hesitated at all Ron would have been able to steamroll him easily, causing god knew what damage to his already weakened frame. Harry saw red.
As Madam Hooch's whistle blew and the match ended Harry landed next to Ron on the grass, his face twisted up into an ugly mask.
"You bastard, you could have killed me with that little stunt!" Harry snarled as Madam Hooch landed next to them. She didn't have time to intervene before Harry launched himself at the taller boy, getting in a solid punch to his nose before there were people pulling them apart. Harry was furious, struggling against Draco's grip frantically. Ron was the same – except that it took three of the Gryffindor team to hold him back. Harry dismissed the fact, he knew Ron outweighed him, and had a longer reach on him. But he's a big lumbering ox that couldn't move quickly to save his soul, he bared his teeth at the other teen, his fingers curling into claws.
"ENOUGH!" Madam Hooch's roar caused everyone to quiet down immediately. She turned disapproving eyes onto the two boys. "Now, Harry you should know better than to pick a fight on the field. I'm afraid I'm going to have to penalize you – you are not to play in the next Slytherin match."
"What?!"
"And you Ron," she turned to the smirking boy, who looked at her with innocent confusion. "Don't try that face on me, young man. I saw your little stunt as well – you too are penalized one game. I don't want to see anymore of this type of poor sportsmanship, gentlemen. Now, Slytherin is the winner of the match, go on and celebrate." As the Gryffindor team erupted into shouts, Draco had to drag the shaking Harry away from the pitch. The dark haired boy was livid.
In the locker room Harry stormed off to his corner, his mood and expression clearing a path in front of him. He stripped quickly, with sharp, jerky movements, keeping his eyes locked on the metal and wood in front of him.
"Harry –,"
"Don't, Draco. Just don't. It was a stupid thing to do, but dammit!" He slammed the locker door closed and turned to the blond, his eyes blazing with anger. "That – that – that little, snot nosed bastard could have killed me doing that! Madam Hooch knows the dangers of steamrolling someone from behind – hell, that was how Alexander Deeler from the Canons got paralyzed for fucks sake. And she – she – she – oh blast it all to hell!" The dark hair boy snarled, throwing his hands up into the air and stormed off to the showers. He was over talking about it…he needed to cool off and let himself work through the anger alone before he snapped at anyone else.
Draco watched the boy go, not angry at all with him. He was glad to see Harry so angry, so alive – and so bloody angry he could have set the locker room on fire, Draco smiled, humor causing his eyes to shine. He turned to his own locker and began stripping slowly, taking his time and letting Harry shower in peace. The rest of the team followed his lead, all of them exchanging glances and small smiles with each other.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Seamus was irritated. He sighed and looked across the Common Room where the House's quidditch team was huddled, their unhappy, sour moods spoiling the pleasant evening for everyone. Ron sat in the center of the huddle, raving on about 'Bloody Potter'…Seamus rolled his eyes and looked away. He'd heard the story too many times, by now it was just old and rather silly to him.
By chance his gaze landed on Hermione, who was surprisingly not with the huddled team or the groupies. She was instead sitting in a nook near the fireplace with a book on her lap, but with her attention clearly elsewhere. She looks…disturbed, Seamus tilted his head to one side and studied her carefully. The girl absently picked at the corner of her book, her eyes flicking to Ron and the other huddled Gryffindors – and then frowned. Seamus followed her gaze and found his own eyebrows arching.
Lavender had somehow managed to worm her way into the Gryffindor huddle, setting herself down right next to Ron. She was listening to Ron intently, her wide eyes never leaving his face and was nodding enthusiastically to every point the redhead made. And her attention wasn't lost on the other boy…his eyes kept darting to the seated girl and his face would flush slightly, before he continued with whatever complaint he was voicing. And he never, once, looked over to where his girlfriend was sitting.
Seamus swung his attention back to Hermione. The bushy haired girl made no move to get up and toss Lavender away from her boyfriend…but if looks could kill, the Lavender would have been dead in a heartbeat. And when the school gossip leaned forward and placed a soothing hand on Ron's arm, Seamus could have sworn he heard Hermione growl. He sighed and shook his head, looking away from all of it. As interesting as this new drama was, it still wasn't helping him answer his questions.
He knew there was something going on with Lavender, he just didn't know what. He really wanted to believe that the girl's only plans were on breaking up Ron and Hermione, but he had a nagging suspicion that he should be looking for more, but he just didn't know what. With a small shake of his head he decided he needed to get out of the dorms for a bit, to clear his thoughts and stretch his legs.
He headed out of the dorm, picking a direction at random and letting his legs and his subconscious carry him wherever it would. The hallways were mostly empty, and the sound of his footsteps echoing made him shiver slightly. He wrapped his heavy robe around himself and tucked his hands away into his pockets, absently wishing that he'd thought to bring his mittens along.
When he found his feet taking him near the dungeons, he purposely turned away, picking a route towards the Library instead. He wanted…he wasn't sure what he wanted. He wished Harry had never left Gryffindor, he wished that he'd been more of a friend to the smaller boy and had stuck up for him when the rest of the House hadn't, like Ginny, like Neville. But I'm no Slytherin…I'm a Gryffindor, through and through. I don't want to leave my House. He shrugged uncomfortably, hating the fact that he had no idea what he was supposed to have done, nor what more he could do.
He stopped briefly near one of the large windows overlooking the pitch, the goals barely distinguishable in the dark. What Ron had done was wrong, totally and completely wrong, Seamus knew that. The redhead's actions had gone against everything the Gryffindor code supposedly upheld. And everyone had seemed to forget that. Has the House gone mad? Or have we just let ourselves be led? He sighed, noting the small cloud of steam created by his breath. It was getting cold in the halls now…he briefly pondered on going back to the dorms, but instead pushed on to the Library where he knew there would be warmth and at least a few people there at that time of night.
He slipped into the large room quietly, his entrance making only a few look up quickly. He slunk off to one side, hiding himself away in the stacks. I wish I knew what to do. I mean, if Lavender is planning something, then she's apt to tell someone about her plan. I mean, the girl can't keep her mouth shut to save her soul…
"…Dark Lord. He'll be pleased to hear that the plan is coming along." The whisper froze Seamus in his tracks. The voice paused and Seamus could feel his heart start to pound; carefully he eased away from the people in the next rack, trying his best to stay as quiet as possible.
"I think there's someone listening." Seamus cursed silently and turned to make a dash away from the unknown pair. He was about to go when a dark, huddled figure caught his eye and made him pause. The other person was also spying on the pair in the next rack, their dark robe covering their head and body, making them look like a large pool of shadow in the dimly lit area. Seamus squinted at the dark form, trying to see the other person better, and then mentally smacked himself on the forehead. He needed to go, not sit and stare. He froze when the voice began to speak again.
"Let's go. There's better places to…do this." The huddled figure turned slightly towards Seamus and glared at him at the unknown people's words. Seamus crouched down swiftly when he heard two sets of feet shuffle by – he peaked through the rows of books but caught nothing but shadowed robes, the House colors unidentifiable because of the poor light. When the pair had passed Seamus breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the other person…only to find them gone.
Seamus rose from his crouch carefully, wiping traces of dust from his robes slowly. Then he started to make his way deeper into the Library, the only way the other person could have gone.
He was about to give up on his search for them, when a glimmer of lamplight caught his eye. He turned his head carefully and noticed a lone figure writing furiously on a scroll, with books and parchments piled up around her precariously. He made his way over.
"Hi." The girl glanced up at him and frowned, her eyes racking over his form and her frown deepening when she caught sight of his House. With a delayed start, Seamus noticed she was from Slytherin.
"What to you want, Gryffindork?"
Seamus winced, gritted his teeth and took a hold of his temper. "Uh, nothing. I just wanted to say hi. I'm Seamus." The girl sneered at him.
"Whatever. Go away. I have things to do."
"Like spying on people in the Library?" Seamus chanced it. And was rewarded by the merest check in the girl's demeanor.
"Excuse me?" She threw her pen down in disgust and looked at Seamus with fury in her eyes. "Just because I'm a Slytherin, and alone, all of a sudden I'm some evil, nasty spy that goes around preying on people's secrets in the Library? All of you Gryffindors are the same. Ignorant, hypocritical, backstabbing, blind –,"
"I just wanted to know what they were saying before I got there." The girl shut her mouth abruptly. Seamus moved around the table and took a seat across from her. "See, there's something wrong going on in this school, and well, I'm wondering what it is. And, well, since I noticed how well hid you were, and how angry you were at me interrupting, I thought maybe you would know." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, chancing to look at the girl.
Instead of sneering at him, which was what he thought she'd do, the girl instead cocked her head to one side and regarded him calmly, all traces of her anger and irritation gone.
"You Gryffindors are blunt, I'll give you that. And foolhardy – what if I had been the one passing secrets and plans in the dark?"
"But you weren't. And you're not going to. You're trying to find out what's going on, just like me." Seamus challenged her with his eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, and finally, the girl began to smile.
"Sasha."
"Excuse me?"
"My name's Sasha." She smirked at him and leaned forward, her homework forgotten. "So, Seamus, care to tell me what you've…noticed?"
"And will you tell me what you've noticed as well?" Seamus's question made her sit back abruptly, her grin fading.
"Why?"
"I want to help."
"You?"
"Yes me, what's wrong with that?" Seamus crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
"You're a Gryffindor. Your kind hasn't a clue when it come to, oh, discretion, good secret keeping, subtly…"
"Oh, sod off. I snuck up on that pair quiet enough now didn't I?"
"That was an accident! I saw you coming and you were off in la la land, day dreaming about God knows what!" Sasha sputtered, her composure gone in the face of Seamus's declaration. He had to smile at the expression of pure horror that had crossed Sasha's face when he claimed to have snuck up on the pair intentionally. She noticed his smile and scowled at him. "Oh ha ha, very funny. Why should I tell you anything? For all I know you're going to run back to those Weasels of yours and blab your mouth to them."
"I will not!" Seamus flushed hotly. Sasha looked at him, her eyes narrowing with spite.
"Yes you will. Your kind can never keep their mouths shut. You just go and blab everyone's secrets for all to hear. And you'd take special care to let your precious Ron know about that there really is Slytherin spies in his precious bloody school. Next thing you know you'll be heading protest lines to get us kicked out, or killed." Sasha's face twisted up in an ugly expression, her eyes shooting daggers at him.
"I will not." Seamus growled at her. "And what the hell do you mean 'my kind'? Half bloods? Because if you do…"
"No you fool. Hypocrites. That's what your kind is. Gryffindors. Did you know my mother's cousin was a Gryffindor? My mother was a Slytherin, and proud of it. But she loved her cousin, and ignored the House rivalry for her sake. You know who it was that turned the location of our family, our house, and the passwords to get through the wards was? My mother's precious Gryffindor cousin." Sasha's eyes were bright. "You want to know who the majority was of the people to hand over loved ones and family members to Death Eaters after our faction broke away from the – the – You-Know-Who? That's right, Gryffindors. Those precious, bloody Gryffindor family members who thought it better that we Slytherins should die because of our House and its reputation than for it to taint their precious honor by having us fight on the 'good side'. Now tell me why I should tell you anything."
"Because I give you my word of honor, here and now. I will never blab anything you tell me unless you give your permission that it's ok to talk about it with others. I will not betray you, nor will I tell anyone where to find you, should they want to kill or hurt you. All I have is my word and my honor to swear on. Trusting me is up to you." Seamus caught her eyes and held the gaze, trying to convey everything that he'd said into it. Sasha took a breath to snap back an answer, but paused, and let the air out slowly. She sat back and rested her hands on the tabletop, her thumb absently beating out a rhythm.
"That was a silly thing to do. Again, what if I was the spy?" Seamus shrugged.
"You're not. Well, you're not the evil spy, I guess I should say."
"I am too evil, dammit!" She smiled hesitantly at him. Seamus felt the tension in his shoulders ease, and he too leaned back in his chair.
"No, you're not." He smiled back at her, feeling the edges of his eyes crinkle and the skin near his mouth fold into dimples. Sasha rolled her eyes at him elaborately and sighed dramatically.
"Am too!"
"Are not!"
"Am too!"
"Are not!" The both broke into giggles at the same time, their shared laughter wiping away the last traces of tension. They sobered and stared at each other for a minute.
"Was your family really betrayed by a Gryffindor?"
"Yes. Do you really give your word to help me find out what's going on in the school, and to try and help stop whatever they're planning from actually happening?"
"I swear."
"Alright then."
"Alright."
They stared at each other for another long moment.
"So, what are they planning at the moment? What's going on?" Seamus watched as Sasha sighed and thumped her forehead on the table top, muttering quietly to herself as she did so.
"We're bloody screwed," he thought her heard her mutter before straightening up, taking a deep breath and launching into a report of the Slytherin House's gathered information. Seamus felt his face pale as Sasha's expression became grim…she's right, he swallowed painfully, his eyes darting to the darker corners of the room. If what their information points to is right, we're all bloody screwed.
End Chapter 24
Review Responses:
RaNdOm Hp FaN, azntgr01, Jade Maxwell, tati1, Eriadne, doompaw, Redrum, closetfanficaddict, Kira6, NayNymic, Illucia, Peta, kate, Kristine Thorne, The Shadow Bandit, Arianrhod, Lukaret, momma-dar, Princess Serenity2, Tempest8, o.o, fyre, GLow1, Tenshi-Chikyuu, Dodo, faded, Dillon, MoonFire, Belle, Heather, Moonfairy2000, Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos, Relle, SparkySparkles, LittleMiss2, aspid, Sabrina451, Rose, Vide186, Serpent of Light, Kawaii Shimegami, lilcutey-dragon, katy2, death-resurrected, Butterfly38, kdalemama, Thornangel, AnimeGurl07, Elle, charmed1, Indigo Star, Azinus, OzCrow, Asha Dreamweaver, Hikari Kura, faer, Mistress Talon, LoonyLoopyLisa, me, Kerrigan, Luna Malfoy, Tainted Androgyny, Dea Liberty, Kateri1, surprise, Mr. Happy Java Man, harrypotterfanlover, crystal-chan, LunaMalfoy, Snake-Boi: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS!!!!!!
Ms. Talon: 1) Good guess, maybe, maybe not =). 2) No. 3) Still undecided, actually. They go somewhere my brain just hasn't decided on where just yet. 4) I'm feeling out Hermione, and am in the dark about Ron. It wont happen anytime soon, that's for sure, though. 5) Wait and see! 6) Yes and no. 7) Still haven't fully decided. 8) For about 2 seconds is the current plan – though that might change as I near the end of the story. Thanks for the awesome review! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic!
Keebler-elmo: eh, can't be angsty all the time =) I'm not going to include most of OotP into the information of in this fic…mostly cuz I'm still mad at Rowling for what she did to Sirius. I'll keep your comments in mind, though. Thanks.
Athenakitty: Charlie's position is subject to change at any moment. Fudge will be served with barbeque sauce, yes. Harry will have to take the potion at least once more, perhaps more. Haven't decided about the Gryffindors yet. Thanks for another lovely review!!!!
Zenyel: Not sure just yet to what extent the little girl's involvement will be in the story. Thank you for the wonderful review!
Lynntownsend: Charlie would be the oldest of the Weasley boys now that Bill disowned himself. He's taking the middle road, atm, and hoping for the best. His stance with his family is still in flux, though. Thanks for reviewing!!
lstepus: No, Neville wont be adopting them, sorry. You'll have to wait and see =) I'm glad you're enjoying the fic, and thank you for the awesome review!
TanisaFyre: Soon! Thank you for the wonderful review!
SlytherinHeadGirl: It might take a little while, but Hagrid will learn the truth eventually. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! Thank you for reviewing!
Mukhazra Dila: The little girl was a member of the family that was hiding the Book that Voldemort needed. The old bat stormed their place, took the book and used the little girl's heart in a ritual. As for what else she's going to do in the story, you'll just have to wait and see =) I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! Thank you for reviewing!
Darkangelfrmhell: Because my brain is odd? I'm not really sure…I think it was George's and perhaps they thought the smell would be a powerful determent =) Thanks for the lovely review.