Sixth Year: The Steps Toward The End

by scaryisntit

After losing Sirius, Harry resolves to himself to become stronger, revive the DA and create his own 'army'. In one of the most trying year of his life, Harry will need everything he and his friends can offer to overcome the trails and tribulations before him.

12. Frustration

Chapter 12: Frustration

"Everyone but Neville and Hermione go on ahead." Harry told the DA members.

The eleven DA members, three prisoners and Madam Rosmerta were at the edge of the Hogsmeade side of the Forbidden Forest. The rain had finally ceased completely, leaving the entire forest covered with a layer of moisture, soaking through each of the students' clothes and, irritatingly, their shoes. A few quick flicks of each of their wands dried and warmed them all.

"How come?" Katie asked.

"I imagine Harry wants to keep the knowledge of his associate's secret as long as possible," said Padma, facing Katie. She turned to Harry and smiled, "Correct?"

"Right," Harry answered, guiding the still disoriented Rosmerta to a nearby tree for her to try and rest a moment. "It won't be hard to twist the story to make it like there was just Neville, Hermione and me." Harry faced them and smiled. "Thanks for coming."

After a moment's hesitation, wherein the group exchanged looks with one and other, they responded.

"No worries, Harry," Neville said brightly.

"We're with you, Harry," Padma replied determinedly.

"Whenever you need us, call, alright?" Hannah said with a smile.

"Same goes for me," Susan added. The two Hufflepuff females made to leave, Susan hesitating a moment. "I'm sorry about before," she said, her eyes downcast.

"Forget it happened." Harry said offhandedly, waving it off. "Everything worked out fine."

"I won't make the same mistakes again, okay?" she replied meeting his eyes. "Loyalty and all, it's important to 'Puffs." Harry just smiled and nodded appreciatively, though quietly curious as to the hesitation. A moment later the two female Hufflepuffs waved goodbye. As they walked in the opposite direction, the two drew their wands, Disillusioned themselves and, under the protection of the spell, made for the opposite end of town.

Padma, Luna and Su were the next to go, heading in a different direction than the Hufflepuffs. Katie looked at her hands and robes with a disgusted look, waved her wand briefly to clean herself up and left with Ernie several steps behind her.

Surprisingly, Ernie kept his ego in check for the duration of their trip back. Perhaps his attitude had finally changed after Daphne had a bit of a go at him? Perhaps that was wishful thinking.

Harry sighed and sat down on a log, ignoring the dampness.

"Madam Rosmerta?" he asked the still frightened landlady.

Rosmerta was trembling, with a look of intense concentration and fear etched on her features. Harry gathered she was still getting accustomed to the idea of having a couple of hours of missing memories forevermore and being put under the Imperius.

Harry continued, "In your story, can you say that it was just us three that were in the fight?" Rosmerta looked around at Harry, Hermione and Neville, unfocused, and nodded but remained silent.

"Good. My part can remain the same," Harry informed Hermione and Neville. "Though Neville," Neville stood to attention. "You will be the one who circled and struck from behind, alright?"

"Not exactly lying." Neville said with a brief, albeit tight, grin. He looked like he was still on a high after their success.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Harry tuned to her and asked gently. "They didn't do anything to you do they?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "I slipped when we were trying to get out of the rain. I was Stunned and woke up out in the woods." She pointed back in the direction they came from. "The two idiots," she pointed to Crabbe and Goyle, "woke me after they'd tied me to the tree, but forgot to disarm me. I felt the ring burn, so I knew you would be coming. That man … Yaxley? He didn't bother checking. I waited for the right moment to break free."

Hermione leant down and put her hands on Harry's shoulders, her face close to his. "Now," she whispered softly and Harry immediately felt the urge to wince. He wasn't going to like the next part. "What in the name of God were you doing coming head on into a trap?"

"The longer the Death Eaters think that I'm a hot-headed kid the better, right?" he retorted a little sharper than he wanted. He shook his head. "What would I have done last year?"

"Charge in head on," Hermione answered slowly, a flicker of hurt on her face for the smallest moment. She tightened her grip on his shoulders slightly before releasing. "God, Harry," she whispered. "We have to be a lot more careful outside of the castle this year."

Harry stayed silent, wisely not mentioning the fact that she was the one who got captured.

"We'll be fine, Hermione," Harry said confidently. This win had given him a sense of confidence he had not felt in awhile. It was slightly intoxicating. Even though he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Neville, can we have a moment please?" Hermione asked with a tone that indicated it was pointless, if not painful, to fail to comply. Neville raised an eyebrow, risked a quick glance at Harry, who wore a blank expression, and gently shepherded Madame Rosmerta away.

To Harry's surprise, Hermione cast a Silencing Charm around the two of them the moment Neville was gone.

"Hermione?"

"This is getting worse, Harry," Hermione said worriedly. She looked troubled, deeply troubled.

"The Death Eaters?" asked Harry slowly, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

"First Amelia Bones, then the Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley and now this," Hermione quickly ticked off on her figures the most recent, most influential attacks. "Do you realize what this means?"

"That Voldemort is becoming more confident, yes." Harry said. "It's not entirely unexpected. Besides the attacks on me, he's doing decently for himself."

Hermione pursed her lips and pondered her wording for a moment. She turned on her feet and started pacing up and down the mud ridden path Harry had travelled to rescue her.

"Killing Amelia Bones made sense," Hermione said after a moment. "From what you told me of your trial, she was strict, but fair. A few articles that mention her in the Daily Prophet enforce that impression of her."

Harry was suddenly very thankful that Susan had left. It wasn't meant to be mean or anything of the like, but the way Hermione was speaking was without the usual compassion one would expect when discussing a dead woman, especially her aunt and the last of her family … that Harry knew of at least.

"So what?" Harry pressed quietly.

"As head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, with that personality, Madame Bones would have posed a great obstacle for," Hermione paused and took a deep breath, "Voldemort."

Nodding, Harry said, "She wasn't the type to be bribed or coerced into anything."

"Exactly," Hermione said, stopping her pacing and pointing to Harry as she spoke.

"But what has that got to do with anything besides the fact she would have been a great ally?"

"Attacking a high rank official, one so obviously opposed to Voldemort, would require a lot of confidence," Hermione explained hurriedly. "A failure would be catastrophic to his cause. Madame Bones would go into the deepest hiding available."

"Fidelius," Harry supplied, thinking of his parents. A thought occurred to him that he hadn't entertained before. Did his parents ever know the prophecy? He probably wouldn't get the answer and it didn't really matter. His parents were still murdered and he was still the prophecy child, but, somehow, it seemed right that his parents had known, or should have known, what they had died for.

"Rumour has it Voldemort himself attacked her," Hermione continued, her eyebrows burrowed in concentration.

"He really didn't want the attack to fail if he went himself," said Harry slowly, his eyes losing focus, staring unseeingly at Hermione. This discussion was already wiping away his joyousness at the minor victory over Yaxley. Still, he did not have the heart to stop Hermione. When she got like this she usually came up with a solution, an answer or, unfortunately, a new problem.

"The attack on the Hogwarts Express was a very bold move," Hermione reasoned. "Three Death Eaters on a train full of schoolchildren are not good odds. But it nearly worked. Voldemort understands fear and how crushing it can be to an opposition. If we fear him, we can't fight at full strength. Fear kept the students at bay, from helping, from thinking straight."

"Two decades of calling him 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' means that very few can fight him properly then," said Harry sullenly.

Hermione grimaced, for she was guilty of that as much as the next person. "What I mean is his successful attack on Amelia Bones increased his confidence and his daring. The Hogwarts Express attack may have been a failure, but it does prove that there are few places that are truly safe."

"Hermione," Harry said tiredly. "Warming Charms aside, it isn't particularly comfortable out here. What's your point?"

Hermione flushed slightly and said exasperatedly, "Planned or unplanned attacks aside, his attacks are becoming more and more frequent, in more and more public places."

"I understand that, Hermione," Harry said softly. "And because of that, he's going to attack places of greater and greater importance. I don't know that much about war, but that makes perfect sense to me."

Harry paused and stared directly into Hermione's eyes. She bit her lip; a defensive gesture.

"What are you really worried about?" asked Harry seriously. Hermione didn't reply, but she didn't look away. She couldn't.

"Our families, Harry. My family," Hermione eventually replied, bluntly at that.

"Oh," Harry said stupidly. He had, admittedly, completely forgotten about the danger the families of those he associated with would be in.

"I'm certain that the others are the same. After this, they are probably worried about themselves, too."

Harry nodded and digested this. Their hesitation … perhaps this was why?

"What can we do?"

"I don't know," she admitted, breaking eye contact.

"Voldemort doesn't seem to be too focused on attacking anyone except Aurors, Ministry workers and me at the moment," Harry replied, trying to reassure her. Mentioning himself probably wasn't wise in achieving that goal.

"I'm really worried, Harry," Hermione said softly, her voice nearly breaking. "It never occurred to me just how easily someone could be captured until today. If I was captured this easily, how can Muggles like my parents stand a chance?"

Harry stood up and laid a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We'll find a way to keep them safe, alright?" he told her. "Everyone else's parents as well."

In two quick movements Hermione wiped both her eyes free of tears that were threatening to fall. It had been far too close a call than she would ever be comfortable with.

"Come on," Neville interrupted, calling out through the edge of the forest. "We've given them plenty of time to get an alibi if anyone bothers to notice. Let's go."

Harry released his grip on Hermione's shoulder, walked over to Madam Rosmerta, grasped her hand, directed her in the direction of the castle and let Neville and Hermione levitate the three prisoners.

It was only a short time after midday. Since he left Hogwarts, only an hour and a half had passed. It felt far longer.

There were a few students already returning from Hogsmeade as Harry, Hermione and Neville approached the castle. These early returnees were treated to the sight of Harry, with Madam Rosmerta on his arm, and Hermione and Neville levitating the bodies of Crabbe, Goyle and a third man nobody recognized. Unsurprisingly, Professor McGonagall was waiting for them at the entrance to the school. The word of the approaching sight passed quickly.

"Mr. Potter," she said in disbelief. "What in name of Merlin is this?"

"Professor, I think it might be best for us to visit Professor Dumbledore," Harry said politely, maintaining a firm hold on the still trembling Madam Rosmerta. "It would save me repeating myself."

Professor McGonagall looked a bit affronted, glanced at Madam Rosmerta, saw her condition and quickly recovered. "Come."

"Professor McGonagall what about their search?" Filch said angrily, as the three students walked straight past him, his hands itching to prod and probe the three students with his Secrecy Sensors.

"There is no need, Argus," McGonagall replied shortly. "These students are not the type to smuggle in anything."

Unhappily, Filch stood down and, a moment later, returned his attentions to other students returning early. Harry winced at what the treatment of the next student was going to be like.

Dumbledore was waiting in his office, as if expecting them, as always.

"Ah, Harry, Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom and Madam Rosmerta, care to explain this?" Dumbledore asked politely, and mildly amusedly at Hermione and Neville who unceremoniously had dropped their charges on top of each other, though Yaxley with a little more care due to his broken bones.

"Sir," Harry began, disregarding the pleasantries in favour of getting to the point. "These three are responsible for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Hermione."

"Murder?" Professor McGonagall repeated in shock. She looked at the bloodied faces of Crabbe and Goyle. "B-But these two are children!"

"Think who their parents are, Professor," Harry said patiently to McGonagall. "They're Death Eaters, or at least will be soon enough. It's only to be expected."

Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "When the storm started, Hermione and I were separated. I didn't realize until I had run for a few minutes to reach cover."

"Is that when you accosted Mundungus in the Hog's Head?" Dumbledore inquired, eyes twinkling.

Harry was taken aback. How'd he known that?

"The barman and I have had a long and rich relationship," Dumbledore explained as if reading his mind, though Harry could tell he wasn't. "He informed me of your reaction to Mundungus stealing Sirius' belongings." Hermione and Neville gave him questioning looks. Harry ignored them.

"Did you know?" Harry asked, clenching his fists, radiating anger at the thought of the thief.

"No I did not, Harry," Dumbledore answered, shaking his head briefly. "I expect that he will not return to Headquarters at all after your words of warning."

Harry stood steadfast. He didn't regret threatening the thief. "As long as he doesn't steal anymore of Sirius' stuff…"

"That foul thief has been stealing Black family heirlooms?" Phineas Nigellus' portrait interrupted Harry. All eyes, except those of Dumbledore, turned to him. "He's been looting the items of the Black heritage?" he continued, outraged. Without waiting for an answer, he then walked off, presumably to visit his painting at Grimmauld Place and see what was taken.

"I'm certain he won't try anything, Harry," Dumbledore placated Harry, ignoring the interruption. "From what I heard, you were very convincing."

"Good," Harry replied. Hermione, Neville and McGonagall were watching this banter, all equally curious to what happened in the Hog's Head. Madam Rosmerta on the other hand just stood in a corner of the room, looking about, not entirely aware of what was happening.

"Please continue, Harry," Dumbledore urged, sending Madam Rosmerta a quick gaze every now and then to check her condition.

"After I met Dung, I remembered Hermione. I was worried, so I went out to find her," Harry explained. "Neville met me while I was searching for her and helped."

"We had no idea where she was, so Harry used a spell to track her," Neville continued for Harry. "We found her in a section of the Forest outside the gates of Hogwarts. She was tied to a tree with these three," Neville shot a glare at the three unconscious, bound prisoners, "Watching over her. Harry got the idea to Disillusion me, to appear alone, and send me around the back so all attention was focused on him."

"I walked straight up to them, distracted them so Neville could take out Crabbe and Goyle, and then together we got this one." Harry knelt down and pointed to Yaxley. "He wasn't at the rebirth, so he must be reasonably new."

"Yaxley, I believe his name is," Dumbledore said, nodding. "He was a student here."

"A Slytherin," McGonagall added, recalling the student.

"Not surprisingly," Harry said getting back to his feet. "Quite a few Slytherins are Death Eaters to be, with these two high among them." Harry pointed to Malfoy's sidekicks.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore admonished. "Just because two students are involved, doesn't mean the rest of them." Harry was undeterred. He had been expecting this. It was an admirable, if not slightly foolish, trait the Headmaster had, the belief that there was good within everyone.

"With respect, sir," Harry challenged, "Everything bad thing that has happened to me here has been because of a Slytherin, past or present, with the exception of a past Gryffindor. I believe I have every right to be suspicious of the other Slytherins." Hermione nudged him, a glare on her face. Harry knew he was going to get lectured about respect to Professor's later.

"Mr. Potter, beyond that do you have any evidence that there was any other involvement?" McGonagall asked shortly, bothered by her charges attitude. "And what of Madam Rosmerta, why is she here?"

"Madam Rosmerta was unfortunate and unlucky enough to get involved in this. She was put under the Imperius and was the one who kidnapped Hermione. Neville and I didn't know who she was because she was wearing a cloak to hide her identity so we merely Stunned her," Harry explained, calming himself down. Their refusal to believe him was not helping his trust in them both.

"The Imperius Curse?" McGonagall repeated in disbelief. She walked over to the bartender and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Rosmerta, are you alright?" Rosmerta started again at the contact, nodded at McGonagall and slumped to the floor.

McGonagall knelt down immediately to help her back up. The Professor shot a look at Dumbledore.

"I'll get Madame Pomfrey to take a look at her in a moment, Minerva. I have something to ask her when we are done with Mr. Potter," Dumbledore informed them. "Continue," he said to Harry.

"You've taught these two for five years, Professor McGonagall; do you really believe they could cast the Imperius Curse?" Harry asked seriously. "I'm not talking about whether they would or not, whether they have the ability to. Barty Crouch Jr. told us that not everyone has the ability to cast the Unforgivables."

McGonagall from her position on the floor did her best to search Harry for something before sighing. "No, I honestly would be surprised if they could," she admitted, returning her attentions to Madam Rosmerta.

"Madam Rosmerta told me that the last thing she remembered before waking up in the Forest were several Hogwarts students entering the Three Broomsticks," Harry nudged Yaxley with his foot. "That crosses this one off the list." Harry then stared straight into the eyes of the Headmaster, McGonagall and back again. "Try and tell me that that isn't suspicious."

"I agree completely, Professors," Neville spoke. Harry, Hermione, McGonagall and Dumbledore all turned their attentions on him. Neville was taken aback by the sudden attention but recovered quickly. "Crabbe and Goyle barely are able to finish their classes. They are also repeating their fifth year. From what the Fake-Moody told us, the Imperius takes a bit of skill. Frankly, they couldn't."

"I was also there when Madam Rosmerta told Harry what she remembered," Neville continued. Thinking back to what the bartender had said, Harry thought of an idea.

"Madam Rosmerta?" he asked gently, kneeling beside her. Rosmerta looked up at Harry and gave him a small smile, her eyes a little more focused than before. "Were there any other patrons inside the room before the Hogwarts students entered?"

Rosmerta shook her head slowly, thinking. "I don't normally get many customers till lunch time. The breakfast group was long gone."

"See," Harry rounded back on the two Professors, standing again. "I don't have definitive proof of who did it, but I have the right to be suspicious of Slytherins in the school." Harry locked gazes with Dumbledore again. "And I know you can appreciate the art of educated speculation, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, slightly impressed at Harry's perseverance. "This does not rule out the involvement of someone else, however I will take your speculations into account in the investigation, Harry."

"I have one more thing to add, Professor," Harry interrupted before he was dismissed. "The person at the top of my suspect list is undoubtedly Draco Malfoy."

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy have been a trio for the past five years," Harry continued as if nothing had happened. "You rarely see one without the other two." Harry did realize this also referred to the old Harry, Hermione and Ron. "I find it hard to believe that Malfoy wasn't involved."

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said dismissively. "I believe I have all the information I need. I'll take care of the Auror Investigation. You may go now."

Harry nodded, expecting to be dismissed as usual, turned and left. Neville and Hermione followed him straight away.

"Harry," Hermione hissed as soon as they reached the stairwell. "What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"Can you honestly say that you believe Malfoy isn't involved in something that Crabbe and Goyle are?" Harry retorted, rounding on her, venting his frustration at the lack of helpfulness by both the Headmaster and his Head of House. "What is with you this year, Hermione? Why do you refuse to believe what's right in front of you?"

Hermione flushed, her expression livid. "Would you stop saying that Malfoy's a Death Eater, Harry?" she said impatiently. "You don't have any proof and –"

"And educated speculation is not good enough for you?" Harry interrupted; stopping passed the Gargoyles and facing Hermione fully in the hallway.

"Harry," Neville said softly.

"Honestly, Harry, speculation isn't proof," Hermione shot back, batting a stray hair from her face.

"We've speculated before and you were all for it," Harry countered, gesturing to Hermione at his mention of her past actions.

"Harry," Neville said a little louder.

"We've been wrong before too," Hermione replied. "Remember Snape first year?"

"Who would've suspected Quirrell?" Harry said quietly. "He was one nobody paid attention too. Snape was constantly involved in whatever went wrong that year and treated me like dirt. How could I not have suspected him? What do you suppose Malfoy is up to in the Room all the time? He isn't using it for fun. Have you noticed how he's paler than ever, dark lines under his eyes? Notice how he hasn't bothered anyone lately? Whatever he's up to is important enough to concentrate on it completely."

"Harry," Neville repeated a third time, louder than ever.

"What?" Harry and Hermione yelled at the same time.

"You forgot the necklace," Neville said quietly.

"Bloody hell," Harry swore, reached into his pocket and removed the necklace. He had told everyone about it on the walk to find Hermione.

"Is that…?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening in recognition.

"The one you wanted to know how much it cost when we were tailing Malfoy in Diagon Alley. Yeah," he finished for her. "Don't touch it without gloves on. Merlin knows what it does." Harry added as he noticed Neville begin to reach out for it.

Harry turned around and walked back to the Gargoyle statues and said the password. "Snickers." The Gargoyles moved aside to reveal the staircase. Hermione and Neville were right behind him.

"What do you think of Harry's speculation?" Harry heard McGonagall's voice penetrate the door. Harry, startled, was about to announce his presence when he felt instead that it would be to his advantage to listen, and knelt down to do so. Neville and Hermione followed suit.

"About Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked for confirmation, though Harry could tell he knew exactly who McGonagall had referred too. "Even if he is guilty, nothing will happen."

"What?" McGonagall replied, shocked. Harry clenched his hands on the cold stone.

"Lucius may be in prison, but there are many in the Ministry that still owe him a lot," Dumbledore said solemnly. Harry could imagine the Headmaster rubbing his eyes. "Those people would prevent Mr. Malfoy from being expelled or suspended."

"But if Harry is right, aren't other students in constant danger around him?" McGonagall asked worriedly.

"If there was definitive proof, then things might turn out differently. A memory from Madam Rosmerta would be chalked up to be unreliable because of the Imperius Curse. At any rate," Dumbledore sighed. "Keeping him close might give us the chance to keep an eye on him."

"So you're saying that we do nothing?" McGonagall asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied.

Harry turned to his two companions; each sharing the same despondent look on their own faces. Sighing, he stood up and knocked on the door.

"Enter," Dumbledore said. Harry opened the door.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall started, seeing her student back again.

"Sir, I forgot to mention something else," Harry said placing the necklace on the desk. "Before I met Dung, I was in The Three Broomsticks. Someone bumped into me and I found this in my pocket shortly afterwards. It's a necklace that was for sale at Borgin & Burke's during the summer. I don't know what it does, but it didn't do anything to me with gloves on. S-Someone nearly touched it with their skin, but I stopped them." Harry had nearly named Su. He didn't want to reveal any names to anyone outside of their group. "Unfortunately I didn't see who it was that slipped it into my pocket. By that time, there were quite a lot of people in the inn," Harry finished.

Dumbledore stared at Harry and then at the necklace. Professor McGonagall kept her eyes on Harry the entire time.

She probably knows that I heard them. Actually, I'm sure they both do.

"It's a good thing you were wearing gloves, Harry," Dumbledore announced after an examination with his wand. "This would've killed you had it touched your skin."

"Killed?" Hermione interrupted. She turned her attention to Harry, the earlier argument momentarily forgotten.

"Yes, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore confirmed, making a few more movements with his wand before pocketing it.

"Sir, if I may speculate further?" Harry asked politely. Dumbledore studied him for a moment before motioning for him to continue. "I don't believe this was meant for me."

"Why do you believe that, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, still on the floor with Madam Rosmerta.

"The person who gave it to me should've seen that I was wearing gloves. Also, that person would've known that only skin contact would get the necklace to work. If it were me, I would've pressed the necklace to my face. I wouldn't have expected that." Harry paused.

"But that makes this situation worse," Harry continued. "Whoever gave it to me either was desperate for it to work, or doesn't care who he or she kills before they get to their target."

"Thank you for showing me this, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said more honestly than he did before. "You may leave unless you have anything else in those pockets you wish to give me?" he finished with his eyes twinkling.

Harry nodded and walked out the door for the second time. Hermione and Neville followed him again. The three of them made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Can I have a word with Hermione alone?" Harry asked. Neville nodded and continued ahead.

"What is it?" Hermione said defensively.

"Sorry, about the fight before," he said sheepishly.

"Me too," Hermione sighed. "I'm finding it hard to trust your word lately… I think this is starting to get worse."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. He didn't what came over him, to lash out at Hermione like he had. "I hope that doesn't last or we find who's behind this soon. We're going to need to trust each other more than ever."

Hermione just nodded, confused as to why her own mind was resisting Harry's logic.

Harry walked silently beside her, trying to figure out what was affecting them if it wasn't a potion. His mind abruptly blanked and he miss-stepped. Hermione sent him an odd look and asked if he was alright.

With a shake of his head, he continued on after Neville, Hermione at his side, suddenly far more chipper.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Unsurprisingly, Malfoy was still at school the following day. He looked a little worse for wear, but he was always looking that way nowadays.

Crabbe, Goyle and Yaxley had been removed from the school grounds. The Dark Mark on Yaxley's left forearm gave him a mandatory sentence of five years in Azkaban, and Crabbe and Goyle had been expelled. Reluctance of the Headmaster to expel students aside, they had participated in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Hermione which was inexcusable, even in Dumbledore's eyes.

Their case would go to trial in the following weeks. For now, they were held in the Ministry, or so Harry had been told.

Once again, Harry had become front page news. The Daily Prophet the following morning had been plastered with an eye catching headline.

'Boy-Who-Lived' More Competent than Ministry?

"At least she hasn't lied," Harry remarked to Hermione, Neville and Katie who were sitting with him at breakfast, placing the paper down and returning to his meal.

"Never a dull moment with you, is there?" Katie winked at him. She was in a far greater mood now that she was back in the castle.

"I was there were," replied Harry, completely ignoring the wink.

"Hiya, Harry." A familiar voice interrupted their conversation. It was Ginny.

"Uh, hi Ginny," Harry said, taken aback. She hadn't said much to him since she 'apologized' after he returned. Ginny shot him a winning smile and sat down next to Katie.

"Whatcha talking about?" she asked, filling her plate with toast, sausages and eggs.

Harry, Neville, Katie and Hermione all shared odd looks. "Nothing in particular," Neville said slowly.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Neville mentioned that Herbology would start soon. Harry, Hermione and Neville bade their farewells. Parvati caught Harry eye for a moment, before resuming a conversation with Ginny.

"I can't believe nothing will happen with Malfoy," Neville exclaimed when they had left the Great Hall. The three walked in time with each other up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower.

"There's no conclusive proof that he was involved," Hermione huffed. "We can't just blame by association."

"Like I said before, Malfoy is always involved in whatever Crabbe and Goyle are," Harry sighed. "He's just smart enough not to let himself get caught as easily as they are."

"So what can we do?" Neville asked the obvious question.

"Wait until he makes a mistake," Harry answered, walking down the steps out into one of the brief moments of sunlight in the increasingly clouded skies. "We'll keep on him, using whatever methods we can think of, until he missteps. It's inevitable. Everyone makes a mistake. We just have to be ready to take advantage of it."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"How did we do, overall, honestly?"

The members of the DA were seated in the Room of Requirement. Harry had asked the question, and was waiting for the response.

"Splendid," Ernie answered first, emphatic even in a single word. "It was a complete success. No injuries on our part, and three captured enemies. What's the problem?"

"Ten on four –" Hermione started seriously, aware of the problem as much as Harry was. "- should not have taken that long, not when two of them were below average fighters and a third under the Imperius."

"Agreed," Padma added; the same went for her. "Our victory should have been far swifter than it was. Yaxley was the only dangerous opponent and he was allowed far too much time to manoeuvre, regardless of the inevitable loss on his part."

"That's what I thought," Harry agreed. He couldn't deny, however, their use of terminology was certainly not his own.

"Hang on," interrupted Neville, raising his hands in a halting gesture. "What you two have just brought up is good and all, but there's no need to start considering that fight a failure because of a mistake."

"No one's saying that, Neville," said Susan admonishingly. "…right?" she added a little less certainty, looking towards Harry hopefully.

"Not at all," Harry responded quickly and reassuringly. "Practice in here is useful, very useful in fact, but there are definitely limitations. For many of you, that was your first ever fight, right?"

Susan, Hannah, Su, Padma and Ernie nodded. Harry, curiosity getting the better of him, looked and noticed that Daphne didn't react to the question and couldn't help but ponder what that meant.

"A real fight for your life is far different from our miniature duels," Hermione summarized. She bit her bottom lip gently and added, "I've the experience to know that for a fact."

Harry sent an apologetic look, not entirely sure how to convey any semblance of apology to her in vocal form for bringing that upon her, and then refocused on the group.

"Look, I'll say this plain and simple," Harry began, eyeing the Slytherin expectantly. "The two groups rounded up Crabbe, Goyle and Rosmerta pretty quickly, right?" The others nodded. "After that, they should have joined the battle with Yaxley, Hermione and me quicker."

Daphne faced him for the first time during this conversation and met his gaze. She cocked a questioning eyebrow and did nothing more. It was a better reaction than he had been expecting.

"We're not going to get this perfect the first time, so let's put it behind us as a useful learning experience and keep practicing."

For the next two hours, they did just that. Scenarios of the battle in the Forbidden Forest were played out to show how the outcome could have been reached earlier. By the end of the day, the general consensus was that the fight had been productive, if in nothing more than teaching the difference between real and practice fights.

On his way out of the Room of Requirement, Harry shuddered out of the blue. He wasn't feeling all that well.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was kept busy in the week coming up to Halloween. Despite having no homework, he spent the time he wound down from the day reading Hermione's notes from class to make sure he knew everything he was supposed to. He, for once, was able to grasp everything in class and, along with Hermione and Padma, was able to perform the class activity quite easily.

The DA was continuing to improve exponentially. The relatively easy victory against the Death Eaters the previous weekend had boosted all of their confidence. Ernie, to everyone's dismay, did end up gloating about how easy the task laying ahead of them looked if that was the best the Death Eaters had. From the combined efforts of Harry, Susan and Hannah, and a not so subtle threat from Daphne, this attitude was quashed very quickly.

None, except Ernie, appeared to hold any illusions as to the difficulty of the task before them. This was one win against two mediocre wizards, a witch under the Imperius and a powerful Death Eater. That was one thing. Fighting the rest of the rest of the Death Eaters would be far harder, as there was small chance that the next attack would be performed without at least a few reasonably skilled attackers.

Like in their regular classes, Harry made the change so that silent spell casting became mandatory. Luna, being the only fifth year involved, struggled. Harry was pushing her and he knew it, but would not have done it if he didn't believe she could manage.

Elsewhere, Harry noticed Parvati looking at him more and more. It unnerved him considerably. Had Padma talked to her? Why was she suddenly staring at him? Another thing he noticed was a growing friendship between her and Ginny. At most mealtimes he saw them sitting together. There was nothing wrong with either of them becoming friends, but he never saw it coming and it further unnerved him, for reasons he could never figure.

Speaking of women in his life, Harry still thought about Fleur quite often before he fell asleep. There had been no contact between either of them since he left nearly a month ago. But what was there to say to a woman who you had kissed for an hour even though she was engaged? Saying 'Hi, how are you?' seemed highly inadequate and, to his dismay, repeatedly left it alone, forcing his mind to think other thoughts.

Sending her messages would probably only complicate matters anyway. What if, like last time, he sent her an owl when Bill was in the same room? If they read it together…

The silverware and the locket that Mundungus stole now resided in a corner of his trunk, shrunken. The locket was an exception. It seemed to be resistant to magic. He tried to open it to no avail, and then, remembering some of the objects that resided in the House of Black during their clean out of the rooms, wisely decided against further experimentation.

Whatever peace of mind Harry had at Hogwarts soon left him however, on the morning after Halloween.

A flurry of owls disturbed the everyday conversations of the Hogwarts populous at breakfast. Dozens of owls, more than usual, flew to various students in each house. Harry had only started paying the owls his full attention when a series of gasps echoed in the Great Hall.

"Hermione?" Harry asked resignedly. He knew something had to be coming. Halloween had been quiet in the castle. The feast was wonderful and Harry enjoyed it to the fullest with Hermione, who had turned down Slughorn's offer for his Halloween party since none of her friends were attending, Neville and Katie, with Ginny dropping in and out of their conversation, and a brief visit from Susan, Hannah and Padma.

With their night uninterrupted, this could only mean something happened with Voldemort last night outside of Hogwarts. Hermione passed him a copy of the Daily Prophet, which only proved that assumption right.

Second Mass Azkaban Breakout in a Year

Harry read the article with increasing despair.

"All of them," Harry said in a quiet voice filled with malice. "Every last one that nearly killed us is back out there."

He couldn't believe it. How could this happen again? Surely after a dozen Death Eaters had been captured and imprisoned since the mass breakout the year before the Ministry would have taken more precautions with their prisoners? What was this new Minister playing at?

Harry risked a glance at Malfoy, who, surprisingly, was not looking back at him, smirking like he was expecting, but looking the same as he had for most of the term - tired and depressed. The shock of not seeing the Slytherin gloating at him wiped away most of the anger, at least temporarily.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. He felt her arm on his shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"Harry, what now?" Katie asked with a not so minor trace of fear in her voice.

'What now?' indeed. Voldemort's most valuable supporters, minus Bellatrix, which he knew of, had been imprisoned until last night. This was a serious blow, with some of Voldemort's best men back out there. Meanwhile, their side continued to lose Aurors and friends and family.

"What can we do except keep practicing?" Harry asked dejectedly. "We're not ready."

This was when it hurt the most, to be sitting on the sidelines and not out there trying to make a difference. It was his responsibility, thanks to prophecy and Voldemort's actions, and to an extent, he'd made his peace with that. Other people had sacrificed their lives for his sake, and now the results of their sacrifice had been undone.

Harry shook his head. He didn't feel that well. His felt his heart beat harder than usual, and he was sweating profusely.

The hell is wrong with me?

For a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Sound drained away, and then his sight disappeared. A myriad of images flashed before his eyes, only to be forgotten seconds later.

And then everything switched back on, like nothing had changed. The entire event had taken seconds.

"It's not like we can do anything else is there?" Harry found himself saying. "We don't know what Malfoy is up to, so we can't put a stop to it yet. For now, we'll keep going as we have."

Hermione gave him an odd look.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Confused, Harry watched Hermione for a moment, before shaking off the entire conversation and finishing his meal.

They'd think of something, soon.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next day during the DA meeting, the same topic was broached by the others members.

"Harry, I respect your stance, but if longer Malfoy has to work on this project the more danger it presents."

"I'm hearing you, Ernie, but unless you can offer some alternatives there's not much we can do."

Ernie's expression grew sour but held his tongue. Harry inwardly sighed. Outwardly, he turned to face the rest of the group who were gathered around him.

"If you've got ideas, I'm willing to hear them." Harry addressed the group. Silence was his response, until Daphne crossed her arms and huffed.

"There's one alternative you seem unwilling to discuss, Potter."

Harry matched her gaze and held his ground. "If you're thinking what I think you are, then yes, I have considered it. However, the consequences to that action right now are too much."

His response was somewhat predictable.

"At some point, you're going to have to start doing what is unpleasant, Potter." Daphne cautioned. Her tone was cold. "Not simply what's within your strict morals."

"What are you two talking about?" interrupted Susan, her expression conveying her displeasure at being left out of the conversation.

"The use of force," said Harry deadpan. "Forcing the information out of Malfoy."

"You can't be seriously considering this, Harry." Hermione scolded, stepping forward and fixing him with a disapproving expression. "Don't drag yourself down to their level."

"I don't like it either, Hermione." Harry said softly, calmly. Internally, he was frustrated at her reticence to accept this. He'd thought they were getting better again, but clearly not. "However, I freely admit that it will become a possible course of action if our other avenues fail to provide us what we need."

"As much as I want to agree with you Hermione, Harry does have a point." Neville said seriously. Hermione sent him a betrayed expression.

"I agree," Padma interceded, who sent an apologetic look to Hermione. Harry was slightly thankful for both Padma's support and consideration towards Hermione. "I don't like the idea of it either, but if we think about it realistically it may need to seriously consider it." Padma shook her head, visibly saddened by what she was saying. "These people... Malfoy doesn't have the same morals and values as we do, Hermione. Whatever he is doing is costing people their health and even lives now. This isn't a schoolyard game anymore."

Hermione looked affronted. She whispered, "It doesn't make it right."

Harry placed his hands on his temples and began rubbing. His glasses fell forward slightly to the bridge of his nose.

"You're right, Hermione," said Harry. He replaced his glasses and looked her in the eye. "It's not right. But it may be necessary. Trust me, I understand you, and I don't like it any better than you do. I'm trying to be realistic here. What else can we do if we come up empty in the future?"

Hermione pursed her lips. She theoretically understood Harry's point, but she was so vehemently opposed to the concept that she could barely withhold the urge to speak her mind.

After several moments, she nodded. That's all she could offer for now.

"Look, if I attack Malfoy, chances are I'd be expelled." Harry said, looking at each of them in turn. "Dumbledore's influence can only cover up so much. Worse yet, there's the possibility of using Veritaserum from Slughorn's reserves. While I don't know much about the legal system, I know enough to know that using Veritaserum without Ministry approval is punishable by Azkaban. I can't risk that."

That seemed to appease most. For the time being at least.

The group separated slowly and resumed their practicing. Harry, still deep in thought, did not notice the satisfied expression of Daphne's face.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Harry, can I have a word?"

It was an hour later and the meeting had drawn to a close. Most of the group had departed, though Hermione, Neville and Su remained. The first two were talking, waiting for Harry, while Su stood alone, waiting for her housemate.

Padma, to Harry's cursory examination, appeared hesitant, almost nervous, but spoke with conviction enough that Harry agreed without question. The pair moved a bit further from the stragglers.

"What did you want to say?" asked Harry once they were alone.

"I'm worried," Padma said simply, staring straight at him. Harry sent her a confused look.

"So am I," he replied uncomprehendingly. This wasn't something she needed to say in private.

"Not about the Death Eaters, Harry, about you." Padma said sharply, crossing her arms.

"Me?"

"No, the other Harry, twit."

"Why?" he asked, ignoring the sarcasm.

"You're not acting normally, Harry," she replied bluntly. Padma let out a sigh and gently uncrossed her arms, placing them on her hips instead. "I think you realize it as well, on some level. You aren't losing control or anything so dramatic, but you're acting differently. I can't describe it exactly, however I am sure something is wrong."

"From what Hermione tells me, you are always cool and collected under pressure, even at the Department of Mysteries." Padma continued after a breath. "Six Hogwarts students, all fifth years or younger against twelve of the best Death Eaters out there and you were still able to formulate a plan in seconds that allowed you lot to escape. Albeit, not the best plan, but you survived. That's far more than any normal person can expect."

"Hermione talks to you a lot," Harry remarked. Padma shrugged absently.

"We sit together in Ancient Ruins and Arithmancy now and work together on projects. That leaves us plenty of time to chat. That's not the point." Padma crossed her arms. "I know something is up, and I believe you're aware of it. Hermione, too. If you don't want me involved, I understand. However, I believe you should know that it is beginning to show."

Harry marvelled are her observation skills. She hadn't known him all that long and already she noticed changes? However...

"You haven't known me very long." Harry said aloud. "How do you know I'm acting weirdly?"

"Hermione has told me a lot about you, voluntarily and through answers to my own questions. I wanted to know exactly who I was dealing with after I joined."

"Did you find your answer?" asked Harry, more than a little surprised at how thoroughly Padma went through everything. To him, it seemed far too much of a hassle despite understanding the reasoning.

"Some answers," answered Padma, shrugging a second time. "I want personal experience to formulate any solid theories. But, again, that's not the point." She faced the remainder of the DA. Su kept glancing their way, as if she wanted to join them. Harry caught her eye and jerked his head in a 'come here' motion.

"Hermione understands as well," Padma said quietly. "About you acting oddly and about Malfoy. I'm sure she noticed the change before I did, she knows you so well. The rest of us... Investing ourselves in this army of yours... The task seems monumentally harder with all the Death Eaters on the loose. You aren't the only one."

"Both you and Hermione have hinted at something tying your future to Voldemort, that you have no choice," Padma said calmly, as Su stood up and made her way over to them. "The Hall of Prophecies is where the Death Eaters caught you, is it not?"

Harry faced her with an impassive expression, not giving an answer to a question she already knew.

"Logic leads me to the conclusion that there is a prophecy about you and a certain Dark Lord," Padma revealed, their eyes meeting again. Harry didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She found out on her own.

"This is why you started this, isn't it? You want help. I completely understand why you weren't forthright with the full truth, this is dangerous information."

"I warned you as best I could without outright saying it," Harry mumbled, casting his eyes downwards.

"You did," Su spoke for the first time in this conversation. Her voice was soft, calm. This time she didn't shy away. Perhaps it was because there was only Padma, the one person who she seemed to trust implicitly, and Harry himself.

"Look, I'll be blunt again," Padma said impatiently, tossing her hair aside. "You have, and have had, pressure mounted on you. Something like this new breakout would only create an amount of pressure that normal people can only discover in nightmares. All those Death Eaters escaping … as you said, undoes everything you've accomplished in the last six months. It's not fair. It's not right. It shouldn't have happened. It did, Harry, it did."

Harry sighed, facing the ground, eyes closed.

"I know. I know. It's not easy, though. All that effort." Harry looked up and blinked a few times. "Losing Sirius. And now they're all free. Who's to say if more Death Eaters are captured the Ministry will do a better job of keeping them prisoner?"

"We don't," Su said.

"Great. Terrific. Bloody brilliant, even."

"Feel any better?" asked Padma with a small trace of amusement at his response.

"Not really," Harry replied honestly. "But…" He took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I'm a bit calmer than I was." He spun and leaned against the wall with his back. "Thanks." He looked up at Hermione and Neville, who were now patiently waiting for him to return.

"Look, on what you were saying earlier," began Harry. He hesitated a moment. "I need to speak to Hermione first. We'll let you know, okay?"

"Okay." Padma replied. She appeared satisfied with the response.

"Thanks," Harry said softly. "For the honesty."

He received a smile in return.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"She's sharp." Harry said wryly.

"There's a reason she's second in the year, Harry." Hermione replied. Harry noted a bit of pride in her tone. Whether it was because she was considered first or whether at her successful choice of persons to help, Harry couldn't tell. He suspected it was both.

The two were in his dormitory. Ron, Dean and Seamus were downstairs doing who knew what. Neville had left for Library upon their arrival, sensing their need to talk alone.

Harry was restlessly pacing. "But now that she's noticed that this is affecting me, we can't continue to do this, Hermione," he insisted. "Waiting isn't working."

He didn't understand why, but he was incredibly frustrated at Hermione. Frustration might even be putting it mildly.

"I agree." Hermione said, startling Harry into ceasing his pacing.

"Excuse me?"

"The potion or whatever else it is..." Hermione said nervously. "You-we haven't been particularly civil with each other lately. This... this thing that's affecting us is winning, isn't it?"

"What do you mean, Hermione?" asked Harry confusedly. Hermione looked at him strangely.

"I don't understand, Harry." Hermione said slowly. "We were just talking about it..."

"About what?"

Hermione stared back at Harry, as if he was joking. It was a poor joke, and in very bad taste. How could he joke about something this serious?

He wouldn't, Hermione knew. That meant something else. She began to worry.

"Have you forgotten what we talked about when you came for me after Ron destroyed this room?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

Harry's eyes glazed over as he remembered the night. "Love potions and spells?"

"That's right!" Hermione replied enthusiastically. Harry turned back to Hermione and smiled. Hermione looked back at him, watching his eyes. For a second, there was a flash of color in his eyes. It was so quick that Hermione thought it was just a trick of the light. What convinced her it had been something magical was what he said next.

"What were we talking about?" he asked.

She was about to get angry at him, to speak her mind, when she realized what had happened. Whatever it was that was influencing him was distracting his mind whenever he thought about someone casting spells on him, forcing it to think other thoughts.

This isn't good… Hermione thought seriously. But… it looks like this thing is getting stronger and that can help me determine who is controlling him.

Sighing, anxious, Hermione realized she was going to have to play her best friend. She'd have to watch him closely, see who he interacted with in the near future, and find out if anyone new was making friends with him. If there weren't any, that meant someone she knew was the culprit.

It didn't even cross her mind to ask for help.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning, Harry received a letter he had been anticipating for some times.

It's ready.

I'll be there Saturday week at eight a.m., in the Room.

F.

The letter brought a large array of emotions to the forefront of his mind again. He never did get around to sending her any letters, for the same reasons over and over. What had happened to her in the past few weeks? Had she forgotten about it all and moved on with Bill?

Diverting his concentration away from that line of depressing thinking, he refocused on the important aspect of the letter.

The pensieve was ready at last.

This was a huge step. Everyone would be brought completely into the fold, prophecy and all. And it would happen soon.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The news of the pensieve and the excited that brought wore off within a few days. Few offers at solutions to any of Harry's problems revealed themselves.

After his latest lesson with Dumbledore, Harry had been assigned homework, the first for his sixth year. The task was to acquire a memory from Slughorn. The task proved to be difficult. It wasn't an unexpected development – if it were simple, Dumbledore would have accomplished it on his own.

The primary question on Harry's mind, however, was what exactly a Horcrux was. That was his homework. Getting the director's cut of Slughorn's memory of a conversation about Horcruxes with Tom Riddle.

Going directly to ask him wouldn't work, otherwise Dumbledore could've done it already. Why the Professor didn't use Legilimancy, ethics aside, was a mystery. That was, unless Slughorn was a master Occlumens, which Harry felt was unlikely. Ultimately, that left Harry with one thought.

Dumbledore wanted Harry and Harry alone to get it to prepare him for the war ahead. 'How' that worked was a matter he didn't bother considering.

Harry filled Hermione in on the two memories he had witnessed alongside Dumbledore. Hermione agreed that asking him straightforwardly was doomed to failure. This would require finesse.

Either that or a lot of Firewhiskey.

There was something else Harry had learned from the two memories that was of importance to himself and Hermione. She had mentioned that her dream clouded over constantly. Slughorn's memory had clouded over as well.

Hermione had already figured out that that meant the memory had been tampered with. It wasn't new news, but it was confirmation. It still hurt, for both had been holding onto what lingering hope there was over the Weasley family being innocent. Now it was looking worse and worse for them.

The dreams she was getting were now beginning to give her headaches. More than once in the week before and following the last DA meeting she was spotted clutching her head in pain, as though trying to hide it.

Harry gathered the smartest of the DA and asked for help with the task of getting Slughorn's memory. After all, he had made this DA for this purpose. To help.

A half hour of back and forth debate only offered Harry the conclusion he already knew. He would need to get close to Slughorn and hope to God he could find a moment where the overweight Professor would be more willing to share a memory he was going to great lengths to keep secret and push for it.

The silver lining to that weekend was the first Quidditch match of the season. As always, it was Gryffindor verses Slytherin, and as always, the match was fast and brutal.

The Slytherins played rough and borderline dirty. Unfortunately for the green house, the Chasers for Gryffindor were up to the task. The lack of Malfoy as Seeker provided Harry no real opponent and only aided their cause. Harper, the replacement, followed Harry around the pitch, searching for the Snitch, but mostly focusing on his opponent and desperately attempting to interfere in any play. Only luck had saved the Slytherins from losing within the first half hour of the match, as Harry had nearly caught it several times already, only to find it disappearing just as it was in reach.

Finally, with a broken right hand to serve as a badge of honor, Harry found the solution just before the match hit the hour mark.

He landed ungracefully in the Hufflepuff stands, which happened to be the ones in front of him as he caught the Snitch with his outstretched uninjured arm. For a moment, there was complete silence while Harry righted his footing. It was uncanny how quiet it was considering the hundreds of people in this single one hundred square meters. Then someone flipped back on the noise switch.

Hundreds upon hundreds of cheers erupted from three quarters of the stadium. Harry turned on the spot and saw five red and gold blurs closing in on him at full speed, with a sixth right behind them. Two seconds later, Harry was gang tackled by three ecstatic Chasers and two equally joyous Beaters.

For the next minute, Harry couldn't tell if up was down or left was right. For all he knew left was up and right was down…if that made sense at all he wouldn't have been surprised. A voice was screaming in his right ear, which he recognized as Demelza's, but the words were lost in translation as she wasn't the only one.

Slowly, bodies were removed from the pile on top of Harry. He was very lucky to have been knocked down on a landing and not a set of stairs, for that would have been incredibly painful. He was also very lucky that his broken right hand had managed to escape the enthusiastic onslaught from his teammates.

Harry got up unsteadily, still slightly dazed from the entire match, his hand and the subsequent assault. He was instantly hugged by Katie, Demelza and then Ginny, whom he was inexplicably disappointed to lose when she left. Coote and Peakes eagerly slapped him on his back and congratulated him on his first victory as Captain. Behind the two of them however, was where his attention found itself focused.

Ron was standing there, smiling uncomfortably. There was a long awkward moment between them, a stark contrast to the still celebrating crowd beside them. The only ones that seemed to notice the non-celebrating Harry and Ron were their teammates, who were standing far enough way to hear, but not impede, which was quite an achievement, considering the crowd volume.

There was no easy atmosphere between them anymore, not like there had been ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express. Different choices, different mistakes had drawn them apart, Ron's mistake being a far larger one for their friendship than any of Harry's.

"Why the long faces people, we just won and won big!" Katie's enthusiastic voice interrupted the moment. Harry glared at the older girl for a moment. Over the roaring of the crowd, he could've sworn he heard Ron mutter the word 'mental'.

Despite himself, Harry grinned. Ron saw it and sheepishly returned it.

Mentally sighing, letting himself get caught up in the moment, Harry offered his left, uninjured, hand. Ron hesitated, looking between the hand and his former friend's face. In the end, he shrugged and grasped it. A quick shake and an uncomfortable retreat later, the two of them were interrupted by the rest of their team parading around the Hufflepuff stand enjoying the tumultuous applause.

In the undeniable euphoria of such a glorious win over their most hated rivals, the former best friends managed to push their unsolved problems with each other apart from their celebrations. They would stand side by side, uncommunicative to one another, but on the same team.

It was one of the magics of sport that Muggles could experience too. How sport was able to bring people together, even with their differences, if only for one afternoon. That was the magic of Quidditch, something Hermione did not understand. But nor had Harry until he had played.

"Brilliant flying, Harry!" Neville called to him as soon as he was spotted exiting the change rooms. Harry grinned and waved, left handed of course, walking over to the five. Hermione hugged him carefully as soon as he was within reach.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Harry," she said to him. "I was so worried."

"You aren't the only one," Padma said wryly. Hermione blushed and let Harry go. Her spot was replaced with Padma before Harry knew what was happening. He had to admit, it wasn't an unpleasant situation.

Demelza popped up beside him a moment later.

"Great match, eh, Harry?" she said smiling up at him. Coote and Peakes joined them and Katie, Ginny and Ron another moment later.

Ginny gave him a one armed hug, which Harry reciprocated immediately. Over Ginny's shoulder, he noticed Hermione eyeing them. What was that about?

The hug ended and, as if it were planned, a quiet came over the group. All eyes turned to Harry, making him slightly uncomfortable, but he had expected it.

"Congratulations everyone," Harry said to the Quidditch team. "I knew you all had it in you." A short pause followed.

"Not your best speech, but good enough, Captain," Katie grinned at him. He grinned back. He was not one for speeches anyway.

"Better than Wood's two or three hour lectures on manoeuvres," Harry reminded the only other member of his original Gryffindor team. "Those just went on and on…"

"And on and on and on…" Katie continued for him.

"And on and on and on…" Harry and Katie continued simultaneously.

"We get it," Susan and Hannah interrupted the two Gryffindors. Harry and Katie only laughed.

The seven Quidditch players and five spectators turned and started walking back to the castle. An in-depth discussion of the game was underway within seconds. Even Hermione, the biggest anti-Quidditch person in the school, joined in with a few of her own points and favourite moments.

The grounds were now nearly empty; few students remained in the vicinity of the Quidditch pitch. A dozen or so students were a ways ahead of them, heading back to the castle, and some others heading towards the lake to enjoy the afternoon.

The peace was not to last however.

Harry was laughing at Padma's excellent description of one of the failed attempts of the Slytherin Chasers shots on goal, which Ron was conspicuously pleased to hear, when he looked up and saw the entire Slytherin Qudditch team ahead of him. With them were a few others in the same house, Seventh years and below.

"Here we go," Harry muttered resignedly to himself. Susan, Hannah and Hermione heard him and looked up and saw the same sight. One by one, the group stopped. Roughly fifteen meters separated the two groups. No wands were drawn, but one could not mistake the immediate tenseness in the atmosphere.

The captain of the Slytherin team took a step forward from his teammates. His name was Urquhart if Harry remembered correctly.

"Can I help you?" Harry said while taking a step forward from his group. His voice was neither peaceful nor threatening.

"You owe us a broom, Potter." Urquhart stated boldly, showing more confidence than Harry was certain he had. There was no Malfoy as the ring leader in sight. He was always the foreman for these challenges. It was truly pathetic to see the Slytherins' attempt to antagonize him without their beloved leader.

"How does that work out?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. He turned to look at Katie and Hermione on his right and shot them a questioning look. It may have been unwise to turn his back to the entire Slytherin Quidditch team after thrashing them but he was confident in the abilities of his DA members if not his fellow teammates. Any curse wouldn't get through and would be returned in much better quality and larger quantity.

"When you weaved in and out of the Slytherin Chasers that time, Harper tried to follow and crashed into two of them." Katie explained. Harry turned back to Harper and saw his broom in two pieces in his hands. That explained the crunch and yells he had heard. He unsuccessfully stifled a laugh at the mental image of the crash.

"I fail to see how this means I owe you a broom," Harry replied in the same voice he had greeted them with after he composed himself. "You're the one who failed to follow my lead."

The Slytherins exchanged looks with one another.

"If that's all, I'd like to return to the castle now." Harry continued. "Injuries, you know," he added, pointing to his right hand. Had this been outside of Hogwarts, pointing out a weakness would have been a big mistake, but, atmosphere aside; there was no real chance of a duel breaking out.

Two of the Slytherins made moves to leave, but were stopped by the joint glares from the others. It seemed the decision to confront Harry wasn't unanimous.

Harry shifted his weight to his left foot and began tapping his right foot into the ground. He watched all seven Slytherins glance at his foot and then back at him.

They're nervous…so why are they really here? Harry pondered. They couldn't honestly expect me to pay for a broom I didn't even break.

"This is a warning, Potter," One of the Slytherins Harry had not met before jeered. "Stay away from Malfoy and you won't be bothered by us."

"Excuse me?" said a surprised Harry, raising an eyebrow. When, if ever, would Slytherins actually act as subtle as they were rumoured to be? If anyone was, it would be Daphne, and she wasn't even on these idiots' side.

"You heard 'em, Potter. Steer clear and nothing bad'll happen," another added. Harry couldn't see where the voice had come from, the person hidden between numerous others.

Coward, Harry thought distastefully.

"Whatever Malfoy is up to is of concern to us," Hermione responded in a haughty voice she reserved for people such as these, stepping up from behind Harry. "Voldemort –" a serious of predictable gasps emanated from both sides of the confrontation. They were ignored. "- has seen fit to entrust a task to him, and excuse me for believing it isn't in the best interest of student safety."

"Keep quiet, mudbl –"

"- Oh, I would recommend you keep that sentence unfinished, if you know what's good for you," Harry threatened, uninjured hand reaching for his robes and, incidentally, his wand.

Whispers broke out amongst a small group of the Slytherins. Harry maintained his tense state, waiting for a movement to give him an excuse to draw his wand. The rest behind him were either in a similar state of mind or, in particular those not in Harry's group, watching the proceedings with no subtlety masking their confusion.

The Slytherin captain scowled darkly in Harry's general direction. Harry couldn't help but wonder at their purpose. There was no real cohesion to their actions. They were divided and had no intimidating presence beyond numbers. Whatever their purpose, it wasn't to put him off, despite their words.

"We done, then?" questioned Neville.

There was a long moment of tense silence where nobody really made any move to do anything.

"Right," Harry said, breaking it. "Let's go everyone."

Not waiting for a response, Harry starting walking directly at the Slytherins. He didn't even pay any attention to their reactions. They were a pest, nothing more.

One by one Harry's group started following him.

Harry stopped when he was level with Urquhart. He didn't look at him though the other captain was looking directly at him.

"I don't know for what reason you did this," Harry said quietly, but loud enough for every one of them students to hear. "But it isn't too late to choose your side. If you follow Malfoy, you'll lose, simple as that. I just hope you realize that before you've all gotten yourselves killed."

"Is that a threat?" one of them inquired, outraged. A number of them made moves to reach for their wands before the captain put his hands up and halted the movement.

"No," Neville answered immediately, stepping forward.

"It's truth," proclaimed Susan condescendingly, stepping up beside Neville.

Harry started walking again and made it to the castle unhindered. He waited for the rest to catch up to him, as they had warily waited moments longer than he in case of a sneak attack. He received a few peculiar looks, particularly from Ron, Coote and Peakes, and a few genuine smiles, particularly from Hermione, Susan, Hannah, Padma and Neville.

"Come on," Katie said cheerfully, the entire event forgotten to her already. "We've got a party to attend."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Madame Pomfrey expressed her disapproval at his injury in a variety of manners. Most obvious, however, was verbal. It took half an hour until she was satisfied he'd been lectured enough. The injury had taken five minutes to repair.

Harry endured the lecture relatively good-naturedly. The matron had taken care of him on enough occasions to earn a little leniency. However, it did mean he was now really late for the Gryffindor celebratory party. He'd told the team and his friends to go on ahead, though only after his insistence did Padma and then Hermione comply.

Walking quickly out of the Hospital Wing, Harry turned a corner and collided with something. Judging from the 'oomph' sound it was a someone.

"Oh – I'm sorry," Harry said immediately, quickly reaching out to steady the person he had collided with. Unfortunately, through reflex, he had used his stronger arm, his right arm. He gasped with the sudden pain from the movement and task of steadying a human and let go instinctively.

A soft thud sounded in the hallway as the other person hit the stone floor. Harry, grasping his right hand, looked up to see a young woman on the floor before him.

"Sorry," Harry repeated. He gestured with his right hand. "Broken hand."

"T-that's alright," replied the young woman. She was short-ish, had light brown hair and brown eyes. She stood shakily, and then brushed herself off.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm fine. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I wasn't either," Harry offered, trying to alleviate the poor girl's guilty feelings. The young woman looked curiously at him for a moment then apologized again and walked past him. Harry stepped aside and let her through, watching her go.

Strange. He recognised her, vaguely. Megan Jones, Harry thought her name was. After a moment's contemplation, however, he pushed the encounter from his mind and continued his trek to the Gryffindor tower. Soon enough he arrived outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, only to find someone waiting for him.

Someone beautiful. Short and slim, with long red hair.

Ginny.

His heart fluttered.

It took him several moments to recover his wits, and several more to realise the abnormality of that reaction. Where had that come from?

"Hi Harry," said Ginny, beaming at him. "You did amazing out there. I wanted to congratulate you again."

"Thank you," he replied automatically. He felt inordinately pleased by her praise.

Ginny stepped forward and hugged him tightly. It was much better than the one he had received in front of everyone an hour ago.

"You're a great Captain."

The hug continued for a moment longer than was generally considered comfortable from friends, but Harry didn't mind. In fact, he was saddened when she finally released him.

"Come on then. Let's join the party!" Ginny said brightly. He followed her into the common room, to the cheers and praise of her housemates.

Thoughts of how strange this was mysteriously vanished.

-x-x-x-x-x-

At eight on Saturday, the DA was seated around a table, awaiting the imminent arrival of the pensieve.

And Fleur. Harry reminded himself.

His emotions were a mess. What could he say to her after what they'd shared during his stay in France? Were she and Bill even together still? Her letters had been direct and succinct. To be fair, he had not said anything to her either. Like now, he had no idea what to say. They weren't together, but they weren't simply friends anymore.

Time had begun to dull the memory of her, of that night but also her in general. With so much else to remember, it wasn't a surprise. However, Harry still vividly recalled the happiness he had felt while he stayed with her.

And yet, because Fleur was engaged, he had a sinking feeling that this day would end poorly.

"She's late." Ernie noted.

Harry checked the time with Padma's watch. It was a few minutes past. Harry felt an irrational urge to snap at Ernie. She could take as long as she needed. Instead, he refocused his attentions to the people before him.

It would difficult reliving his past. He had to go in with the rest of the students to be their tour guide, to explain things as they happened so everyone understood. Each of them had to understand exactly what life would be like, at least as far as Harry could show, if they chose to follow him. It was important that there would be no misconceptions. Harry only wanted to do it once, so he had to do it right.

Trust was important, and he trusted all the DA members now, at least to some extent. Over the past two and a half months he had become friends of different degrees to each of them. After today, he would release them from their oaths if they chose to stand by him. Today he would explain exactly what he wanted.

There was a knock at the door.

Ten out of eleven in the room turned to the door. Daphne was the only one uninterested.

Harry stood up and slowly walked to the door. It seemed to take an age, but he was there before he knew it.

Hand grasping the knob, he took a deep breath, and opened it.

Nothing.

Confused, Harry took a step forward and looked down the corridor to see if there was anyone there. There wasn't.

"I'm under a cloak," whispered Fleur, her voice close. His heart skipped a beat.

Understanding her, he stepped back inside and held the door open as Fleur stepped inside and removed an Invisibility Cloak. She knew, Harry thought, how to make an entrance.

She looked as gorgeous as ever, perhaps even more so, though Harry might have been the only one in the room to think so. A simple halter top and a pair of jeans were all she wore, but she wore it as if it were second skin.

It took a moment to notice it, but in her hands was a large package. Harry stepped forward and grabbed it off her. His fingers brushed against hers in the process, and Harry nearly dropped the pensieve.

I'm acting like an idiot.

Harry led Fleur to the table and set down the pensieve. While Fleur was welcomed by the group with varying degrees of warmness, Harry unwrapped the pensieve and set on the table.

The newly crafted pensieve was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. Fleur had spared no expensive in providing the best. Thankfully, Harry's wealth meant it made only a little dent in his funds.

Retaking his seat and focusing on the task at hand, setting aside his thoughts of Fleur for later, Harry examined the faces around the table. They ranged from apprehensive, to stoic, to anxious, to simple curiosity. This was a big moment, the biggest moment yet this year. They'd been waiting for this for weeks, and it was finally here.

"Are we ready?" asked Harry, carefully watching the group. "This is an advisable time to drop out if you have any fears about where we are headed. Once we've viewed these memories, nothing will be the same. You'll understand that we are up against immense odds. I have no delusions about that. I'm trying to ensure you understand what you're in for."

Nobody spoke for a moment, but one by one they expressed their assent.

"Okay." Harry said. "Then let's begin."

-x-x-x-x-x-

After dinner, which Dobby provided in the Room of Requirement, the DA one by one departed. The day had brought many revelations for the majority of the room. The memories answered so many questions and unveiled the truth beyond dozens of rumours surrounding Harry and his adventures. More than that, the experiences that Harry had had in his time at Hogwarts were shown as exciting, yes, alarming, and ultimately dangerous. Everyone had become far more aware of the dangers awaiting them, and for some, it shook them deeply. The memories questioned many beliefs, and inspired some upon seeing Harry's strength and resilience. They accomplished exactly what Harry had said.

Nothing would be the same from here on out.

All had been affected in some fashion, and it showed. Harry himself felt the exhaustion he could see in other people. It had been draining watching his memories, reliving some of his worst moments. However, reviewing the memory of the Department of Mysteries provided some final closure about Sirius's death. He would've done the same thing had he the same information as he did that night. There was nothing he could've done.

Harry had watched all of them while the memories were being played. He had literally been there and done that. There was little to garner from the experiences that he had not his first time around, but he dived into the memories regardless to answer questions and narrate the in-between moments.

Hermione had remained suspiciously quiet throughout the day, or at least quiet in his direction. She had participated in the debates after each memory about what they meant and the meaning behind what certain people had said. A few ideas had cropped up, most particularly insights into Voldemort's thinking. Harry was beginning to believe he understood how Voldemort thought sometimes. It was a disturbing thought.

Daphne's response had been the most neutral. That wasn't to say she hadn't expressed interest. In fact, she was perhaps the one with the most questions. The initial scorn at the concept of 'love' being the power-he-knows-not by the majority of the group quickly turned into a debate about the possibilities, led by Daphne, of all people.

Right before his conflict with Quirrel, Harry had been hugged by Hermione, which was the first true hug he could remember. Against the Basilisk, his love for the Weasley's had been present. His love of Sirius, the idea of him and what he presented – a connection to his parents, and a way to escape the Dursley's – could've been a factor in his successful Patronus, which was much stronger than most. His parents were a factor in the graveyard. Sirius, again, drove him at the Department of Mysteries. Harry had experienced or thought of some kind of love during his major encounters. Perhaps that was it, after all?

However, that line of theory quickly hit a brick wall. He had no way to harness that. He couldn't stand there and think of love, a concept he barely grasped and knew, while fighting Voldemort. He'd been dead before he knew it. The topic was abandoned, though not forgotten.

Padma was supportive the entire time. She reeled her own shock and fear, and focused directly on absorbing every possible detail. If anyone were to miss nothing, it was her.

The day was a reality shock for most of the remainder of the group. Ernie and Katie often looked ill and afraid, and Harry began to worry more about them. Were they up to this? They appeared to be the most reluctant people there by the end of Harry's second year. An eye would need to be kept on them. Not everyone was cut out for this, after all, and Harry would be lying if he said he was surprised to see someone having second thoughts.

Having known a lot of the stories second hand already, and having participated in the last years' raid on the Department of Mysteries, Neville coped well. More than once he conveyed his determination to stand by him. The sight of Bellatrix had nearly caused a scene, but he mastered himself. Harry was grateful for the support from someone who was rapidly becoming a closer friend.

Who surprised Harry the most, however, was Su. She stood beside him for a lot of the day, and even held his hand a few times, particularly during the later memories. She squeezed his hand during some intense moments, and he responded in kind. A sort of small companionship emerged in those moments.

Luna was... well, she was Luna. Her constant wide-eyed expression belied the real reactions; however, she remained quiet the entire day except to offer her continued support, and a hug, at the end. Finally, Susan and Hannah often had the greatest reactions. The first sight of Voldemort, in his spirit form in Harry's first year, elicited a muffled scream. They held each other comfort when Harry nearly died, nearly lost Sirius and when he actually did. They readily offered their sympathy for the rough time Harry had had. He accepted it awkwardly, unused to it.

Harry understood that there was an immense amount of information to take in today, and told everyone to take the time to think. Now that they knew more what life was like, what they were getting into and what Harry wanted, decisions had to be made. These decisions needed to be made properly, and not on the spur of the moment.

But there was one other person left, who had been largely impossible to read, sans some moments of sympathy. Fleur.

Fleur was lying down on a burgundy chair that resembled one you would find in a therapist's office. Harry could only fathom what was going on in her mind.

The blonde was rubbing her temples, trying desperately to digest all she had learned this day. As Harry had thought, her opinions on various matters were certainly changing. Most especially were the Order of the Phoenix and the British Ministry of Magic. The former had kept Harry in the dark for so long, and according to Harry, never lifted a finger to help him over the summers he had to endure with the Dursleys. The latter simply failed to be fair, just and abide by their own laws, at the very least in the Fudge government. Scrimgeour was still too new to tell.

"I don't know 'ow you do it," Fleur sighed tiredly. Harry glanced at her questioningly.

"Continue onwards, zat is," the woman elaborated further in response to Harry's unspoken question.

Harry sat down on a couch a few meters to her right and faced her. "I have to," he replied. "You heard that prophecy. I have to persevere."

Fleur shook her head while still lying down, eyes closed. "Before zat," she elaborated. "Zat is only an explanation for why you continue now."

For a long moment he was silent.

"I think I knew it somewhere deep down." Harry replied quietly. "That it would come to something like this, that it wouldn't end unless I put a stop to it. Voldemort started it, now I have to end it."

There wasn't a response. Tension filled the air. This conversation had been coming for some time, ever since Harry had left France. Try as they could to stall it, today was the day it was all going to come out.

It was Fleur that broke the silence.

"'Arry, I'm so sorry for using you like zat," Fleur said, sitting up and looking at the forever younger man before her. Harry met her gaze, his confusion evident in his expression.

"For using me?" Harry repeated blankly. That wasn't quite what he was expecting when he had pictured this conversation, over and over and over again.

"Oui," replied Fleur dejectedly. "I 'ave been 'aving doubts about Bill and myself over ze last several months."

"Doubts?"

Fleur shook her head solemnly. "Bill is a wonderful man. 'owever, I am uncertain he iz ze one. These doubts manifested zemselves the strongest zey had been when you were staying wiz me. I did not intend to lead you on or anyzing."

Harry's heart sank. On one level, Harry was not remotely surprised at the rejection he was hearing. He and Fleur had only been together in his most unrealistic fantasies which were just that: unrealistic. But on another level, he hadn't accepted this turn of events. He was backpedalling, trying to grasp reasons why. He was in over his head.

More than once Harry opened his mouth to protest, to say something, anything to understand her. Her blue eyes, once so filled with happiness, contentment and mischievousness, were now staring at him coldly, cruelly, as if mocking him for holding any hope that he would be put first.

Irrationality rose within him like a beast, a mixture of anger at her rejection and self-pity, for the same reason he believed her to be mocking him. Self control started to slip.

Seconds passed, but this time Harry resisted saying anything he knew he'd regret later. Arguing like a jealous, selfish boy would only push home the point that he was just that, a boy. He was too young, too skinny, and too different from Bill to be of any real contention or competition for Fleur's attentions or affections.

A powerful wave of displeasure rose within him. Bill became the focus of the new myriad of emotion.

But then it stopped, and Harry calmed. He would handle this maturely with Fleur. He would not break down, cry and beg desperate pleas for a second chance. He would not swear revenge against Bill and become a being of hatred.

Harry would honour his promise to himself as much as he could. Fleur had made her choice; he had to accept it. That would be the mature thing to do… right?

"I don't think you led me on, Fleur," Harry replied sincerely, yet unable to maintain eye contact with her any longer. "And it's okay. I know you love Bill Weasley. I expected as much from this."

He leaned back into his chair a bit and looked to the ceiling, nudging his glasses to the side and rubbing his eyes. To his shame, there was wetness there that he had not noticed. It might not have hit his mind yet how much this hurt, the rejection, no matter how rationality tried to console him.

"I contemplated writing often since I left," said Harry. "But what could I have said? Asking how you were seemed inadequate."

Fleur could only smile wistfully at that remark. "I thought ze same zing." She grew a bit more solemn. "I honestly wasn't looking forward to today, regardless of what I 'ad said when you left. Zis conversation was somezing I doubt I would ever be ready for."

Nor me it seems…

"So where are we now?" Harry asked with trepidation. Now that he and Fleur had spent time together, he had come to enjoy her presence, platonically or otherwise. She was intelligent, graceful, eloquent, yet occasionally mischievous. There was a definite superiority complex, perhaps inevitable as a Veela, and a matching attitude would meet those she felt inferior to her. However, she had readily changed her treatment and opinion of him after he had proven to be not just a boy.

Even if they had no kissed… felt her against him, he still would have, and in fact did, greatly enjoyed his time in France. Yet, despite all that rationale, it still hurt, and hurt badly.

Fleur was wondering similar things.

The last few weeks had been challenging. After Harry had left, Fleur had retreated to her room and laid there for hours, contemplating what the last three days had brought. Her entire future was now in question, and yet only part of her regretted her actions.

She wondered what to tell Bill, or whether to never speak of it to him at all. But no, she had decided that she could not do that to him. Bill was a strong, commanding man. He had confidence in himself and in his abilities. She cared for him. At least that fact was undeniable.

But was it enough?

In the face of the first real temptation, she had failed to resist. She hadn't wanted to, at the time. But her guilt had continued to eat away at her. She had reached no conclusions that evening.

The following day she had woken up just as confused as he had the previous morning. After a rather long shower, where she tried to wash away her problems, she had gone into Gringotts, apologized for having two unexpected days off, which her supervisor had, thankfully, accepted without preamble. The Goblin was fully aware of the attack outside the premises and did not think any less for Fleur skipping two days of work as long as she caught back up.

Bill was a little less forgiving. He had been worried; understandably very worried when she hadn't turned up on either Monday or Tuesday without an owl or any other warning. Apparently he had tried to send an owl to visit her on Sunday afternoon, after returning from an out of town conference. Fleur had never received the message, and Bill was hesitant to believe her.

Her doubts piled up over the next day, and she finally decided on a course of action: none. She couldn't tell Bill, not yet, not until she was surer of herself in these matters. How could she honestly answer any questions about her relationship with Harry when she knew not the answers herself?

The following fortnight had been rocky. Bill was distant, and Fleur had been increasingly so in response. However, almost when Fleur was beginning to believe they would not recover, Bill had then surprised her with a night out. Dinner was at an expensive restaurant in London. He had expressed his apologies for not respecting her privacy and his desire to rectify their relationship.

Her guilt magnified that evening, but she couldn't bring herself to hurt Bill that night, not while he was so positive and cheerful. The night had ended with a walk along the Thames, and their conversation had been light and enjoyable. It had been a wonderful night.

That night was largely responsible for her decision here. Bill, she loved. She knew he loved her. She couldn't let that die simply because of a few doubts. Not until she'd given it a real shot and knew for certain that there was no way they could work.

Fleur had yet to speak to Bill about Harry. She knew it had to be soon. However, her courage faltered every time she prepared herself to speak to him. More than once her frustration – at herself, at Bill, at Harry, and at their situation – boiled over and Fleur was nearly brought to tears, but she mastered herself in time. She wasn't a child anymore. This was her problem, of her own making, and she would deal with it like an adult.

"We're friends, 'Arry," Fleur answered honestly, and a little wistfully, though neither registered that in her voice. "That's all."

Harry's stomach seemed to drop. Even though he had expected it, had no reasonable expectations otherwise, it was still a shock, a disappointment, to hear that finality, that there was nothing more to it than friendship. For a split second, he felt himself frown. He quickly smiled, albeit a bit forced, to cover it up. "I hope you and Bill have a wonderful life together. God knows there needs to be more happiness in the world."

He wasn't sure whether Fleur noticed or not. He hoped she hadn't. The woman before him had enough to deal with without feeling sorry for disappointing him.

His promise to go along with whatever choice Fleur made came into effect. He sincerely wished them luck. They deserved to be happy. Happiness was rare in the wizarding world at present. Even a small amount more love could bring hope to others. Perhaps one day, even he would experience it firsthand. But no, not yet, not today, not for him.

Fleur didn't answer. Her heart went out to Harry, but she ignored it as best she could. It wasn't easy. She'd promised herself not to hurt him, to help give him happy memories, and now she'd hurt him more than probably anymore else had.

Fleur nodded slightly. "I should be going," she announced. "I 'ave … zings to do …"

In truth, she had to put distance between herself and Harry. The next time they saw each other, maybe then the two of them would be able to have the same level as comfort, of closeness as they had before the end of his stay in France. For now, it was too hard to be in the same room, let alone being in a room without anyone else around. She had only survived the day to this point by focusing on what she was learning and searching for someone else to take her spot in Harry's heart. There was no such luxury anymore.

"Of course," Harry replied immediately. He stood stiffly and, in the same manner, offered his hand. Fleur hesitated, grasped it and stood up. She turned her back to him, picked up the battered Invisibility Cloak and faced Harry again.

He seemed to have grown a bit again. Fleur was no Amazon, but she wasn't short at five foot eleven. Harry wasn't particularly tall, due to ten years and four summers of malnourishment. Right now, Harry was only just shorter than the older woman.

The two of them stared into each other's eyes for a moment, feeling uncomfortable and uncertain, yet unable to look away.

Memories flashed through Harry's eyes, recalling a similar situation between the two of them in Fleur's garden in France. However, there was something different this time. They were no longer as comfortable with each other. Whatever closeness had been gained before or after they had kissed was gone. They weren't impersonal like they had been before the previous summer, nor were they reasonably close like they had been at the start of this adventure.

He felt small now, standing beside Fleur, shorter than her. It was another aspect that he felt was mocking him. The word irrational crossed his mind many times, only to be disregarded in favor of more irrepressible, dark thoughts. He kept his promise, though, and did not speak up, did not lash out, did nothing.

Similar thoughts then graced their minds. Did the other regret that night in France now that they had found out the fallout? Was it truly worth it, no matter how pleasurable, how happy they had been?

Neither of them had the answer to those questions.

The moment passed.

Fleur turned towards the door; Harry followed suit a moment later. A dozen steps and the two of them were at the door, awaiting the next move.

This time Harry made the first move.

"Thank you, Fleur," Harry spoke quietly. He was thanking her for the pensieve, the memories and those three nights in France. Even though he knew it was impossible for them to have anything, it didn't, and hadn't, stopped him from wishing it, wishing it more than he had realized.

"I'm sorry, 'Arry," Fleur repeated. She was apologizing for using him like she had, for not being able to follow through, for choosing Bill over him, and for him making her feel content, at peace like she had at night in France. She should've slept on the floor.

With an almost silent ruffle, Fleur donned the Cloak. Harry didn't even look to see her disappear. Fleur, under the cover of the Cloak, couldn't bring herself to look at the sure to be sullen expression on the young man's face. He had had so much misfortune in his life and she was adding to it.

Harry heard footsteps, and then the door opened. He stared at the door, unseeing.

Fleur hesitated, wanting to say something to make him feel better, to offer him hope, but nothing came to mind. With a quiet click, she closed to door and left Harry alone in the Room of Requirement.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was waiting for Harry to return to the common room after talking with Fleur. She was one of the few who seemed to have noticed that neither of them exited after the rest. Not that they would've been able to see Fleur under the Cloak.

When she had arrived back in the common room, it had been shortly after eight. Every time the portrait hole opened, Hermione's head shot away from her homework to check if it was Harry or not. Each time she was disappointed, even sending a few unlucky Gryffindors glares as she grew more and more impatient and worried later into the night.

Lavender and Parvati both were watching their roommate jump and then glare at whoever entered the common room. It wasn't difficult to determine who she was waiting for. The two fashion queens of Gryffindor weren't even the only ones noticing and watching. Three fourth years were whispering in a corner, occasionally sending glances in Hermione's direction, especially when a new person came in.

Whether they knew it or not, Harry and Hermione were the unofficial most important two Gryffindors in the tower. Harry was Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived and what seemed to be the young man destined to save the wizarding world from Voldemort, if the Daily Prophet was even remotely accurate. He was central to almost everything strange that had happened over the past five years. Even without the new nickname, it seemed logical.

Hermione was the smartest Gryffindor in a great many years. Every year there were discussions regarding the brunette's intellect and why she wasn't in Ravenclaw. Nobody truly knew the answer.

Over the years, each year had taken an interest into the relationships between Harry, Ron and Hermione. Off the radar betting had even occurred during Harry's fourth year to determine who Harry would end up with until Hannah Abbot had exposed it at the start of their fifth year as her first act as prefect. Now that there was no Ron in the picture, it would evidently be thought that Harry and Hermione would end up together.

However, the fashion queens were not the only two to notice Harry's growing friendship with Susan and Hannah of Hufflepuff and Padma of Ravenclaw, much to Parvati's displeasure. What was stranger still was the declining friendship between Harry and Hermione. Dean had said it. Nobody liked to talk about the war and such matters, but everyone was well aware of it. In much the same way, everyone was aware of the growing distance between Harry and Hermione.

One might've argued that it was Ron's actions that tore them apart. Those that did were quickly quieted, for the Gryffindors had noticed that this had started soon after the beginning of the year, well before Ron had attempted to … do whatever to Hermione.

It was just before ten p.m. when Harry finally came through the portrait hole. Hermione looked up from her work, a glare already on her face. The glare disappeared as soon as Hermione realized it was finally Harry.

The young man in question didn't seem to notice Hermione at all, nor anyone else. Lavender, Parvati and the three fourth years noticed that Harry didn't seem to be focused on his surroundings at all. It was as if he was just going through the motions without any real awareness or focus.

Hermione was about to ask what Fleur wanted when she noticed Harry's condition as well. She remained silent as Harry walked straight past her and up the stairs to his dorm. By the time he had reached the door, most of the common room was watching him.

For a minute, there was no noise from the Gryffindors. There were no whisperings or mutterings, merely confused glances. The tide then broke, some returning to their conversations, some pondering Harry's behaviour and others resuming their work uncaring.

Hermione packed up her belongings, waved her wand to send them to her room and followed Harry upstairs. Again, Lavender, Parvati and the three fourth years watched Hermione until she disappeared from sight, all thinking the same thing.

What had happened to put Harry into such a depressing mood?

Harry slumped onto his bed, on his back, emotionally exhausted. It had been a very long day, one with some events he wished hadn't happened, some he had expected and a few surprises here and there.

The darkness of the night pressed in on the Gryffindor Tower. The sounds of the night were subdued – perhaps only to Harry, however. He repeatedly told himself to honor his promise, his promise to accept Fleur's decision. He repeatedly told himself that it could never have happened anyway. He repeatedly reminded himself that Fleur was engaged already, with a man she had loved. She had explained why she had done what they had done. In a way it was a comfort, and in others it wasn't at all.

A few minutes later, he finally realized he wasn't alone in his room. Hermione was standing a few meters away, watching him quietly, patiently, worriedly. He watched her for a moment, weighing up options silently, absently, before he shuffled over, creating more room on the bed. Hermione took the silent offer and sat down beside him.

She knew Harry well. She knew something bad had happened between him and Fleur – it was hard not to see now, if she hadn't suspected it when he had returned from France – but what was it? What could have happened between the two of them to cause Harry to become so despondent?

Hermione laid a hand on Harry's head, running her fingers through his hair. Lying on his back again, Harry sighed. For the next hour, Hermione sat beside Harry, occasionally repeating the motion, before the male finally fell asleep, without a sound uttered. Not a word had been spoken between them.

Deeply troubled by his attitude, Hermione waited a little longer, to make sure he was asleep, before removing his robes, shoes and socks, closing the curtains and leaving him to sleep.

She whispered thanks for giving them time alone to Neville, Dean, Seamus and Ron who had all witnessed his arrival and Hermione going after him.

The female dorms were equally subdued, something very rare when living with Lavender and Parvati. Hermione shook her head at their unasked questions. She had no idea why he was acting like that.

Hopefully, it was only temporary.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Over the next two days, Harry was flooded with questions about what was wrong with him. Hermione, despite her reticence to communicate with him the previous evening, was especially persistent. He knew deep down that she did it because she cared, but for some periods of time he found that fact difficult to remember. Long periods. Often he only remembered just in time to not snap at her.

When Hermione had come in to his dorm room the night of the breakup, he was too tired to let his inexplicable animosity towards his best friend get in the way of peace. He simply let Hermione sit by him. In the end, Harry was glad he hadn't fought with Hermione. It was comforting to have someone there who cared for him, even platonically like Hermione. He thought about Fleur and little else before he had finally drifted off, succumbing to the dreams that gave him solace.

When he woke, Harry was alone, minus his shoes, socks and robes. He figured Hermione had taken them off after he had fallen asleep.

Strangely, he felt considerably better. Harry couldn't tell if it was because he had accepted what had happened the previous night already or if his mind had unconsciously pushed it away, not letting with his conscious mind deal with it.

Harry found he didn't care. He didn't really want to spend his time wallowing over something he knew would never happen.

Ginny helped, in that regard. She took him aside after breakfast on Sunday and spoke to him. The contents of the conversation were a blur. Harry only remembered her presence, the pleasure of her touch, and her wonderful smile.

The fourth day after the breakup, Hermione stepped forward and questioned him about Ginny, of all the things. She was in his mind more often than he would have thought had he not been grateful for the distraction. He questioned the thoughts once… but could not recall the instance clearly at all, as if it were merely a dream he had had and the climax had slipped through his fingers when he gave the matter attention.

Despite the assistance of Hermione and Ginny, Fleur remained in distant thought, bringing him down every now and then. Surprisingly, Daphne requested a conversation in private through a message delivered by a Ravenclaw first year she had intimidated. The poor girl had been quivering as she delivered the message. Had Harry not know her, or not grown a backbone over the past two years, he probably would've been intimidated by Daphne too.

It was mid-afternoon, after a Herbology class, when Harry found himself locked in a classroom with Daphne, alone, again.

"What do you want, Daphne?" Harry asked bluntly, not in the mood to play games with her

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. Harry sighed. His tone had been less than welcoming.

"You wanted to know about Malfoy didn't you?" she asked impatiently.

His mind had been elsewhere for the past week, and thoughts of Malfoy had completely slipped. That was dangerous. He immediately resolved to sort himself out.

"Did you find out something?" Harry asked slightly more interested and welcoming. He leaned his hands on a table behind him, crossing his right leg over his left ankle.

"First things first," Daphne mock scolded him, as if he was a young boy eagerly awaiting his birthday gifts. She threw the Extendable Ear into the air, caught it and stuffed it back in her robe. "It is not quite as easy to eavesdrop in a common room filled with arrogant pigs and backstabbing bitches."

"I love your language, Daphne. Makes you wonder why you're so unpopular." Harry said in blunt sarcasm. He received a generous scowl for his cheek. "Hermione supply you with these?"

"Indeed." Daphne said, ignoring the gibe. "On last Sunday, I overheard a conversation between Parkinson, Nott and Malfoy that involved the word 'Polyjuice'." Harry raised his head to face the young woman again.

"That explains what I've been seeing on the Marauder's Map." Harry replied. The Map had been introduced to the DA through the memories of Harry's third year. It had been an interesting revelation. "Crabbe and Goyle have been standing outside the Room of Requirement an awful lot, but when I walked passed once there was only a lost first year."

Harry grimaced. "I thought she was cute. Great, now I'll never trust children."

Daphne scowled. "Way to steal my thunder, Potter. At any rate, yesterday, I overheard a second conversation with Nott and Malfoy. This one I heard in more detail. Nott was telling Malfoy how stupid his idea to use the necklace was." At this, Harry really became interested. Daphne couldn't help but smirk.

"Malfoy replied that he wasn't given much choice. His project wasn't going well and a certain someone was going to kill his father if he didn't succeed soon."

Harry stared, wide-eyed for a long time. "So Voldemort is forcing Malfoy to do this through threats on his father's life?" Harry surmised. He was very tempted to say 'serves him right for following Voldemort'. Fortunately, perhaps to his conscience, Harry refrained from saying that aloud.

"Looks like," Daphne confirmed distractedly. Malfoy hadn't actually told her that when he had forced her into this pesky situation with Oaths and whatnot. His demeanor had completely changed over the past two months. On the Express, he was bragging about having a mission for the Dark Lord and how he was going to prove himself and earn the Dark Mark he'd been given. Now, Malfoy didn't talk much at all. His mission was clearly not going well.

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry said brightly. He turned his head downwards, deep in thought.

It wasn't much, but it was another piece of the puzzle. Soon enough, he would have enough to figure out what exactly was happening. It was only a matter of time. They could, and would, do this.

Daphne merely nodded. She made to leave, stopping at the door, turning back to Harry.

"Two things Potter." Daphne said. "First, I'm still in."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He'd forgotten he was waiting for people to respond. He knew Hermione was a given, and Neville too. Padma was likely, and Su would follow. But he'd completely forgotten in his depression.

"Second, whatever is bothering you, move the bloody hell on already," she said suddenly, surprising Harry. He looked up from the ground and looked at Daphne. She refused to meet his eye. "Things that will depress you do happen. All you can do is rise above it. Move on already, or I'll never hear the end of it from Bones and Abbott. Whatever you may believe, it is painful listening to the two of them blather on about you being depressed."

As suddenly as she had spoken, Daphne opened the door, walked outside and closed it, leaving a surprised Harry to think in the room by himself.

With a small smile, Harry thought, I didn't know she cared.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione continued to badger Harry about Ginny over the next couple days, and mention things he'd never heard of. Whatever was up with her was starting to get on his nerves, and the longer it went on, the more he wanted to yell at her. The urge was becoming harder and harder to resist.

Breakfast the Sunday on the weekend after the memories were viewed saw Tonks, of all people, at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and Neville spotted her on their way to the Great Hall. Tonks, however, did not see them, and she appeared to be in a rush.

"She still looks depressed about something," Hermione remarked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Neville.

"Who does?" Neville asked while loading up his plate with his lunch for the day. He had stepped into the Great Hall a few minutes ahead of them.

"Tonks," Harry answered before doing the same.

"The Auror?" Neville asked, confirming.

"The very same," Harry replied while beginning to eat a sausage. He turned to Hermione. "I suppose you're referring to her choice in hair color? No more pink or purple instead only dark colors?"

Hermione nodded, taking a bite of her own salad lunch.

"We could ask," Harry suggested, placing his fork down and reaching for a drink.

"Ask who what?" a voice interrupted the three of them. Harry turned to see Ginny standing behind Neville. The second his eyes landed on her, Harry had to resist greeting the newcomer more warmly than was necessary. He winced; the desire to touch the young woman in front of him was surprisingly strong. Nobody else seemed to notice or be affected in the least.

"Tonks, why she's depressed," Hermione answered for the three of them, giving Ginny a wary look but otherwise showing no signs of the new addition. She turned to Harry and Neville for confirmation, only to notice a series of odd expressions on her best friend's face. "Are you alright?" she asked Harry.

Harry started, turned back around and muttered a quiet 'yeah'. Instantly the desire seemed to die down.

What the name of Merlin was that? Harry asked himself. It was not the first time, though the only one he could recall with clarity.

Neville saw Ginny give Harry a smile, a smile that looked rather predator like, before taking a seat on the other side of Hermione. Unnerved, Neville fervently kept an eye on Ginny for the rest of the meal.

From then on, Harry refused to look at the youngest and only female Weasley. Hermione sat between them, wondering what she was missing. Her mind ran through what she had just seen.

Harry had seen Ginny and started to look as if he was fighting with himself, judging by the expressions he made. As soon as he looked away, he seemed fine again. Now he was avoiding looking at her. Had something happened between them that she didn't know about?

Hermione thought about Ginny's actions so far this year. She thought about her own knowledge of the redhead and what Harry had told her when he had returned from wherever his hideaway was earlier in the year.

"I'm still not sure whether she did give me a love potion or not but she's probably one step away from trying them on you."

"I know. I overheard three fourth years talking about it. Her current plan seems to be to snog everyone in sight so I notice she's a girl."

'Oh!" Hermione exclaimed aloud. She had completely forgotten about that!

Beside her, Harry jumped mid-swallow at the sudden noise. He coughed a few times, received a few thumps on the back from Neville, swallowed and turned to Hermione, his face red from having trouble breathing.

"I hope you had a good reason for that," he stated half menacingly, still regaining his breath.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione replied in a rush. "I've got to go." And with that, Hermione stood, turned, stepped over the bench and walked off at a quick pace.

Harry, Neville and Ginny watched her walk off.

"Where's she going?" Neville asked.

"Library probably," Harry answered. "It's been awhile since she's done that. Oh, hang on," Harry added, seeing Hermione not turn to leave the hall, but, instead, turn down the Ravenclaw house table. She stopped in front of Padma and started talking to her, taking a seat a few seconds later.

"What are you all looking at?" asked an exasperated voice. Harry and Neville turned to see the new person. This time it was Parvati. She took the seat next to Ginny after Ginny shuffled into Hermione's old seat. Harry tensed and turned back to Hermione, who also had taken a seat, and Padma. He caught them glancing his way more than once.

How odd.

"Hermione," Neville responded to Parvati's question. Parvati followed their gaze and saw her sister and Hermione seated together.

"Now why are those two together?" she asked, placing emphasis on 'those', as if they were distasteful objects.

Harry shrugged. He was thinking about Padma's words about her sister. She fancied the Boy-Who-Lived for four years, until the Yule Ball and then supposedly stopped. Parvati didn't seem happy to see him at all when he returned from France. She and Ginny had become friends recently, which explained why they were seated together now. Padma had asked him to be nice to her, so he figured he'd give it a shot, her attitude aside.

"You've got me," Harry answered, turning to face the twin sister that didn't seem as fond of him. Instantly he regretted the motion. He had forgotten that Ginny was beside him. Immediately, he felt an urge, something within him begging him to touch the female in front of him. His hand jerked, moving on its own accord. Harry tried to resist as best he could. The result was a sudden movement with his left arm, knocking over his drink on the table.

The orange liquid streaming from his former glass of pumpkin juice flooded across the table. Several nearby people turned to see what had caused the small crash, saw the spilled drink and turned away, a few giving him odd looks. It was all the distraction Harry needed.

Turning away from Ginny with as much willpower as he could muster, he withdrew his wand, cast the Scouring Charm to clean up the mess and picked up his knocked over glass.

"Everything alright, Harry?" he heard Ginny ask sweetly. It was disturbingly musical to his ears.

"Yeah, "Harry replied in a surprisingly normal voice. Something was wrong; very, very wrong. Wasn't it just weeks ago when this same girl, whose voice sounded beautiful to his ears, had yelled at him for sitting and talking with another girl? Wasn't it just weeks ago when he had felt nothing towards this girl, nothing whatsoever? Wasn't it just one week ago when he was pining after a French quarter-Veela and not the short, petite redhead younger sister of a former best friend?

This wasn't right. Absolutely one hundred percent completely not right.

Had Hermione noticed that too?

The questions about Ginny… Merlin, she knew, she'd realized it.

Warily, Harry glanced over towards Hermione and Padma and surprisingly met their gaze. He moved his eyes to the side, ever so slightly, in Ginny's direction. Padma seemed to notice the movement even from their distance.

Internally, Harry warred with the desire to stay beside Ginny and the desire to get the hell away. Barely, and just barely, the desire to move won out.

Harry took one last bite of a barely eaten meal, stood, avoided Ginny or Parvati's gaze and made his way quickly to Hermione and Padma. He could feel Ginny's eyes on him, watching him walk towards to Hermione.

The brunette in question was still deeply involved in a whispered conversation with Padma and hadn't noticed Tonks' rather loud entrance. He placed a hand on Hermione and leaned in close to join in the whispers.

Hermione jumped at the sudden contact. Recognizing Harry after her sharp turn, she sent him a worried expression. Hermione was about to speak when Harry interrupted her.

"Something is wrong with me, and I think Ginny's behind it."

Hermione and Padma shared a look, and then Hermione faced Harry and looked him in the eyes.

"I know."

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: Yes, Harry's very much all over the place in this chapter. That's the intention. The edit may also have made this a little less coherent, as, admittedly, this chapter was rushed to completion. However, I believe it covers everything that was necessary. Before, I had a much longer scene detailing the reactions and conversations about the memories; however, while it did offer some interesting character moments, it was largely filler. Thus, the abbreviated version that now exists.