The first snowfall of the year descended like ash from the bleak Scottish sky. There was little joy to be found today, neither outside nor in the castle.
The school sat on a knife-edge. Students were afraid to walk the halls alone for fear of being the victim of the next attack, and no amount of reassurance from the professors could ease their worries.
The image of Pansy lying cold and unresponsive, a living corpse on snow white sheets, would not leave Harry's mind.
Despite how unpleasant she was to be around, he felt pity for the girl. Nobody deserved her fate.
Her mind was a tattered mess, torn apart from the inside in an attack so brutal no one could believe what they had seen. Harry was certain he would never forget the anguish that consumed Dumbledore's face when the experts from St. Mungo's explained she was beyond any hope. Even Snape had been shaken, his black eyes staring unblinkingly at the girl, filled with something resembling fear.
It was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that Harry's presence in the Hospital Wing on the night of the attack was looked over.
Pansy's parents visited the school that same night, and since then rumours had spread like wildfire. Each theory of the attack grew more outlandish than the next, as reason was lost amongst a fever of panic and paranoia.
The only truth to be found was Pansy Parkinson had tragically been in the wrong place at the wrong time on Halloween night.
A vigil had been held for her this past weekend by a group of Slytherin students. Harry had attended, hidden off in a dark corner beneath his invisibility cloak hoping to overhear anything that might reveal more information, but discovered nothing. It had been that way for days now, and frustration was starting to boil within him at his lack of success.
"Potter!"
Harry turned at the sound of his name. He'd been coming up from the lower floors of the castle having spent his lunch hour doing some reading assigned by Dumbledore. Approaching him from down the hall was the dark, lean figure of Blaise Zabini.
"Blaise," he greeted, waiting for the boy to catch up.
"You know it's not safe to wander the castle on your own anymore—especially for you." Blaise smirked as he matched his stride to Harry's.
"I'm more than capable of watching out for myself," Harry replied.
Blaise simply hummed in response. "I've missed you at Slughorn's last few parties. Not as much as old Horace, of course, but enough to make the evenings less interesting," he said after a moment.
"Snape likes handing out detentions the day the invitations are passed out, it's really a curious coincidence." Blaise laughed at Harry's dry tone. "You'll need to take it up with him for stopping me from entertaining you those lonely nights."
"I said less interesting, not entertaining. There are plenty of pretty skirts to keep me occupied… like Weasley's little sister for one, a right firecracker that one."
"I wouldn't try if I were you," Harry warned.
Blaise only shrugged in response. "Watching Marcus Belby blubber around and seeing McLaggen make a fool out of himself trying to get in Granger's knickers was amusing at first, but it's starting to grow stale. We need more of the Chosen One in our life to spice it up. You'll be at the Yule Party, won't you?" he asked as they turned into a row of empty classrooms.
"I have no reason not to go," said Harry. The thought of Slughorn and his parties had been far from his mind as of late. He wouldn't mind attending, though of course it was conditional on Dumbledore not planning a lesson for that evening.
The two of them had met last night for the first time since the attack on Pansy. Little was mentioned of the incident itself, but Harry could tell something was deeply troubling Dumbledore. Instead, their focus was centered around a particularly unsettling memory from a wizard named Ogden and his encounter with Voldemort's ancestors.
Harry learnt of the Gaunts and the madness which had taken root in the family for generations since their fall from grace. He could see Voldemort's arrogance and thirst for greatness in the way his family clung to their Slytherin heritage. Dumbledore specifically brought attention to the heirlooms of which they cared more for than their own comfort and lives: Salazar Slytherin's locket, and an old ring with the same strange triangle he'd seen on the grave in Godric's Hollow.
Harry could not shake the feeling that Dumbledore was leading somewhere with their discussions, but still he hadn't managed to put it all together.
"Potter?" Blaise's voice roused Harry from his thoughts.
"Yes?" he replied slowly, looking over to see the Slytherin boy staring at him intently.
"I said, I heard Weasley has been on rocky waters with Thomas as of late. Seeing as how I'm her type, I was wanting to know if the rumours were true? Maybe I can swoop in and snatch her up for the party." Blaise's white teeth peeked through in a charming smile.
"Sorry, I have no idea," said Harry.
Blaise threw up his hands and let out a deep, drawn out sigh. "What's the point of having a lion for a friend if he can't even spy for you… do you have a date in mind, at least?"
"None at all," Harry laughed as they approached the end of the hall. He wasn't being entirely truthful in his answer, he had an idea of who he would like to take, but nothing realistic.
"Maybe I could help with that," a voice said suddenly from his side, catching him off guard. A pair of hands shot out from an empty classroom to his right and pulled him off balance and inside.
Whoever was attempting to restrain him wasn't very strong as he freed himself fairly easily from their grip, before quickly catching his feet on the worn stone floor. With a twist of his wrist, Harry managed to free his holly wand from his holster and jam it under the chin of the figure in front of him.
"Hold up, hold up…" the scared and breathy voice of a girl puffed across his face. Harry felt the arms around him pull away quickly.
Harry kept his wand in position but loosened his grip. "What the hell was that," he said through clenched teeth, his heart racing wildly. He turned to see Blaise sauntering into the room as casual as always.
"She wanted to speak to you," Blaise responded without missing a beat. "I engineered this little meet up after I saw you go to the kitchens earlier."
"You couldn't have just asked me nicely?" Harry said disbelievingly.
"What if you said no?" Blaise countered.
"I wouldn't have," Harry shot back, wanting nothing more than to smack the smug Slytherin over the back of the head.
"How was I supposed to know that," said Blaise as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the arch of the doorway.
"Easy Potter… could you… y'know—move that thing…"
The warm brown of eyes of who Harry now recognized to be Tracey Davis darted down in the direction of his wand. Slowly, Harry removed it from her throat.
Feeling a dull pounding begin to form behind his eyes, Harry glanced between the two of them and said, "Was this all really necessary?"
"I'm not sure if you've been confounded these last few weeks, but the school is on the verge of blowing up like one of Longbottom's potions," Tracey said, her hand reaching up to rub a wand-tip sized welt forming beneath her chin. "The worst thing for us would be seen going up and talking to you."
"For both our own safety and yours," Blaise added. "Merlin knows how many times we've be warned about drawing extra attention on you by—"
Tracey cut Blaise off with a sharp elbow to the ribs and turned to smile at Harry not-so-innocently.
"What did you want from me?" Harry asked wanting to get to the bottom of this meeting.
"We want to know what happened to Pansy," Tracey said, her voice losing much of its earlier playfulness.
"Doesn't everyone?" Harry said. "What makes you think I know any more than anyone else?"
"When bad things happen in the castle there's no person more likely to be involved than you," Tracey pointed out. "Slytherin is getting restless and we want answers."
"What answers do you expect me to give. You don't think I did it?" Harry asked. For a moment, he wondered if he had lowered his wand too soon.
Blaise scoffed callously and brushed a bit of dirt from his sleeve. "We wouldn't be here standing and talking if you did. Malfoy would have killed you himself if he wasn't so busy acting all heartbroken. Who knew he actually cared so much about her."
Tracey frowned at her friend, before turning back to Harry. "Listen, we know Slytherin has some… outspoken individuals, but this went too far."
Something clicked in Harry's mind and a nauseous feeling took hold of his stomach. Bile rose in his throat, and he forced himself to swallow it back down. "You think one of my friends did this," he said, almost not wanting to voice the thought.
"Who else would have? The Dark Lord comes back, Abbott's parents are attacked forcing her to leave the school, and then Pansy—who's been a right bitch to anyone outside of Slytherin for years—turns up brain dead." Blaise ticked his fingers as he spoke.
"You have to admit the timing is a bit suspect," said Tracey, fiddling with her sleeve. Harry hadn't it noticed until now, but the girl was looking unusually pale. "Maybe you have a bad egg in that batch of friends who meet up in your defense club, or maybe someone thought it was time they stick it to a Slytherin, and it got out of hand… you can't deny the motive was there."
No. No, it can't be—they wouldn't… they couldn't, he told himself through the creeping doubt.
"Have you asked Daphne?" Harry tried a different approach. "She knows everything that goes on in Hogwarts, has she not told you anything."
"You don't think we tried?" Blaise laughed in exasperation, running his hand over his short dark hair. "Daphne doesn't say anything she doesn't want to, even to her friends."
Harry looked to Tracey, but she shook her head in apology.
"You should try," Tracey said quietly after a pause.
"Me?" Harry pointed to himself disbelievingly. "You think I have any chance of getting anything out of her?"
Tracey and Blaise exchanged a curious look, which made Harry feel oddly nervous all of sudden.
"I think you have a better chance than anyone," said Tracey.
Harry sighed and mussed his hair. "Fine," he said, finally agreeing, "just try to keep Slytherin from killing any Gryffindors, until I figure out what's happened."
It turned out that finding Daphne was a far more difficult challenge than he had anticipated it to be. It was almost as though she knew he wanted to speak to her and was avoiding him as some sort of game.
He'd come agonizingly close one morning in a double potions period where they reviewed common poisons and antidotes. Using the Prince's book, Harry managed to finish his assignment before anyone else and started to put away his tools and leftover ingredients so that he could head Daphne off after class. That was until Slughorn noticed the quality and speed at which he'd brewed his antidote and pulled him off to the side for praise, allowing Daphne to leave undisturbed with a smirk on her face and a teasing wink in his direction.
Between Daphne disappearing after classes, Dumbledore's lessons and an increasing number of Quidditch practices leading up to the start of the season, days had gone by without him speaking to her.
It was on a Hogsmeade weekend, while coming down to the village where his lucked finally turned. With Ron and Hermione in a Prefects meeting, and needing charms reapplied to his glasses after breaking them at the Orphanage, Harry was walking to a small enchanter's shop when he spied Daphne's silky black hair peeking out from underneath a Slytherin green hat matched with a scarf of the same color.
She was standing in front of a store with a finely painted wooden sign that read The Meadows Gallery: Proprietors and Commissioners of Fine Art since 1240 B.C.
Not wasting the opportunity, Harry slipped his arm through hers, eliciting a small squeak in surprise. Leading her two stores down, Harry stepped into a cramped and dingy store that doubled as a workshop and stank of old sawdust.
"Do you think you can reapply the normal charms to these, Mr. Warren? They ran into a bit of an accident." Harry asked the kindly old man who stood stooped over the counter.
He passed over his glasses with one hand, while keeping Daphne close by with the other.
"Ah, Quidditch…" Mr. Warren assumed incorrectly, though Harry did not correct him. "They will be ready in five minutes, Mr. Potter."
With his glasses off, Harry watched the blurred figure of the man whistle a light tune to himself as he wobbled to the back of his store, before turning to face Daphne for the first time.
"You should have gone to a genuine enchanter for that," Daphne said while wrinkling her nose. "Not whatever this is."
"I like Mr. Warren well enough, thanks," Harry responded. "He's quick and kind and charges me a fair price."
"I could have been on a date, you know," Daphne said, no longer paying any attention to the homely shop.
Harry laughed and said, "And who would that be with? I don't think I have ever seen you come here willingly with a boy."
Daphne looked Harry over closely and hummed to herself through pressed lips. "Fine. What is it you want so badly that you've been stalking me around school?"
"I want to know what happened to Pansy," Harry answered wanting to get straight to the point.
Daphne paled at the mention of the name, much like Tracey did.
"There's nothing about Pansy that needs to be said, ask anyone and they'll tell you what happened," Daphne said shortly.
"They'll tell me all about how she was possessed by a Litch and punished for not killing Dumbledore for control of the school. I want to know what really happened," said Harry seriously, before thinking for a moment and adding, "I'll tell you where I was the night you found me near Ravenclaw Tower."
Daphne stopped halfway to the door. There was a pleased smirk playing on her lips when she turned back around and stepped closer to him.
"Interesting…" she breathed, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "An exchange of information. At least you're not asking for it for free."
"You've done it before," Harry pointed out, remembering her warning about Malfoy.
"Maybe I was feeling generous," she quipped as she leaned against the counter, frowning at the dust that now covered her cloak.
"Are you?" Harry asked.
"Not particularly, but I can be tempted."
"I'll tell you then," said Harry. He was confident enough of forging an acceptable lie.
"No." said Daphne, much to Harry's surprise. She brushed the dust off her sleeve, folded her arms, and weighed him carefully with her eyes. "I'm not terribly interested in what you were doing wandering the halls anymore."
"What do you want me to do for you?" He was growing tired of all these Slytherins and their games.
"That's a very dangerous question to ask someone, Potter," there was almost a lethal smirk on her face as she spoke.
"I'm sure I will survive whatever evil you submit me to, Daphne," Harry replied with a shake of his head.
Just then, Mr. Warren returned from the back of his shop with Harry's glasses wrapped in a piece of cloth.
"Thank you," Harry smiled and passed over a pair of sickles.
Putting his glasses back on, everything around him became much clearer and sharper. He even noticed Daphne had put on a touch of makeup, which seemed to emphasize her already dazzling eyes.
"You are going to take me to Slughorn's Yule Party," Daphne said as they were about to exit the shop.
Harry nearly tripped on the doorway.
"Why? You're already going, there's no way Slughorn hasn't invited you," Harry pointed after catching his balance and fully processing what she'd just said.
"You know the amount of influence Slughorn wields and the circle he runs in. If I go there alone, I won't be given a second look by any of his guests, other than a handful of drunken oafs who have a taste for underage witches," she explained, though Harry had a feeling there was something she wasn't saying.
"Isn't your family fairly important or something?" Harry asked, vaguely remembering hearing about the Greengrass family and their wealth.
Daphne gave a tired sigh in response. "If they wanted to discuss something with my family they would go speak to my father, not his daughter who hasn't even graduated from Hogwarts. The most I would receive is a customary greeting."
"Why not take McLaggen or someone, he seems like his family is pretty well connected."
Daphne's nose twitched at the name in a way Harry found to be rather cute.
"McLaggen is a dolt. He might be one of the more attractive wizards in the school, but he's as dumb as a troll, and as likeable as those monstrous skrewts Professor Hagrid made us raise in fourth year."
Harry laughed, as Daphne had actually managed to describe McLaggen fairly accurately. He'd had to deal with the brute more often than he would have liked ever since Katie cut him from the Quidditch squad. Perhaps McLaggen thought Harry carried far more weight around the team than he actually did, because nearly every evening in the common room the boy would find a seat within earshot of Harry and loudly complain about the injustice done to him to his crowd of young admirers.
"So… me," Harry surmised.
Daphne nodded with a pleased smile on her lips and a bit of color filling her cheeks from the bite of the wind. "There will not be a single person at that party who won't try their best to sneak in a word with you; and when they do, I will be there to swoop in and save you."
"You're using me," Harry said deadpan.
"Helping you more like," she replied cheekily. Walking into the main stretch of town, where students were buzzing around in excitement, Daphne tugged on his arm and lead him into Honeydukes to pick up some sweets.
"What if I wanted to go with someone else?" Harry asked interestedly.
Twisting to peer at him over her shoulder, Daphne gave him a blank stare as if she found the question utterly foolish. Standing only a few inches away from the girl, Harry very quickly found himself thinking the same thing.
"Who then? Were you thinking of taking Jones?" Daphne asked strangely, but Harry couldn't see her face as she was busy paying for a bag of Liquorice Wands.
"No," he replied, quickly realizing it was an honest response. It hadn't been Megan his mind entertained when it wandered to thoughts of the upcoming party.
"Good luck with that," Daphne said flippantly.
"Alright, we'll go together," Harry confirmed as though it weren't already a given.
It wasn't long before they found their way inside the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta took note of their entrance and signalled she would be with them in a moment as they took one of the empty booths.
After getting a pair of butterbeers and a plate of chips, Harry slipped out his wand and cast Muffliato. A confused frown formed on Daphne's face at the sudden buzzing noise in her ears.
"Just a privacy charm," Harry explained. "Now, who is responsible for Pansy?" A bubble of anticipation and nervousness built within him.
Daphne took a long sip of her butterbeer and wiped the thin layer of foam that rested on her lip before she answered. "I don't know."
Harry opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again quickly. Finally, he said, "What do you mean you don't know?"
"As you so kindly pointed out to me in the past, I don't know everything. Trust me when I say this, I want to find out who did this to Pansy just as much as you do," she said darkly over the rim of her glass.
A wave of disappointment came over him. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain Daphne would have known. Harry had really enjoyed his time with Daphne, enough to forget about his frustrations, but now they had returned and were growing.
He felt the urge to leave and go find Hagrid. He hadn't visited his friend as much as he should have this year.
The feeling of a soft hand on top of his own stopped him, however. "I don't know who did it; but that doesn't mean I don't know anything about what happened that night," Daphne said carefully.
Harry sat back down and leaned forward so as to catch her every word.
"The healers from St. Mungo's mentioned that Pansy was attacked four to five hours before she was found… I know you don't want to hear it, but that doesn't look good for your friends, seeing as their defense meeting ended around that time," Daphne squeezed his hand and smiled at him softly. "I can give you a list of people who I know didn't do it, if that makes you feel any better," she offered.
Harry nodded. His throat was too clenched to speak.
"Granger, Weasley and his sister, Lovegood, Thomas, Finnigan, Brown, the Patil twins and Bones," she listed off quickly. "Astoria went down with them and Macmillan to the kitchens after the meeting. Boot was busy exploring broom closets with his girlfriend, and Goldstein was in detention with Sprout for spilling over her Mandrakes and nearly killing the two of them."
"And the others?" Harry managed to force out.
"This is where things get muddled," she said, leaning back slightly, her eyes never leaving his. "Longbottom hasn't been seen much—"
"Wait, you can't seriously think Neville did this?" Harry interrupted.
"Longbottom hasn't been seen much lately," Daphne repeated slowly. "Pansy wasn't one to take it easy on him over the years, and with what happened to Abbott…"
"So, you think it was Neville," Harry said shortly.
"Chang has not been the same since Diggory died," Daphne continued rather than answer him. "Her behaviour has been erratic ever since, especially this year, and she's an emotional mess. You know that better than anyone," she smirked. "She was out in the castle after tutoring in the library, maybe Pansy caught her at the wrong time, and she snapped."
The thought was not a comfortable one and Harry found himself taking a long, deep drink to settle the feelings twisting in his gut.
"Then there is any amount of the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors that are unaccounted for. You could even throw Malfoy's name in there if you wanted, as suspicious as he's been acting this year," Daphne added, growing the list even further. "But he's been devasted since that night, hardly spoken a word—and that's without questioning why he would even do it in the first place. He went home for a couple of days after meeting with her father, the man was hoping they would marry after graduation."
They sat in a cold silence for some time, the buzzing of the spell masking the lively din of the pub.
Rubbing a tired hand down his face, dejectedly Harry said, "It's hopeless."
"I wouldn't say so," Daphne disagreed. "Eventually someone will say something to the wrong person at the wrong time and I'll find out. Let's just hope it is sooner rather than later, and the school doesn't break out into all-out war."
"That's what the first war was like, apparently," Harry said, remembering what Sirius and Remus had told him about their last few years at Hogwarts. "Nobody was safe, everyone was suspicious of each other. Fights broke out before, during, and after class, and only Dumbledore could keep any semblance of control. Merlin, I hope it doesn't come to that."
Harry finished his glass of butterbeer and brought it down with a smack on the table.
Conversation came easy after that, the mood of their cramped booth lightening to a tone more pleasant. They discussed defense class under Snape, and the vast improvement of the course in comparison to the past. As much as Harry disliked the man, Daphne managed to drag a few reluctant words of praise towards his aptitude to teaching the course.
They spoke of their friends and Quidditch, and soon, Daphne turned to probe for the reason behind his sudden success in potions class.
"Come off it, Harry," she leaned in while speaking, strands of loose dark hair falling over her eyes, "Snape must have given you tutoring instead of remedial potions."
Harry burst out laughing at the thought. "The last thing Snape would ever do is take time to tutor me."
"Then I give up!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, a carefree smile spread across her face. "There is no possible explanation as to how—"
Daphne stopped suddenly, her eyes staring intently at a spot just over his right shoulder.
"Isn't that the French Triwizard Champion?" she said confusedly.
Harry felt his heart skip. What was Fleur doing here? Had she come to visit him? It had been weeks since he had last seen her.
Harry quickly turned around, his eyes immediately finding her. It wasn't very difficult with the way she stood out from the common grime of a hardworking establishment like The Three Broomsticks. Her silvery blonde hair was tussled from the cold wind outdoors, a delicate rose painted her cheeks, and she was bundled up in what looked like an oversized brown coat.
"Why is she coming this way?" Daphne asked, a frown growing deeper into her brow the longer she looked.
Harry hadn't noticed it at first, but she was moving towards the booth he was currently sat in with Daphne. Just as he was about to wave, the beating of his heart slowed, and an uncomfortable feeling constricted his chest. Approaching beside her was Bill Weasley.
"Hey Harry!" Bill called in a cheery voice. He looked much the same as the last time Harry had seen him, with his red hair pulled tightly into a ponytail and dragon tooth earing swinging with each confident step he took. "How's term been? Defense still your favorite?" he asked, extending his hand for a shake.
He didn't seem to notice Daphne at all, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore her.
"Good," Harry replied, putting a smile on his face. "Lots of interesting stuff. Surprisingly Snape hasn't ruined my love for it," he laughed awkwardly.
"I pity you," said Bill, slapping Harry on the shoulder in a good-natured way. "I sent chocolates to Ron and Ginny straight from Germany when I found out, it's the least you all deserve for being put through that."
"I remember Ron and Ginny passing them around the common room. We found some solace in them, thanks."
He gave Harry a toothy grin before stepping closer and saying, "Speaking of those two, do you have any idea where I can find them? Thought it would be nice to surprise them after not seeing them all Summer."
"I didn't head down to the village with them today, but…" Harry paused for a moment to think. Looking up at Bill, who was waiting patiently for his response, Harry couldn't help but think how fortunate they were to have an older brother like him. It only made him loathe the bitter feeling he had in the pit of his stomach even more. "I'd check Zonko's or Honeydukes, that's usually where they visit first. If not, try Scrivenshaft's next, Hermione likely would have dragged them out there," he finally said.
"Thanks! It was good seeing you, Harry!" Bill clapped him over the shoulder again and gave a cheery wave. "I'll see you at Christmas," he said in parting, before stopping for a few whispered words and a kiss on the cheek for Fleur.
Harry watched Bill squeeze behind a table where Katie and Megan were sitting and exit the pub.
There was a moment of silence after his departure, during which Daphne flicked her eyes keenly between Harry and Fleur. "I think it's time for me to head back to the castle," she said in a stilted sort of way. Brushing a few crumbs from the front of her cloak, she slid from their booth but paused midway. "I… had a good time today, Harry," she said in almost a whisper.
Giving him one last look, Daphne waded into the crowd and disappeared outside.
"I remember 'er," Fleur said suddenly, as she took Daphne's spot across from him. "She was ze one who discovered some of ze more embarrassing moments wiz my Yule Ball date."
"Sounds like Daphne," Harry remarked, while pushing the plate of the remaining chips in Fleur's direction. Fleur shook them away silently.
"She zhen made me tell 'er about ze second task and my strategy for it, in order to prevent her from slipping ze details out 'accidently'," she added in annoyance.
"Definitely Daphne," Harry confirmed with a laugh.
"Zat eez dangerous, non? Looking out only for oneself," said Fleur curiously. Pulling her cloak even tighter around herself, her eyes peered at him intently.
"I think she would take that as a compliment," Harry said. In fact, he knew she would.
Fleur's features darkened for a second, as though a cloud of melancholy had passed over her. "I would not trust 'er affections towards you," she stated in a matter-a-fact way. Harry was about to speak up when she continued on, "She will leave when eet gets too difficult. I know ze type."
"We're not…" Harry's words trailed off into nothing. He didn't know what to say, mostly because he wasn't expecting this sort of conversation with Fleur.
Looking back across the table, Fleur's eyes continued to dig into him. The woman across from him seemed like an entirely different person from the one who'd shared a night with him under the stars. She felt so cold, so distant, not at all like the warmth that could fill the void deep within his person.
He desperately wanted to know what was wrong so he could make it right. But he didn't ask, leaving the words unspoken, just like the many already left between them.
"Hogsmeade…" Harry chewed on the word, breaking the silent and awkward air between them, "… a nice a place as any for an afternoon date with Bill."
"Eet is not much of a date," she said, pulling her hair over her shoulder and checking around their raucos surroundings. "Dumbledore wanted more eyes on ze village after zat girl was attacked, and William wanted to see his siblings."
"I know it was all over the news, but is the Order interested in what happened to Pansy?" Harry asked.
"Zhere was an entire meeting about what 'appened to ze girl with of all of ze members zat patrol around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade," Fleur explained.
"Is there any other news from the Order?" Harry asked, while waving Rosmerta over to pay. They waited for the barmaid to gather their things and clean the table before continuing.
"Good news for once," she said as they stepped out of The Three Broomsticks."Ze Werewolves 'ave not sided wiz Voldemort."
"They're fighting against him?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Non, meester Snape and Dumbledore said zat zey 'ave chosen not to fight," said Fleur. From her pocket she pulled a light-colored scarf Harry recognized from Beauxbatons and wrapped it around her neck. "Zey are split over ze war and do not trust Voldemort or ze British Ministry," she finished.
"I don't entirely blame them, nobody trusts them, and they'll be on the losing side of the war either way," said Harry.
Trying to move away from the war, and the thoughts of Remus that picked painfully at his mind, Harry asked about Fleur's family back in France; and in that moment, she lit up. Her pale blue eyes sparkled, and a gentle smile formed on her pink lips, her usual warmth breaking through the chill from earlier.
She spoke of past Christmases at their home in the south of France as they travelled through Hogsmeade back towards the castle. Memories poured from her in a great gush, her eyes off reliving them in detail with each word. He had never seen her so talkative before.
She was a wonder to behold in that moment. Snowflakes nearly blended in with her silvery hair, some catching on her long lashes, while others melted from the heat that radiated from her pale skin.
Fleur had just finished telling him about Gabrielle's first Christmas when Harry opened his mouth to speak, only to have a piercing scream cut off his speech.
He moved on instinct, his wand out and pointed alertly in front of him as he raced through the streets of Hogsmeade in the direction of the sound. Fleur was right beside him matching step for step.
There was no second guessing what he had heard. It wasn't the scream of children playing, there was something different about it—something off. He knew something had gone wrong in the worst way possible, and that made him run only faster.
Wind slapped across his face and bit at his skin with icy teeth. The snow which had once been light and fluffy now stung at his eyes like sharp pins. The weather had turned as if sensing the danger in the air.
His scarf had blown some way down the path, but Harry had hardly noticed, too focused on the shrieking wind in his ears that mixed with the sound he was chasing.
Reaching the crest of a hill that sat beneath the castle, whatever air was left in his heaving lungs vanished at what he saw in the center of a crowd of students.
Floating some fifteen feet in the air, with her arms spread wide in the shape of a perverted cross, was Katie Bell.
It was nightmarish—her skin grey and nearly as translucent as a ghost, and her mouth held open in a silent scream. She hung limply like a marionette by its strings.
A group of third year students stared up in horror, unsure of what was happening but knowing enough to weep. Colin Creevey and some upper year students tried to shield them from the view, but were frozen in fear, wide eyed, not knowing what to do. In the center of them all was Megan on her knees beside a discarded piece of cloth, wailing and crying out for anyone to help.
Fleur saw it before he did, the ornate opal necklace that was partially wrapped in the cloth by Megan's knees.
Shouting at the students to clear away, she shot a purple spell at the necklace, one he did not recognize, and Katie came plummeting to the ground below.
Immediately, Megan began crawling to her friend, but Harry reacted in time by putting a shield between the two and freezing Megan in place. He didn't know what affect the necklace had on Katie and couldn't risk it possessing Megan as well.
Katie lay still as a corpse, only a shallow rise and fall of her chest showing she still had life.
Lying there in the pure white snow, his mind flashed to the image of Pansy on the hospital bed sheets. No, Harry thought, a cold dread gripping his heart, this can't happen. Not again…
"Move!" Fleur shouted again, and this time the crowd listened. "Do not touch ze necklace!" she added forcefully. Carefully with her wand, she extracted it from the cloth and spread it on the ground. She began casting simultaneously between Katie and the necklace, muttering words in French beneath her breath, her face skewed in intense concentration.
It was amazing to watch the way she worked, carving runes and various symbols in the frozen earth around the necklace, while maintaining the continuous stream of her incantation.
"'Arry," she called his name after taking a breath, "reach into my robes and pull out ze silver knife in my leather pouch."
Acting without question, Harry slipped his hand down the front pocket of her robes, feeling her slenderness of her leg through the thin material. He felt his face grow hot but kept searching until he felt the rough of leather at his fingertips.
Unravelling the pouch, he was met with the sight of a host of metal instruments, none of which he knew what to do with. Scanning the array of tools, it was under a flap at the end where he found the silver knife she had requested.
Fleur grabbed it not a second later and sliced open Katie's palm, dragging the blade through the blood soaking into the snow and coating its outside. Fleur ignored the gasps heard around them and let the blood drip slowly onto the surface of the opal necklace, each drop hissing angrily upon touching the cursed surface as black smoke and the stink of rotten flesh filled the air.
"Zhat eez not good," Harry could hear Fleur say after the tenth drop.
Panic leaked back into the air, and he could see a slight tremble to Fleur's hands as she wiped the blade clean and put it away. She tapped a finger against her lip, thinking madly, and with each passing second her eyes filled with a growing desperation.
"What's going on here!" a loud voice came from behind the crowd, and head of red hair peaked in to view. "What in Merlin's saggy left—"
"Ze necklace eet was cursed," Fleur took over, regaining some of her composure. "Eet is Romanian in origin and attacks ze nervous system. She eez dying slowly. You are more qualified zan I am, I did what I could."
Fleur stepped to the side, giving Bill room to approach.
Pulling a silk scarf out of his pocket, Bill wrapped the necklace and tucked it carefully in his coat. With his wand, he gently levitated Katie into the air. "Everyone back to the castle!" he ordered.
The students ran to the safety of the gate, and Bill followed closely behind at a brisk pace. Harry released Megan from his spell, and she scrambled after them, not looking back once.
There was an eerie silence once the chaos had passed, the only sound coming from the distant crunch of footsteps slowly fading away. Harry stayed behind to help Fleur pack up and clear the ground of her carvings.
"Eet eez a basic Curse-Breakers tool kit," she said, after catching him staring at the pouch in interest. "Most Gringotts employees carry one at all times."
"And they want to keep you behind a desk and away from proper field work?" said Harry with admiration.
Fleur blushed and smiled at him softly. "Zhank you 'Arry, but I did not do much. I did not know what to do to heal 'er." She sounded disappointed with herself.
"You did something when nobody else could," he said. "That means something, Fleur. You probably just saved Katie's life."
Fleur peered up at him with a strange look in her eyes and took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Harry swallowed thickly but didn't dare look away from her. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face and the sweet scent of lavender fill in his nose. It was as if an unseen force was drawing them together outside of conscious thought, until she hesitated. Space between them did not exist and time seemed to stretch forever, and then he felt something warm and wet linger on the corner of his mouth.
It was over before Harry's mind could catch up to the wild beating of his hearth, and Fleur turned her head away, breaking their stare. Nothing was said as they walked up the path to Hogwarts, leaving Harry to wonder if he'd only imagined what had just transpired between them.
He wanted to say something, but again found that he couldn't. He wished it could be so much simpler, but perhaps it just wasn't meant to be.
It was when they rounded the Black Lake along the edge of the school, that Harry heard the scuff of running footsteps approach them from the side.
"Harry!"
He turned to see Ron approaching at pace, his robes whipping behind him in the wind and Hermione struggling to keep up with his long-legged strides behind him.
"Harry!" he called again. "Did you hear what happened?"
"Hear? We were there, Ron," Harry said.
"There?" It was Hermione that spoke up this time, looking perplexed, "We just came from there."
Harry frowned looking at his friends. They had come running from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, they couldn't possibly have run into Bill and Katie.
"What are you talking about?" Harry questioned.
"What is Fleur doing here?" Hermione asked, finally taking notice of her.
"She came up with Bill, but never mind that. What were you talking about?"
"Spiders, mate…" Ron was about as white as the snow. "Spiders…" his voice shook as he repeated it a second time.
"Spiders?"
What did some small creatures have to do with Ron and Hermione chasing after them?
"It's second year all over again," Ron tremored. "It's Aragog's kids."
Harry felt something thick settle in his stomach. He could almost feel the pulse of venom swirling in his from where he'd been bitten in the maze.
"Where?" Harry asked, wondering if he had gone mad.
"By Hagrid's," Hermione replied.
Harry quickly came to the conclusion that he had, in fact, lost it.
"Wait, what happened to you?" Hermione asked.
"Katie's been cursed," Harry said feeling sick at the words. "It's… really bad. Fleur will take you."
With that, he pulled out his wand and broke out into a sprint towards Hagrid's, not caring if his friends objected to what he was about to do next.
The grounds were completely empty, not a single student in sight. At least everyone has managed to get away safely, Harry thought.
He was forced to slow down when he reached the top of the hill leading down to Hagrid's. Looking below he scanned the edge of the foresta and past Hagrid's various gardens and pens containing which held some of the tamer creatures he used for class.
It was halfway down the hill where he spotted the first traces of Acromantula. A series of enormous black masses sat still and curled up on their backs. Approaching carefully, he could see some had been split in two, others squashed to pieces, and the odd few with crossbow bolt embedded in their hair bodies.
Harry could see flashes of spell fire from the opposite end of Hagrid's home, but before he could move over there his attention was quickly directed to a handful of furry black dots charging at him from the forest.
They approached at an unnatural speed, their pincers clicking and clacking together in a grotesque thirst for flesh. Only a dozen feet away now, Harry could see their rows of black eyes, glossy and unblinking drip a white gluey secretion.
He ducked as the first spider pounced. Something wet splashed against the back of his neck and he felt it sting like the spray of hot oil.
They surrounded him now, circling dangerously and hissing out half formed syllables and sounds that were lost amongst each click CLACK click CLACK.
If there was one creature Harry wouldn't mind being exterminated from the world, this would be the one; and he was more than ready to do his part in eliminating them now.
Another Acromantula sprung at him and Harry dove forward, flashing his wand upwards. The deep red light of his spell smashed into its soft underbelly, exploding into a gory mess, its eight legs shooting off in eight different directions.
He could hear the high-pitched screams come from its remaining brothers and sisters, the ground rumbling with thunder as they all stampeded towards him.
One of the spiders reared up on its back legs, smacking its pincers madly together and spraying the air with more of its venom like some slobbery old dog.
Seeing the opportunity to strike again, Harry tried a spell he had been itching to use for weeks now. For enemies, it said in the Prince's handwriting. This was certainly a situation that applied to its description.
Sectumsempra, he spoke clearly in his mind, the holly wand in his hand perfectly tracing a half-circle and dash. From the tip of his wand shot what appeared to be a scarlet ribbon, which slashed through its target like an invisible sword, spurting black blood from the gaping wound in the center of its body.
Harry's eyes widened as he watched the tarry cruor hiss and steam as it seeped across the snow.
Inherently dark indeed, Harry thought to himself. Dumbledore was not exaggerating when he warned him of some of the spells in the old potions book. However, the spider was dead, and that gave Harry more than enough reason to continue using it.
In the blink of an eye, Harry bombarded two more Acromantula with this powerful new spell, before they even had the chance to adapt to this new threat.
Cautious now, they skittered back and formed a perimeter just far enough to dodge and just close enough where they could reach him in a matter of seconds.
It was a waiting game they played, lunging forward and backwards a few steps at a time never letting him know which one would strike next.
There were five left.
CLICK CLACK click clack CLICK CLACK click clack came the sound of their pincers thrashing in the air at once. Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He turned slowly in a circle never letting his back face one for too long. Sweat dripped off the tip of his nose, as his heart pounded so hard, he was shocked it hadn't burst.
It was in the blink of an eye that they struck. One in front, and one directly behind him by the sound of its trampling legs. It was as though one was sacrificing itself so that its kin would succeed, a thought which sent a chill down his spine.
The first one collapsed with the Prince's spell tearing right through it. He knew the second was only feet behind, far too close for him to react with the same spell. Instead, Harry resorted to a spell he'd read from Secrets of the Darkest Arts—a variant of cursed fire that could be called on in an instant. It wasn't a pleasant spell by any means, designed to melt the flesh off of a living body, but he was desperate.
With an extravagant twirl and channeling the deep heat and passion he felt within himself earlier with Fleur, a flash of fire leapt from his wand, scorching the air where the Acromantula was mere inches from him. It screeched in unholy agony, catching instantly and disintegrating before his very eyes, but its previous momentum carried over, careening its charred remains into his body.
Harry stumbled under the force of its impact and cursed as a searing pain burned into the side of his face and neck.
This one moment of distraction left him on the back foot, with the three remaining Acromantula now charging him at once.
Whipping the flame through the air, Harry manipulated the magic behind it and shaped the fire around his closest foe. A great flaming sphere hovered in the air where the spider used to be, and when he collapsed it inwards, only speckles of black dust and ash tumbled to the snow below.
He felt more than saw what came next, and only managed to partially twist his body as one of the two remaining creatures barreled into him with a force that rattled his teeth. He smacked into the ground, the breath knocked out of him, just as a set of hairy legs climbed on top of him.
The smell was horrendous, like a body that had been left to rot in a heap of trash in the heat of summer. In that moment, he couldn't fathom how even Hagrid thought having one of these as a pet was a good idea.
Its pincers snapped at his face and Harry just twisted his face out of the way of their sharp, venomous kiss. He much preferred Fleur's to their own.
A concussive blow from his wand was enough to knock the creature a dozen feet away, allowing Harry to clamber to his feet. He immediately banished the smoking remains of one of the corpses at the spider still charging him. The scent of its burning hair and flesh was enough to make Harry retch in his mouth and tears stream from his eyes.
With the Acromantula crashing into the remains of one of its siblings, and distracted by its burns, Harry blasted it like the first, leaving only pulp behind.
Turning to face the last of the spiders, he could see it crawling to its feet. He noticed it had been thrown to the spot where he incinerated one of the others, its flaky ashes lying in melted snow. A flash of inspiration hit him, somewhat cruel, but one that would end the battle.
With a sharp twirl and downward flick of his wand, Harry transfigured the ashes into shards of glass, which he summoned upwards from underneath the remaining Acromantula. One second the spider looked ready to charge, the next it lay dead on the ground, a shower of glass flying up in the sky and twinkling like diamonds in the sunlight.
Harry collapsed to his hands and knees, taking long desperate breaths. He spat out the remaining bile in his mouth and scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it against the burns on his face.
Walking around Hagrid's hut to where he saw spell fire earlier, Harry came across a dozen more corpses surrounding the figures of Dumbledore and Hagrid, who had his crossbow slung over his shoulder.
"…you have my deepest sympathies. How much longer do you think he has?" Harry caught a snippet of their conversation.
"It's hard ter say, he's not gettin' any better and his kids are gettin' kind o' funny," the half-giant spoke, gesturing to the carnage around them.
"Yes, well the issue will need to resolve itself in time," Dumbledore said calmly. "Are you still able to travel to the colony?"
"It's been so long, it's hard ter think we won't be tergether forever…" Harry thought he heard a sob escape Hagrid, though it sounded more like a blow from a broken trumpet. "I can still travel ter the nest as long as Aragog's alive."
"Then let us hope he finds a second wind and surprises us all. Our world is one full of miracles," said Dumbledore as he reached up to place a consoling hand on his former students back.
Hagrid gave a sorrowful nod, before trudging back to his hut where Fang sat on the front porch, somehow managing to sleep through the chaos.
"I see you managed to join in on some of the excitement," Dumbledore spoke as he turned around to greet Harry.
Harry walked forward to stand next to his headmaster. "I guess you could say that, it certainly hasn't been a boring day," he replied.
"When those few Acromantula managed to slip past me and Hagrid, I feared Minerva or Filius would need to act to protect the children. I am correct in assuming you managed to stop them?" Dumbledore asked, though the pride gleaming from his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
"They won't be causing any problems," Harry said grimly.
"Very impressive, Harry, very impressive indeed," Dumbledore nodded, while stroking his beard.
With his gloved hand, he readjusted his spectacles on the crook of his nose and peered closely at Harry. "I would recommend getting that burn looked at by Madam Pomfrey. As cool as scars sometimes look, I think you could do without that one," he advised.
The pain now radiated intensely down his neck, pulsing to the beat of his heart.
"I think Madam Pomfrey might be a bit busy at the moment," said Harry darkly, remembering what had transpired moments before the Acromantula broke loose.
"Ah, so you are aware of what happened to Miss Bell," said Dumbledore.
"I was there when it happened. Fleur stabilized her long enough for Bill to take her back to school," said Harry.
"I had hoped the extra Order presence in Hogsmeade would be simply precautionary, but I am glad my foresight proved effective in this case. I could not bear losing another student," said Dumbledore, with a sheen developing in his eye.
"So, Katie will survive?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Between Severus, Poppy, and William, I am sure things are well in hand for Miss Bell's eventual recovery," Dumbledore answered, and Harry felt himself smile.
Dumbledore then stepped forward and gestured to his side, and asked, "Would you be willing to indulge me for a moment, Harry?"
"Of course, sir," Harry replied, and stepped towards Dumbledore at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"Reach out and tell me what you feel," Dumbledore prompted.
Just as he did when learning to apparate, Harry searched for the ripples of magic around him. He felt its normal tide swirl around his back and sides, but directly in front of him was an impenetrable wall. Nothing moved forwards or backwards through the barrier, almost as if it were made out of the same centuries old stone as Hogwarts.
"There's a wall," he replied. "It's made of ancient, powerful magic. I don't see how anything could get through it."
"Well done, Harry," said Dumbledore. "What you are feeling are some of the protective wards that have surrounded Hogwarts for hundreds of years. They were created to keep unwanted things out."
"Then how did the Acromantula get in?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled having predicted the question. "Tell me what you feel here," he said, and pointed to a space twenty feet their right.
Harry moved to the area, but this time where he expected to run into the same magical barricade, it was gone. It felt as though it had been torn out in great chunks.
"What happened?" Harry asked, shocked.
"To that, I can only guess. It is possible that some of the protections added to the castle at the beginning of the year could have reacted poorly with the older enchantments and caused this," Dumbledore hypothesized, but there was something in his voice that made it sound as if he did not believe his own words.
"Will it happen again?" Harry asked.
"I certainly hope not," Dumbledore replied, an unnerving look lurking in his eyes.