Resolutions

By Neurotica

Twenty-Five

It was nearly a week after the retrieval of the Horcrux before Harry got the chance to pull Ginny aside, away from their friends, and out onto the cold Hogwarts grounds. Between Quidditch, lessons and homework, Head Boy duties, and his loss of nerve every time he thought about the deed at hand, there just hadn't been a spare moment. But finally, his and Ginny's schedules had agreed, and on a sunny Friday afternoon, they both had a free period from lessons, and Harry seized his chance. He'd gone to the kitchens and asked the house-elves to prepare him a picnic lunch—there was enough food in that one wicker basket to feed half of Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny seemed a little bemused when Harry announced his plan for the day, but she'd grabbed her cloak and took his arm, allowing him to steer her out of the castle. Naomi passed them in one of the corridors and smiled and winked at Harry before going on her way. When the young couple reached a secluded part of the grounds, they were interrupted twice more before Harry could even heat a spot on the ground to melt the snow so he could put down a blanket—Tonks, who'd been doing her patrols, stopped to chat for a few minutes, followed a few moments later by Hagrid. Harry enjoyed his chats with Hagrid immensely—every chance he and his friends had, they would go to the gamekeeper's hut for afternoon tea—but at that precise moment, he really just wanted Hagrid to go away. Finally, Hagrid left, and Harry didn't hesitate any longer before casting a privacy spell around the area so he could finish his preparations. The snow was cleared, the warming charm was placed to heat the ground, and the blanket was conjured.

"Now what?" Ginny asked as she watched her boyfriend look around with a furrowed brow, her lips twitching.

Now I hope this goes a lot smoother than it did with my mum and dad... Or even Remus and Naomi, Harry thought.

"Now we eat," he said aloud, helping Ginny settle on the blanket and lowering himself beside her. He opened the lid of the basket and felt his eyes widen. Inside was an entire ham with every side Harry could imagine. "Leave it to the house-elves." He grinned, handing Ginny a plate with potatoes, green beans, and a dinner roll. "Ah, and they even packed us some mulled mead." He poured two goblets full of the drink and passed one over to Ginny. "Cheers," he said, smiling as he clinked his goblet with hers before taking a deep drink.

Over their meal, Harry tried once more to get up his nerve to ask Ginny the question he'd brought her out here to ask. He found out quickly that eating had become a rather difficult task—what little food he could get past the large lump in his throat made him feel like he was about to throw up from nervousness. It didn't take Ginny long to notice his odd behavior, either.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked quietly.

He tried to smile. "Nothing," he said, his voice strangely high-pitched. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Why would you think anything would be wrong?"

Ginny raised a pale eyebrow. "Because you're buttering your ham," she said.

He looked down and found what he'd thought had been a roll had indeed been a slice of ham. He quickly dropped it and the butter knife to his plate, sighing. "Okay, so I'm not fine. But nothing's really wrong, per se. Yet, that is," he added under his breath.

"Harry, what is going on?" she asked bluntly. "You've been acting oddly all week."

Harry bit his lip and reached into his pocket, feeling the small item that waited there. He cleared his throat. "You know I love you, Ginny, and I'd do anything for you. We've been through a lot, and we still have much more we're going to have to face together. You never ran away from me when I told you of all the dangers that just knowing me put you in, nor did you leave when you saw firsthand how much trouble I could bring to one person's life." He took a deep breath and reached over to take her hands. "Remus told me once that having those you love on your side during your worst times gives you a new strength you never knew you had. He said that when I found love, I'd be able to do anything to keep her safe, that my love for her and hers for me would give me power to overcome my worst fears." He smiled, looking deeply into her eyes. "And it's true. I don't know what will happen in the next few years. I don't know what will happen between Voldemort and me. But whatever does happen, I want you by my side. When this war is over, I want to know I can come home and hold you and make all my troubles go away."

He let go of her hands and reached into his robes, pulling out a dark green velvet box. Ginny gasped as he opened it and showed its contents to her, her eyes filling with tears. With a shaking hand, he took the golden band with three tiny emeralds out and held it out to her. "Ginevra Molly Weasley," he said very quietly, holding the ring out to her. "Will you marry me?"

He barely registered her choked sob or her whispered yes, but he slipped the ring on her finger nonetheless—it fit perfectly—and pulled her to him for a very deep, long kiss.

While Harry and Ginny were having their moment at Hogwarts, Sirius was at the Ministry wishing he had something to beat his head against. Ever since the night he and Tonks had found Minister Bones in the Department of Mysteries, the entire Ministry had been acting like first year Muggleborn students at Hogwarts who'd not yet learned anything about how the wizarding world operated. It was rather frustrating, watching wizards who'd been with the Ministry for the better part of their lives running around in a panic because of the tiny fact that the Minister of Magic had been under the Imperius Curse for months.

"Sirius," Remus said in an amused patience that was required to deal with Sirius Black. "They're panicking because their leader has been forced to do things that are far from lawful. Think about those files that she stole—"

"She didn't steal anything," Sirius growled. "None of this has been the Minister's fault. Anybody could have been put under that bloody curse, even you or me. People are acting like she willingly broke into those offices; they act like they've never met the woman before. They ought to know damn bloody well that Amelia Bones would never do anything like this."

Remus sighed. "You know how the Ministry is, Sirius. This isn't exactly what the wizarding world needs at a time like this—we're in the middle of a war. Luckily it's not yet been front-page news on the Prophet. But if you think this is bad, wait until the rest of the world finds out what's happened."

"Honestly, knowing how the rumor mill around this place works, that's a bloody miracle," Sirius said. "Well, the good news is that nobody is allowed to see the Minister without at least three Hit Wizards present."

Remus looked at him gravely. "And unfortunately, I can't say that's too much of a comfort. I'm only assuming, but I think Voldemort is behind the curses on the Minister and Slughorn, and if I'm right—"

"Which you always are," Sirius muttered.

"If I'm right, even Hit Wizards won't be able to stop whatever he decides to make her do next," Remus finished.

"Probably not, but they do know what a person looks like whey they're under Imperius, and they've been instructed to stun her if she shows even the slightest sign of being cursed," Sirius said, glancing at his watch. "I think I'll head back to Number Twelve; I'm finished here for the day, and I promised Mister Potter I'd put his portrait somewhere other than the downstairs bathroom—that was the only place I could find room…"

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. "What I don't understand is how the portrait was down in that cellar for so long and nobody knew about it."

Sirius shrugged, leading the way out of Auror Headquarters. "Far as I know, from what Mister Potter said, James hardly ever went down there after he and Lily were married, so he had no idea his father's portrait had even been created. What I'm wondering about is if there might be a portrait of James around there someplace. We could put it up across from my mother and watch them argue—it'd be brilliant. James hated my mother."

"That'd be painful," Remus corrected. "But James always did have some good insults for her."

Sirius snickered. "We'll have to go down there sometime, see what all's survived. From what Harry said, there's some wicked stuff down there."

Remus nodded. "Add it on to our 'to-do' list. Speaking of which," he added quietly. "Have you gotten your team ready to go down to the Underground?"

"Yes," Sirius said. "Tonks, Proudfoot, Davies, and Savage. I'd thought about inviting Mad-Eye along as well."

"That'd be interesting." Remus snorted. "Might not be such a bad idea, actually. That way, we'd know what we're facing before we actually got there."

The two wizards joined the queue at the Atrium fireplaces. "I'll ask him if he wants to come along, then. Day before the full moon, you said? Any particular reason?"

Remus nodded. "They don't take Wolfsbane—only Greyback did. They'll be feeling the full effects of the moon, and they'll be at their weakest the day before. It'll make our job easier."

The Head Auror grinned. "What could be easier than facing dozens of pissed off werewolves day before a full moon? It can't be any harder than dealing with a wife that's six months pregnant with twins, right?"

Remus looked at him oddly. "You know, Padfoot," he said, taking a handful of Floo powder. "There are times when your logic sincerely amazes me, and this is one of those times."

As Remus disappeared in the whirl of green flames, Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult..."

By the time Harry and Ginny finally made it back to Gryffindor Tower that evening, dinner had already come and gone. Both of them looked deliriously happy, but they'd decided to wait a while before making the announcement of their engagement. The main reason for this being that Ron had only accepted the fact that they were a couple at all a few months ago, and this announcement might not go over too well with him. There was also the fact that they wanted to tell their families at the same time ("More witnesses when Sirius flips out,"Harry had said). The last thing they wanted was to see their parents/guardians fall over dead of a heart attack, or have (minimum) one of the Weasley boys suddenly decide Harry wasn't good enough for their baby sister and take him out to the broomshed—Harry worried about ever coming out alive from an encounter of that sort.

They had, however, stopped by Naomi's office to inform her of the engagement and she couldn't have been happier for them. She'd even offered to help break the news to Sirius and Remus, for which Harry was quite grateful; Harry honestly had no idea how his two very overprotective guardians would react to this news.

"Where've you two been?" Ron demanded over all the commotion in the common room the moment the couple had climbed through the portrait hole. "We've been looking all over for you!"

"Did you check the map?" Harry asked with an amused raised eyebrow.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but promptly snapped it shut again, frowning. "No, didn't even think of it actually..."

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling. "I tried to tell him you'd just gone out for a walk around the grounds, but of course he's gone mental trying to figure out exactly why you'd want to do that."

Ginny shrugged, holding her left hand behind her back. "We just wanted some fresh air," she said lightly. "Well, I've got Transfiguration homework to finish, so I'll see you lot tomorrow morning. Good night," she added softly, kissing Harry until Ron cleared his throat loudly to break them up. She rolled her eyes. "Night, Hermione, Ronniekins."

"Oy! I told you not to call me that!" Ron called after her as she went up the stairs.

Harry continued to watch her until she disappeared around the corner, very aware that he was grinning like an idiot, but not caring one bit. When he turned to Ron and Hermione, the other wizard had gone back to a comic book he'd borrowed from Dean Thomas—he seemed to enjoy the idea of a rich Muggle dressing up as a bat and fighting crime—but Hermione was watching him curiously.

What? he mouthed to her.

She smiled knowingly and shook her head. Nothing, she replied. "Are you nearly finished with your Arithmancy homework, Harry?" she asked out loud.

Slightly confused at his best friend, Harry shook his head and sat in an armchair by the fire. "Not really," he answered, ruffling his hair a little. "How long do we have before patrols? I was thinking you could help me. I said help, not copy!" he added hastily at Hermione's raised eyebrow.

"Go get your book," Hermione said wearily. "Honestly, how you get past your lessons without me is a mystery."

Harry grinned and kissed the top of Hermione's head as he made his way up to his dorm. When he returned some five minutes later, he quickly realized none of his homework would be completed that night. Fred and George Weasley had entered the common room and were now getting the attention of every Gryffindor present, even the ones who'd come to Hogwarts after they'd graduated.

"Harry old boy!" Fred said brightly. "Smashing to see you!"

"Hey, what're you two doing here?" Harry asked joining the crowd around the twins.

"Oh, we were in the area," George said dismissively.

"And we thought we'd drop by to see our little brother and all his friends," Fred finished.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why were you in the neighborhood?" he asked suspiciously.

The twins shrugged in unison. "Business in Hogsmeade," Fred said mysteriously.

"Speaking of which, do you have a minute, Harry? We wanted a word with you."

Ron frowned. "Why?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Ronnie," Fred said airily.

"Or else we'll hex it off." Ron glared at George.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, sure, I've got a bit of time," he said.

"Excellent," the twins replied, practically dragging him out of the common room, ignoring the groans of the other students—apparently Fred and George had been promoting some of their products, judging by the flyers a few of the younger ones had.

"What's up?" the younger wizard asked, sitting at the foot of a suit of armor.

"Muffliato," Fred muttered. "We don't need to be heard—"

"Especially if ickle Ronniekins decides to eavesdrop," George said. "We just wondered if Sirius and Remus ever figured out where the gold from your getting Order of Merlin went."

Harry smirked, remembering the afternoon after the presentation ceremony at the Ministry. For months, he'd been listening to Fred and George talk of where they were going to get enough gold to open their joke shop—they'd had a little saved up from their mail order business, but most of that had gone to supplies and such. When the Minister of Magic had handed him a decent-sized bag of gold after he'd received the Order of Merlin, First Class for his rescue of Ron from Voldemort's hideout, he'd known exactly what to do with it. Neither Fred nor George had been exactly happy with Harry's proposition, but after he'd threatened to hit the twins with a Bat-Bogey Hex Ginny had taught him not long before, they'd agreed. And even then, they would only accept it as a loan—they'd pay Harry back, with interest, the moment their shop took off.

"They have no idea," Harry said, answering the question. "And it wouldn't really matter if they did, would it? It was my gold to do what I pleased with. What about your mum? Does she know?"

Fred shook his head. "Not yet," he answered. "We didn't plan on telling her until the shop's opened. But she is wondering where we've gotten the money to buy her brand-new robes for her birthday last month."

"We told her we're still doing the mail order business," George said. "She wasn't too happy with it, but Bill was there and he kept her from getting too upset."

"He reminded her how much Dad loved our joke shop idea," Fred said quietly. "It might not have been the best technique to use, but afterwards, she seemed genuinely interested in our ideas."

"We started to wonder if she was really our mum or not—she just accepted it like she'd been a fan of the idea since we came up with it in sixth year," George said. "Anyway, the real reason we cam by was to let you in on how we're using your investment."

Fred nodded. "The shop opens 1 January."

"We wanted to do it sooner—"

"But we're still waiting for a few imported materials—"

"Dung Fletcher's been helping us out with a few of the more hard-to-get items—"

"And getting them into the country takes time—"

"So while we're waiting for our packages, we're working out the final touches."

"On New Year's Eve, we're having an exclusive grand opening party—"

"Sort of a preview for family and friends of what we're going to be selling—"

"You're invited, naturally, along with Sirius, Remus, Naomi, and Emmeline, if she's up to it," George concluded.

"Wicked." Harry grinned. "I was starting to wonder if you'd just given up on the shop."

Fred looked highly offended. "Are you mad?" he asked. "It's stronger than ever."

"We just decided to take a bit of time off when Dad passed," George said. "Help take care of Mum, you know?"

Harry nodded in understanding. "I'm looking forward to it; it should be great."

"Yeah," Fred said. "And listen, we realize we haven't properly thanked you—"

"You've done a lot for us, mate, and anything you need, let us know, and we'll do whatever we can to help."

"We appreciate that gold more than you know..."

Harry waved them off. "It's like I said that day, the whole world could do with a few more laughs, and if I'd kept it, it would have just sat in my vault collecting dust. I'm a rich little sot as it is, there's no real need for me to have kept it."

"Well, either way," Fred said, looking a little like Ron when Harry bought a round of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. "We do appreciate it, and anything you need, anytime, you let us know. Understand?"

"I understand," Harry said, nodding seriously while mentally tagging the conversation for when he finally told the twins he was engaged to their baby sister. "So how'd you get past the Auror guards outside with just the excuse of seeing me?"

"We're actually not here only to see you, dear Harry," George said, taking down the privacy spell around them.

Fred nodded as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. "You're just a detour; we've actually got an appointment with the Headmaster."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What, are you going to try and sell him stock shares in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

The twins looked at one another thoughtfully. "That may not be a bad idea, actually."

"But he called us here, so we'll have to see what he wants before we try all that."

"Right, well, I should get back in. Hermione and I have patrol rounds soon—"

"Ah yes, the Head Boy." George grinned.

"And if we hadn't known Bill, we'd say you were a total prat for even accepting that shiny little badge," Fred said gravely.

"So we'll stick to our belief that only gits become Prefect."

"You do realize Ron is still a Prefect, don't you?" Harry asked.

"Of course!" the twins said. "Now, off you go, young Harry."

"We'll see you 'round Christmas, mate."

"Keep Ron out of trouble—"

"On second thought, get him into some trouble, lighten him up a little."

"He's becoming a bit stiff, if you know what we mean."

Harry assured the twins he would keep Ron from becoming their worst idea of a Prefect and waved them off as they headed towards Dumbledore's office, wondering all the while why the Headmaster would call them to Hogwarts. He went through the Fat Lady's portrait again and found Ron waiting for him. "They just wanted to know what to get you for Christmas," Harry lied smoothly when asked what the twins had wanted. "Told them you needed a new brush for your..." he moved closer to Ron, "tail..."

Ron grinned. "Oh, I meant to tell you earlier, I've got the final incantation ready. I should be ready to finish this weekend."

Harry nodded. "It'll have to wait until after Quidditch practice—we've got the Slytherin match next week, and we've still got to get the team shaped up a bit now that Katie's gone."

"Well, we only need a Chaser, so..."

Harry sighed, thankful to have gotten Ron onto a subject that didn't include the Weasley twins or Animagus transformations, neither of which being a topic that needed to be overheard by the more nosy Gryffindors who spent most of their time eavesdropping on their housemates' conversations. The two wizards talked Quidditch strategy for about an hour, Harry forgetting all about his homework until Hermione announced it was time she and Harry started their rounds.

Patrol that night was normal. The Prefects had already caught most of the students out of bed after curfew, so all Harry and Hermione really had to do was made sure the Prefects had gone back to their own common rooms instead of deciding to walk the corridors. Once the one walk around the castle was completed around one-thirty, the Head Boy and Girl made their way to the entrance hall where Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and (Harry covertly rolled his eyes) Snape were waiting with Sirius and Naomi. The Head Auror was doing everything possible to keep from having to look at the Potions professor, who stood on the farthest end of the entrance hall from the other wizard.

"Our rounds are finished, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "No students were found out of their common rooms and all the classroom doors are locked."

McGonagall nodded curtly. "Very well, Miss Granger." She glanced over at Snape who reluctantly joined the group. "Tonight, the Headmaster has asked us to walk the grounds and double-check the wards once more. We will split into two groups—Severus, Filius, Miss Granger, and I will go east; Sirius, Naomi, and Mister Potter will take the west. We will regroup here in one hour. If there are any dangers we will send a message the normal way. Any questions?"

Harry glanced at Sirius; his godfather's lips were twitching as they all answered, "No, Professor."

"Very good, then. Off you go."

Sirius was chuckling as he led the way towards the forest. "You never get too old for a McGonagall glare," he said. "Even greasy old Sevvy-poo—" Harry and Naomi raised their eyebrows at one another, "—can't disobey her when she does that."

"Sevvy-poo?" Harry said incredulously, laughing. Sirius grinned and shrugged.

Naomi shook her head, her shoulders shaking in laughter. "Well, she is the Deputy Headmistress, darling," she said, slipping her arm through her husband's once they all had a good long laugh. "And she did teach us for seven years, so she does have some power over him."

"But his entire attitude focuses around his being all-powerful and all-knowing," Harry argued. "The only person I've never seen him cross is Dumbledore."

"That'll be the day." Sirius snorted. "After everything Dumbledore's done for that git... If he ever crossed him, he'd have the entire Order out for his blood. Dumbledore trusted him when no one else would, accepted him when everyone told him he was wrong to do it." He sighed. "Why are we talking about Snape?"

"Because you brought it up," Harry said. Sirius glared half-heartedly at him. "How're things at home?"

"Normal," Sirius told him. "Remus and I put your grandfather's portrait up in the library—he seems to like that. Emmeline is still very much pregnant—she's eating almost everything she can get her hands on. Remus is still worried she's doing too much—he thinks she needs complete bed rest, but of course, she doesn't agree."

"What does Ted say?" Naomi asked.

"He doesn't want her up conjuring furniture or battling Death Eaters, but she can be up and about around the house. After December, though, he doesn't want her out of bed for more than two or three hours a day."

Harry winced. "That's going to make her miserable," he said. Sirius and Naomi nodded. "So are you going to be here for the Quidditch match next week, Sirius?"

"Most likely," the Auror replied. "Unless something unforeseen comes up. Isn't it a bit late in the season to just now be starting the first match?"

"There's been a lot going on around here," Naomi said. "It's pushed everything back a little."

The trio continued to talk as they patrolled, occasionally stopping at the gate surrounding the grounds and testing out the wards—everything was functioning perfectly. Sirius continued to bring Harry and Naomi up to speed with the happenings outside Hogwarts that hadn't yet been in the Prophet. His main concern was Minister Bones—within the last day or so, he'd heard rumors that she'd thought about stepping down. Even Harry understood what it would mean if the Ministry lost their leader while they were still in the midst of a war.

"But what's worse is the idea of who might replace her if she does resign," Sirius said. "I heard one person talking about bringing Cornelius Fudge back. Could you imagine?"

Naomi sighed. "I'd be worried about all the laws Bones has been working on, like the werewolf legislations. What will happen if they're not finished by the time she's replaced?"

"Maybe she won't resign," Harry said optimistically. "Anyone could've been put under the Imperius Curse. Maybe the Minister should take Occlumency lessons..."

Sirius nodded. "It couldn't hurt. Personally, I think the entire Ministry should know a bit of Occlumency. Bones is the best Minister we've had in years, it'd be horrible to lose her now..."

"I agree," Naomi said. "But if she honestly feels she can't do her job because she's afraid of what damage could be done, there's no reason for her to stay in office. I don't want to see anyone else in there, either, least of all Fudge. But the last thing the wizarding world needs right now is a leader who can't lead..."

The patrol and conversation ended quicker than Harry had wanted or had anticipated, and the Blacks and Harry met the other professors just inside the castle doors at a little past three o'clock. "Miss Granger has already left for Gryffindor Tower," McGonagall said. "I suggest you do the same."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "Night, Sirius, Professors." The only adult who didn't return the sentiment was Snape, which neither surprised nor disappointed Harry in the slightest.

He turned the corner, yawning, and began smiling widely, the memory of proposing to Ginny floating to the forefront of his mind again. He'd been planning the day for a few months, but he was far from getting used to the idea of actually being engaged. And the fact that she'd said yes... He knew well how Ginny Weasley felt about him, but she still had a year of Hogwarts to complete, and he hadn't been sure if she wouldn't want to wait a few years before even thinking about marriage.

Then there was the whole complex Harry knew he had about himself from being the Boy-Who-Lived, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. Ginny knew well what risks were involved when being associated with Harry Potter—her brother's kidnapping from his bedroom at home; Hermione's attack by Greyback and her parents' deaths before that; her father's death (though that wasn't technically caused by being associated with him, Harry was still convinced he should have somehow stopped it); then there were all the other things that'd happened to Harry and his family. Once or twice, Harry had tired to convince himself that Ginny deserved better than him, that she'd be safer with anybody else. But then another part of him called him a dolt and told him Ginny wouldn't be happy with anybody else, and that once Voldemort was gone, they could live happily ever after.

What if Voldemort kills you, though—what if you die in the process of killing him? the cynical part of his mind had argued. You're just going to leave Ginny miserable for the rest of her life. End it now, save her a broken heart in the end.

If Voldemort kills me or I die trying to kill him, at least Ginny will know I died loving her. I don't want something to happen to me, and leave her wondering if I ever loved her at all because I was an idiot and broke up with her. Not going to happen, mate. After that argument with the voices in his head, Harry hadn't had any more second thoughts, and he—

Harry turned a corner and stopped dead. He groaned inwardly at the sight of all four seventh year Slytherin boys standing around a statue. "Just because you lot have been inbred so much that your brains aren't the proper size, that doesn't give you an excuse to be out of your common room past curfew." He belatedly realized that he was outnumbered and had just insulted a group of what greatly resembled apes. But much like when he insulted Snape once in class, he didn't much care.

"Well, well," Nott said coldly, turning around. "Look at this, boys: Black's let Potter off his leash. Doesn't he still have to hold your hand when you take a piss, Potter?"

"At least he hasn't been kissing the Snake Lord's arse all his life."

"No, that's his wife, isn't it?"

Harry blinked in surprise. How did Nott know about Naomi?

"So does your entire family kill innocent teenagers, Potter? Does Lupin go out hunting for fresh meat every full moon?" Zabini asked. "Heard he had a right good time a few months back with a Muggle family."

Harry's jaw clenched. "Shut your mouth," he growled.

Nott smirked at Zabini. "Seems we've struck a chord, Blaise," he said in delight. "Tell me, Potter, how does your godfather live with himself after drowning his own cousin? I heard Mrs. Malfoy cursed him off her property when she found out. Serves him right; I wouldn't want that sort of filth on my land, either."

"Malfoy deserved what he got," Harry sneered. "Eye for an eye, and all that."

Zabini snorted. "You really think that Muggle-lover's life was worth anything? Draco was worth more than the entire Weasley family put together—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted.

"PROTEGO!" Zabini countered.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Nott yelled.

Harry ducked, only vaguely realizing Crabbe and Goyle had moved to opposite ends of the hall. By the time he shot off his next spell, the two goons had grabbed his arms—one of them bent Harry's arm back to the point he was sure it was going to break, and he dropped his wand.

"I've been waiting for this day for months," Nott said quietly, approaching Harry, his eyes glittering maliciously. "Draco had wanted to be the one to do this, so it's only fitting one of his final wishes was carried out..." He swung back his fist and hit Harry hard in the face, knocking his glasses off. Harry could feel blood pouring from his now broken nose to his mouth, and he fought hard against the grip Crabbe and Goyle had on him, finally managing to swing his leg around to kick one of them—whichever one it was, he grunted in pain and automatically let go of Harry to grab his leg. Harry took the very short moment to knee the other gorilla-looking wizard in an area that Harry hoped assured he'd never be able to reproduce.

While two of the Slytherins were on the ground writhing in pain, and before the other two, the two with actual functioning brains larger than a pea, realized what he'd done, Harry dived to the floor for his wand and fired off the first spell that came to him. Luckily, the Stunning Spell hit Zabini squarely—the wizard fell to the floor hard, leaving Harry and Nott practically alone in the corridor. Crabbe and Goyle had both crawled away to recover.

"You'll pay for that, Potter," Nott threatened, raising his wand again. "CRUCIO!"

The intense, horrible pain of the Cruciatus Curse only lasted seconds before Harry spotted a jet of red light come from nowhere and hit Nott. When he'd finally caught his breath, Harry looked up and thought his vision had gotten worse—not only was the entire corridor blurry since he'd lost his glasses, but now he was seeing double. Finally, somebody had the sense to return him his glasses and he was able to see that Fred and George were kneeling beside him.

"All right, Harry?" one of them asked concernedly.

Harry nodded, wiping his bloody nose with a sleeve of his robes. He couldn't get more than that out before he heard running footsteps behind him. One of the twins helped him sit up and he found Sirius, Naomi, McGonagall, and Snape had arrived. Better late than never, I suppose.

"What in Merlin's name..." McGonagall breathed, looking at the two stunned Slytherins that remained in the hall. "Potter, what is the meaning of this?"

"Nott used the Cruciatus Curse on him, Professor," Fred said promptly before Harry even had the chance to answer. "George and I came around just in time and stunned him."

"He what?" Sirius asked loudly, turning furiously to Snape. "Is this what you've been teaching your students since you've been back, Snivellus?"

"SIRIUS!" Naomi and McGonagall shouted at the same time.

Sirius glared hard at Snape, but kept further comments to himself as he came over to Harry. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded. "Fine," he lied. With a wave of Sirius' wand, the blood from Harry's nose stopped flowing and the broken bone was repaired. "Thanks for that."

"Don't mention it," Sirius muttered automatically. "Was it just these two?" He gestured to Nott and Zabini.

Harry took a breath and told the adults what happened. By the end, the only person who didn't seem impressed was Snape. "You took down three Slytherins?" Naomi checked. Harry nodded. "Nice..."

McGonagall looked at her in exasperation. "Naomi, keep your comments to yourself. Need I remind you that you are a Hogwarts professor?"

Harry watched Sirius and Naomi exchange a small grin when McGonagall turned away. "Sorry, Minerva," Naomi said.

"Severus, will you retrieve Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, and bring them to the Headmaster's office?" Snape nodded curtly, returning the glare Sirius was sending him, and turned sharply on his heel towards the dungeons. "You two," she said to Fred and George, "please escort Mister Potter to the hospital wing. Sirius and Naomi, you will help me bring these two to the Headmaster."

Harry tried to object and tell McGonagall that he really didn't need the hospital wing, but he snapped his mouth shut at the look on the Deputy Headmistress' face. Fred and George helped him stand, and he said good night to Sirius and Naomi again as they floated Nott and Zabini onto stretchers. "I'll come by and see you later, Harry," Sirius called as he led the way to Dumbledore's office.

Harry raised a hand in acknowledgment. "So," he said to Fred and George as they reached the hospital wing, "I hadn't meant for my favor to be used up so soon, but thanks."

"Don't mention it," Fred said.

"And that didn't count as your favor—"

"We've wanted to do that for years."