The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Forty-four

Harry would have to forgive Alan, but he was quite certain the British boy was absolutely mad for insisting on relearning about History, because it was thick, difficult, cyclical and boring as Hell. Alan was struggling to stay awake through the History OWL, and he'd had to skip at least three questions already. Most of what he could answer was, incidentally, what he'd overheard everyone reminding Harry of over the past weeks. However, his headache was not helping matters any.

Another look at the front proved the hourglass to be seemingly no farther than it had been the last time he'd looked at it. The sand was trickling through it far too slowly to be normal. Someone had to have jinxed it. He was ignoring the fact that it was charmed against such interference, and forgot his complaints as his head throbbed painfully again. The disruption last night had kept the school buzzing for hours. It had resulted in a fight in the Slytherin common room as Alan's friends had taken offence to Umbridge's underhanded tactics. The sixth and fourth years involved had detention all morning, hanging by their ankles; the only reason the seventh and fifth didn't was because of the tests. Either way, it meant Alan had only had two hours of sleep at best, disturbed by nightmares of last year. His head felt like someone had used it as an anvil, and he couldn't concentrate at all.

He pinched himself again and glared down at the most recent question. It was clear for about thirty seconds before his vision went hazy again. His head throbbed it's worst yet; he pressed his hands to his face and it felt like his right eye was replaced by acid. Red light washed over his eyelids as he began to panic, images cleared behind his eyes. He thought for a minute he was remembering last year again, because a bloody body was curled on the floor before him, shirtless and bloody, pants tattered, but the person lifted their head and Alan's heart stopped.

It was Regulus.

"Another pity there is no one to help you."

Alan growled as Voldemort's sibilant voice crooned.

"You know what I want, Alan. Bring the locket to the Department of Mysteries. Don't you want your Godfather back?"

Alan ground his teeth through the pain. Okay, voices in his head, but he knew whose voice it was. He knew this was a vision, knew Voldemort was in control. But he didn't doubt the truth of it. Alan lashed out, felt the strike cross the barrier and Voldemort, his presence tight on the fringes of Alan's mind, flinched. The image was direct, the connection was direct.

"He will be given back alive, in one piece, or there is no deal. I'll destroy the locket." Alan threw at Voldemort's feeler, "I'll attach it to a portkey so if your bargain's false, you won't get it – it'll go straight to Dumbledore."

Voldemort laughed, but it was bitter. Alan felt the nervousness – the locket was important to him, very important.

"Bring the locket, and you will have your Godfather, alive, and in one piece. Come alone to the Ministry this evening – I'll meet you in the Department of Mysteries, boy."

"Cocky bastard, aren't you?" Alan shot. Voldemort laughed – the feeling was like glass in his mind, and Alan threw the strongest barrier at the shattered wall. Voldemort's presence became strangled, and then fled. The breach sealed immediately, leaving a raw feeling against his mind, and then Alan remembered to open his eyes, that he was in the middle of an OWL.

The light stabbed into his sensitive eyes – his head was throbbing, his eyes tearing up, and he was so disoriented he felt sick. Trying to stand and leave before he vomited on the floor, Alan's head spun. He wasn't aware of hitting the floor until Professor Tofty was standing next to him, looking down at him in concern. Harry turned from his seat ahead of Alan and stared worriedly, his eyes abruptly widening at the sight of Alan's face. Alan didn't ask what he saw; his right eye was burning furiously and must have been very red. He could feel the tears still weeping down his face. Weakly, Alan offered,

"Sorry. I fell asleep; I couldn't – couldn't sleep last night, and- " Alan abruptly shut his mouth as the pain crested in his face, making his stomach roil again. "Please, hospital wing?" He weakly whispered.

Professor Tofty didn't hesitate, and pulled him out of the room. Alan couldn't bring himself to try and stand, and Professor Tofty finally huffed. "I'm sorry, son, but I can't carry you. You can either try to walk, or I can use a levitating spell. Are you sure you wish to leave your exam as it is?"

Alan nodded weakly, and attempted to stand again. He was easily taller than the examiner, and as he carefully regained his balance, he sighed heavily, and nodded again, stronger. "I'm no good at History. That'll be as much as I can get done. I think I can walk on my own, but …"

"I'll escort you." He nodded, and led the way up to the Hospital wing.

Alan followed with shaking limbs, trying to control his impending panic. When Harry had told him – how long ago, a month, two? – that Aurors had captured Regulus, he had thought it couldn't get worse. He'd heard from Geoffrey that Regulus had disappeared from the holding cells, and he'd been worried, but Geoffrey had lit into him that everyone was looking for him – he was hauling in some of his siblings and the reserves at Salem, so Alan should just focus on school, and Alan, confident in their ability, had believed him and subsided. He could forgive Geoffrey and Severus for not having time to talk, not filling him in, and with the amount of homework he had, he didn't miss them so he hadn't ever pressed. He had thought they'd found Regulus, and he'd just missed them when they could've told him. Now …

"Here, son. Just inside, alright?"

Alan smiled at the old professor and nodded, slipping inside and approaching Pomfrey, who was sitting at her desk, reading over some papers. Professor Tofty left him there to return to supervising the test. Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she looked up at him.

"Why Mr. Prince, you of all people I hadn't expected to get worked up over a test. Sit on the bed over there, and I'll get you something to calm you down."

Alan sat obediently. A calming draught would not hurt right now, and he needed to think. He had to tell someone; he was not walking into this alone, and he needed to figure out how to get the locket and a portkey activator, because he knew the locket had been destroyed with basilisk venom months ago. Why didn't … Regulus hadn't been informed. He'd been too worked up over Alan and Voldemort. Alan knew of it's destruction because Severus had told him Dumbledore had asked for all his stored basilisk venom, and Severus had demanded to know what it was for. To destroy Voldemort, Severus had given up them all, and gone back to arguing with Green for some of what he'd drawn. So Regulus didn't know, so Voldemort didn't know. God, how… What…

Alan clutched his head and moaned again. Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue, and stepped over to the shelves to get a calming draught. She handed it over and sighed. "Here, Alan. A calming draught."

Alan drank it without complaint, feeling his thoughts slow and his muscles loosen. His stomach stopped cramping and his face relaxed. Alan quickly rubbed his hands over his face, and mumbled something about a mirror. Pomfrey snorted, and pointed him to the bathroom. Alan stood and went quickly, looking up at the mirror with a sigh. His right eye was very red, but fortunately most people would think it was because he'd fallen asleep with his hands pressed against his face – which must have been what it looked like. The potion had also left his mind feeling more together, and the barricade he'd erected was slowly integrating back into his Occlumency shields as a solid wall over the small gap Voldemort had found that led clean through the idle thoughts he allowed for perusal and shunted into the back of his mind where he kept his secrets. He wasn't trying for subtlety there. He did not want Voldemort in his mind, much less past his shields. Alan felt momentarily scared. Voldemort would know he had more to his mind than the front he had seen in the Graveyard. He wouldn't be fooled again.

Madam Pomfrey knocked on the door. "Alan, don't tell me you fainted in there."

Alan smiled. Madam Pomfrey had enjoyed teaching their group several healing spells; it had assuaged her feelings of uselessness with Umbridge controlling the students so cruelly. He stepped out and smiled weakly at her.

"No, I didn't faint. Just thinking." Alan looked around, but there were no curtained beds. "Isn't McGonagall here?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "No, she was transferred to St. Mungos. Four stunners to the chest, at her age … She could easily have died. She's there for the time being. Why, Alan?"

Alan bit his lip. "Nothing." He sourly growled. Madam Pomfrey didn't press, and Alan turned, thanked her, and left. She watched him go with a face full of worry, but Alan had nothing to say to relax her.

Stalking through the mildly crowded corridors, Alan growled under his breath. Severus, Geoffrey, and McGonagall were gone. Dumbledore was gone. Hell, Hagrid was gone. There were no Order members in the school anymore, and he would have to waste time trying to find someone on his mirror. Alan turned down a secret passage and started running. It was only a few hours after noon. He'd have to get everyone together before evening if he wanted any help for himself.

Bursting out by the dorms, Alan stalked down and gave the password, storming through the common room in such a blatant mood that nobody challenged him. He dropped into his dormitory, grateful for it being empty and uncaring that his friends were going to panic for several minutes trying to find him, and pulled out his mirror.

"Severus."

Nothing.

"Geoffrey. Ginger." Neither one. "Green." Unsurprising. He didn't take his mirror into experiments, and that took up half his time. However, Alan wasn't feeling very charitable, and he growled out, "Andrew."

Nothing. That worried him. Andrew always had his mirror. "Andrew!" Alan cried out in frustration, and then shouted, "Lyall!"

The dark blonde woman yelped and snatched up her mirror. "Alan! What are you doing yelling at me?"

"Sorry. Nobody's answering their mirrors." Lyall always knew where someone was if they'd mentioned it to anyone. She was an excellent coordinator.

Lyall blinked. "You need somebody?" Alan merely nodded. "Oh dear. I know that Geoffrey and Severus are doing something at the Ministry, Green's in an experiment and all. What are you needing?"

Alan couldn't make heads or tails of that. How could Voldemort get into the ministry if all his family was there? "What? How can they be at the ministry?"

Lyall bit her lip, and then yelped. "Oh! They're probably at the Embassy. It's for dealing with foreigners, because there's still that issue about Regulus going missing and then Velorian offing some pureblood yesterday that they're trying to keep quiet."

"Wait, what?" Alan gasped. "Velorian killed someone?"

"Oh, you hadn't heard? Lucius Malfoy. Apparently he killed him when he brought the Lestranges in for the little 'talk' they'd planned. The lady said something wrong and Velorian picked a fight, killing both men and Lucius, and wounding her badly. Koreol came in, though, and she Avada'd Andrew. Velorian panicked and she got away." Lyall hurried to continue. "Andrew's doing fine, he's just weak and feeling sick. He'll be picking himself up for a week or so before he'll be back to his normal antics, but either way there's a load of Aurors and probably your father and uncle with Ginger watching that in the Embassy, somewhere apart from the regular Ministry." She snorted. "The Ministry's probably quiet for once in a blue moon."

Alan was feeling cold. He quietly thanked Lyall and cut the line before he breathed carefully through his nose. He was almost certain Voldemort had planned this, somehow. He must have set off Velorian on purpose by sending the Lestranges. So many others could have gone, namely someone less important, and he chooses the half-insane woman and her husband and brother-in-law. He hoped their deaths hit him hard. However, it ensured everyone was out of the Ministry quickly, and ensured there'd be an argument way into the night. Geoffrey and Ginger and Severus would be there the entire time, and probably when it finished everyone would just go home, leaving the Ministry open and vulnerable -

And Alan friendless. Or so they would think. Fruitlessly, Alan tried to call Lily, but he supposed she would be with her husband dealing with Velorian's little mess, as would Sirius, Frank, and Alice. Lupin was probably out …

"Ginger!" Alan shouted. Grimmauld Place would not be empty and Ginger would have left her mirror for her children. At least he could leave a message for reinforcements. "Ginger, one of your kids better pick up your mirror, dammitall! Ginger!"

"Okay, okay, what are you yelling for already!" Adam's face appeared in the mirror and he grimaced. "Alan, what are you yelling about?"

"Adam, are there any adults there currently?"

Adam frowned and shook his head. "Ms. Vance was watching us, but one of her friends told her she had to come hear this long-winded argument going on in some place called the Embassy – apparently it's not happening often – and she believed Sean what he told her we'd be fine. So now I'm having to run all over the place trying to keep them in line because I don't know how to find nobody and can't bring anybody in."

Alan wondered how much trouble Emmeline would be in with Ginger. Oh, he did not want to witness that argument. "Alright, Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry to put more on your shoulders, but you have to write this message down and give it to the first adult to show back up there, tell them it has to get to Dumbledore or one of the Aurors or Lupin right away, alright?"

"Sure!" Adam nodded enthusiastically and carried the mirror over to the desk, where he picked up one of Geoffrey's pens and pulled over the notepad. "Shoot."

Alan took a deep breath and considered his options. "Voldemort is in the Department of Mysteries."

Adam repeated it, and then paused. "Alan, how do you spell 'Voldemort'?"

Alan chuckled. How many kids asked that? Most of the people here flinched at the sound of his name. Alan quickly spelled it for him, and waited as he finished that line, thinking up the rest. "And Adam?" Alan quickly clarified. "Don't panic, all right? I'm doing something about this, but to continue, 'He has asked for the locket in exchange for Regulus Black.'"

"No!" Adam cried.

"Adam, it's being taken care of. You have to get this to someone so they can do more, alright?" Alan scolded. Adam subsided slowly and continued writing, nodding as he finished. "I, Alan, am going after him with a fake locket, leaving at about six. I'd appreciate some backup, please."

Adam snickered. "You want it written like that?"

"Sure." Alan shrugged. Adam finished, and then read it back,

"Voldemort is in the Department of Mysteries. He has asked for the locket in exchange for Regulus Black. I, Alan, am going after him with a fake locket, leaving at about six. I'd appreciate some backup, please." Adam looked back through. "What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

Alan rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Stuff I really don't care about right now. All that matters is that it's got Regulus."

"You'll get him out of there?"

Alan looked up and found Adam staring through the mirror at him, wide-eyed. Alan smiled weakly for him. "Yeah, I'm getting him out."

IIII

Alan thanked everything he knew that Crookshanks liked him. He'd have never found the cat flap into Gryffindor otherwise. He slipped inside pretty easily, and then just trotted across the common room. He hadn't expected anyone to pick him up, but a black-haired girl happily scooped him off the floor.

"Ginny, Arachne is so cute you know."

Alan cursed Blaise for getting that dark little kneazle cross for Ginny. He had to pick one that resembled his animagus form. Ginny plucked him from the girl's arms and sighed. She then held him out and frowned. "This isn't Arachne, Romilda. She's too dark, and it's male too." Alan was very glad cats could not blush, because the head rush was making him dizzy. Irritably, he struggled out of Ginny's arms, and then ran up the stairs, hearing a bunch of questions flowing behind him. He almost ran into Neville, who reached down to catch him again.

"Arachne, you get everywhere." Neville sighed quietly. Alan heard no one in the stairs, and struggled to get down, but Neville held on quite well. "Stop fighting, girl." He shifted his hold and carried him down the stairs, securely tucked in his arms. Alan fumed. Neville was wasting his time! "Ginny, Arachne was getting into our dorm again. Keep your pretty kitty in line, will you?"

"Neville, oh. That's not Arachne. That's someone else's cat. He isn't smooth like her, and male too. I think it's a full kneazle, look at his tail."

Neville blinked, and abruptly looked down at the cat. Alan glared back, growling in the back of his throat and lashing his tail. Neville's eyebrows shot up, and he nodded. "Oh, okay. Maybe he's a Slytherin's, then because I was sure I recognized him." Alan calmed immediately, hoping Neville got the picture. As the common room rumbled over the comment, Neville turned around and slipped back upstairs, sitting on his bed and letting Alan go with a sigh. Alan scampered away and looked around, but there was no one in the dorm. Neville sighed.

"Harry's out with your Slytherins, looking for you. What were you needing that you came up here, Alan?"

Alan changed back and frowned. "I needed to talk to Harry, but I suppose you can look too. Can you contact your parents or his with your mirrors? I've only got Lily on mine."

Neville frowned, but pulled the mirror out of his bedside table and listing the names of the Marauders. No one answered, not even Lupin. Neville looked up and shook his head. "Why did you need them? What happened, anyways? You fell out of your chair pretty heavily, and you looked sick. Harry said your eyes were inflamed." Neville was frowning firmly. "Although I don't believe I've had that particular explained yet."

Alan frowned. "I don't suppose that's gotten very far, has it?"

"Has what?" Neville frowned. His tone was dangerous. Alan smiled thinly.

"There was a prophecy made, fifteen years ago." Alan explained. "One boy would destroy the Dark Lord." Neville had gone very still. "You know it?"

"Of it." Neville answered quietly. "It was either me, or Harry. I can't remember why."

"Child born at the end of July, to parents who have thrice defied him." Alan said quietly. "My birthday was sometime after midnight, Aug 1st. My mother had refused the advances of a man named Tom Riddle, three times. My father won't speak of his part in it. Voldemort attacked my mother and I. He killed her when she defended me. He then attacked me. His spell hit my right eye. I should be blind, but my magic compensates. It's how I knew you were reading the Occlumency book, because I could 'see' you had it magicked and could make an educated guess."

"It's how you knew Jonas' spell failed on several of us, I presume?" Neville queried. He looked pale. Alan merely nodded, and then sighed.

"Either way, there's a connection between me and Voldemort. I got that vision Christmas when I saw Mr. Weasley get attacked." Neville nodded, looking like he was putting a number of pieces together. "I got another during History of Magic." Alan quietly answered. "Voldemort has Regulus. He wants me to come to the Department of Mysteries with the locket, to trade it for Regulus' life."

"So you're looking for someone to tell." Neville asked. Alan shook his head.

"With your attempt, there's nobody within contact. I've tried everybody, but Lyall told me they're all at some Embassy."

"They only use that for the big crimes by foreigner's. Did Geoffrey do something?" Neville asked.

"No, Velorian did." Alan watched Neville carefully. "He was with Lucius, you remember, and trying to find out about the Death Eaters. Apparently Lucius wanted him to meet a few others during the recruiting, and … the Death Eaters he brought were the Lestranges." Neville stiffened immediately, and Alan looked down at his hand. "Something went wrong; I suspect one of them said something and Velorian lost it. He killed Lucius and the Lestrange brothers and seriously injured Bellatrix, but she got away when Koreol and Andrew arrived in concern for Velorian – Koreol knows what's going on with him all the time. Bellatrix A. Andrew – he's not dead, just weak, because he's a vampire – and then she got away. The Aurors have Velorian in custody for killing Lucius, but he's both willing to take veritaserum and has a lot of friends in the Aurors. He'll be fine, they just have to hear him out. With the current politics, it could take days."

Neville nodded slowly, and then gave Alan a cautious look. "You're going after him yourself, aren't you? And you want help."

Alan watched Neville and then nodded slowly. He was hoping Neville would agree. He was the strongest student after him and Harry, and with him and Blaise going along, they'd be at a much better advantage than they would otherwise. Besides, Harry had that excellent cloak.

Neville sighed, and the walked to Harry's trunk, quickly unlocking it and fishing out the cloak and the revised Map. "We'll want to get the twins to cover our absence. If you can, I'd get Ginny, Nanna and Melanie to work some interference as well, maybe including Dillan and Jonas."

"I think the twins and Jonas would do perfectly find on their own." Alan drawled. "You remember the mess Jonas made several weeks ago."

"Was it all just to get at the Inquisitorial Squad?" Neville asked quietly.

"Yes. Do you have any idea how many detentions he's gotten? Mind, he's earned them all over the years, but he's fucking pissed off about it. I suspect that's why Umbridge hasn't been killed, because he earned them and even his parents agree, but if they saw the damage, well …" Alan shrugged. "I suspect Umbridge won't be around when September comes."

Neville smiled surprisingly warmly. "I'll have to tell my parents to send a thank you card when it happens."

Alan snorted.

Neville quickly consulted the map and nodded. "Yours are going downstairs; Harry's coming back this way. Is Blaise likely to have his mirror on him?"

"We always do. Draco's searched our dorm several times but he can't seem to figure out the fake bottom to my trunk, so we haven't lost anything. But since we need the mirrors all the time, we keep them on ourselves. May I use yours? I don't have a connection to Blaise."

Neville nodded, and pulled out a second mirror, handing it over. Alan smirked. "You know, if you spell the mirrors together they can merge, so you only need to use one mirror to get to all your contacts."

"What about others calling in on another mirror?"

"You get beeped at, and the corners go black. I'll talk you through it later. It's a spell Velorian taught me." Alan addressed the mirror, "Blaise you ninny hammer. Pick up your mirror."

Swearing came through, and then Blaise's face showed up. "Alan, what are you doing and where are you?"

"Guess." Alan said dryly. "I'm using Neville's mirror. I'm in the Gryffindor dorms."

Blaise looked tongue-tied for several minutes and then took a long, deep breath. "Okay, we'll skip the how you got in there and go straight to the what the Hell happened?"

Alan sighed. "I got another vision. Voldemort has Regulus in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. I can't find anyone, so I'm going after it. I left a message at Grimmauld telling them."

Blaise gaped and then sighed and rubbed his temples. "This is just freaking scary, Alan, how you and trouble get together and make babies." Alan raised his eyebrow at the phrase and Blaise flushed. "Where do you want me, Alan?"

Alan smiled; he admired Blaise's loyalty. He would only ever tease him about it if he had a good escape plan and didn't need a big favour, though. "I need you to come with me, but drop by Luna on your way up to let her know where we're going. I don't want her worrying. And drop a note by Jonas, too, that I need him to create some chaos with the twins – Wait. Don't tell him. We'll incite the twins into getting him if they can and ask only if he doesn't reciprocate."

Blaise nodded seriously – Neville was fighting down snickers as he watched Harry's progress. Alan looked over at the map, "Can you find Luna?"

"She's under a tree outside, over by the Whomping Willow." Neville answered. "You do realize Ginny is unlikely to just stay here and run interference, especially if her boyfriend is going?"

Alan shrugged. "We can take her if she insists, but I don't want too many people going. Where are the twins?"

"Just coming into the common room. Want me to snag them in the hall?"

"Yes. Get them to pass the word to everyone, we need to leave."

Neville stood and stuck head immediately out the door and hollered, "Fred! George! I got a question for you!"

The twins thundered up the stairs and Alan heard them immediately start talking in low whispers. Alan didn't bother trying to follow, as he relayed Luna's location to Blaise, and then picked up the map. Umbridge was stalking a Care of Magical Creatures class with Professor Grubbly-Plank, and Severus and Geoffrey's offices, quarters, and classrooms were empty. Jonas, interestingly enough, was walking over to where Luna and Blaise were just re-entering the castle. Alan wasn't sure whether to be worried or amused. Either way…

Neville came back in, and Alan watched Harry trot into the Common Room and get waylaid by Ginny. Neville sighed and looked back over at him.

"Well?"

Alan handed him the map. "Can't walk through your common room in these clothes." He indicated his silver sheen shirt, black pants and green and silver school tie. His pants were even pressed – he was going to kill Blaise for talking to the house elves about his wardrobe. But he looked every inch the Slytherin prince.

Neville snorted. "No, I'd say not."

Alan transformed into the small dark kneazle, and then jumped and clambered up Neville's robes to his shoulders. He'd determined from Blaise that the robes were thick enough that he could climb them without clawing someone. As Neville didn't complain, Alan sat up as steadily as he could and yowled. Neville laughed quietly and walked down the stairs, careful of Alan's balance. The stairs were a challenge, but he stayed on and mewled again when he saw Harry, leaping off Neville's shoulders and clambering up Harry's as well. He loved being able to do that. Harry laughed, and scratched his ears, opening his mouth to ask, and then closing it as Alan dug his claws in. Harry smiled wryly.

"How did you get up here, eh? Neville, how did Lucille's cat make it into the Gryffindor dorms?"

Alan almost coughed. Lucille's pet?

Neville kept a straight face as he answered, "No idea, but he's apparently got some kind of hairball to deal with. She'd probably appreciate getting him back."

Harry nodded as though it made perfect sense, even though Alan knew that they both knew Lucille had no familiar. Ginny's curious expression told him she knew it as well. She was probably going to follow them. It was fine, though. The Weasley girl was clever, resourceful, and he was fairly sure she had a small cache of Mimi's Fever Dream because Blaise had reported her asking for the Jabberwocky venom. Alan tugged on Harry's robe, and then nodded at Ginny, then up the stairs. Harry frowned, clearly not getting it, and Alan glanced between them and leaped off, hoping like Hell he could get up the stairs without setting off the alarms.

"Hey, get back here! Ginny, would you?"

"I got it."

Alan made it up the stairs and wondered where to find Ginny's room. She was fourth year … He ducked into the fourth floor, and looked around, sniffling slightly. She did have a distinct smell … something like the twins, so…

Alan jumped onto the bed at the far wall and looked around. Ginny came in and huffed. "Alright kitty, whatever you are-"

Alan glanced at her, and changed back. Ginny squeaked. There was no one else in there, so Alan felt safe and he just grinned. "Thought I'd find some way to talk you into bringing your Mimi's with you." Alan said. "We're going to be leaving, and since Neville is quite convinced you won't stay here, it'd be best. If you will stay, we could certainly use them either way."

Ginny blinked several times, and then huffed. "You will explain." She stated, and then dug into her trunk, pulling out a small bag that clinked as she pocketed it. Alan changed back, and Ginny picked him up and then blushed. "Oh … sorry about earlier." She murmured. Alan wished she hadn't reminded him of it.

Rejoining the two boys, Neville opened the portrait and led the way out, moving into the corridors before he glanced down at the Map, and then at Ginny. Irritably, Ginny huffed. "I know its Alan. He showed himself because he wanted me to fetch my Mimi's for when I joined you guys on whatever you're doing this time around."

Neville paused, and then looked down at Alan. "You know, he was surprisingly calm when he informed me of … the problem."

Alan snorted, and looked up at him with what he hoped was disdain. Harry looked between them, and shrugged. "If you remember, Neville, he left the exam looking like he got run over by a hippogriff. Pomfrey probably gave him a calming draught."

Alan nodded sharply and then stared at the Map, before he looked around the corridors and squirmed out of Ginny's arms. Once down, he changed back.

"Yeah, she gave me one. Harry, Voldemort has Regulus. He wants me to meet him in the Department of Mysteries with the locket in exchange for his life."

Harry stared wide-eyed at him for a long moment, and then coughed. "That's one Hell of a calming draught."

Alan snorted and moved between Harry and Neville, looking down at the Map. "Blaise is waiting in the passage by the entrance hall, with Luna." Alan huffed. He did not want Luna coming along, but he suspected he would have as much luck talking her out of it as Blaise would have with Ginny. "Right. Let's go – wait." Alan traced a name running up the hidden stairwell, and quickly pulled aside the curtain. Salvador stumbled out, and fell against Alan. He startled, tried to pull away, and Alan quickly growled, "Salvador, cut it out. What's with you?"

Salvador blinked, and stopped, but his body was rigid with tension. "I'm fucked, Alan. I've got detention again. I'm not doing it; I'm leaving once I can get out of the god-be-damned school. I won't be tortured, alright?"

Alan paused to think quickly, and then sighed. "I'm out of the school for the time being anyways; come with us. Harry, can he use your cloak?" Salvador was a year older, quick, and intelligent. He would not turn him down as more backup. He was remarkably out of sorts that he was freaking out like this. And what on earth was he doing, going upstairs?

Harry nodded, moved to speak, and smiled wryly when Neville handed it over. "Gee, divvy out my stuff without even asking, why don't you."

Neville merely nodded and Salvador hesitated before wrapping the cloak around himself and disappearing. Alan asked of the empty space, "How's Lucille? She avoiding detentions?"

"Er, yeah, and she's pissed off at me at the moment. It was half-responsible for the detention I've got."

"How'd you piss Lucille off?" Harry asked.

"I'd rather not say." Salvador hedged. "Suffice to say, I'm in the doghouse."

Harry, Alan and Neville traded looks and sighed. They kept walking, not adding more to the conversation as the amount of students around them thickened. Harry looked over his shoulder, and Alan presumed that Salvador had moved in between their staggered group in order to avoid the students moving down to dinner; it frustrated him that he couldn't see Harry's cloak. They got a few looks, but nobody lingered. While it was still surprising to them that Alan and Harry were friends, it wasn't commented upon. However …

"Prince, haven't you learned yet?" Draco sneered. He stalked over and, completely ignoring Harry, Neville and Ginny, grabbed Alan's collar. It wasn't the most successful move; Alan was at least two inches taller than Draco, and perfectly capable of glaring down his nose at the tow-headed ferret.

"No, apparently I haven't." Alan easily answered, smiling thinly. "And you know what? I doubt it'll matter if I ever learn." Alan tilted his head, and wondered why Draco was being so belligerent. He couldn't … could he be that cruel?

"I know you must be at least mildly interested, but honestly. Neville's got to be a better whore than Harry, but just because you're desperate doesn't mean you need to keep at it. Once should be enough, from what Lavender says."

Alan's reservations disappeared, and he quickly held up his hand to stop Harry and Neville. He gave them a firm glare and turned back to Draco with a cocky grin.

"Maybe you should stop concerning yourself with my life and check up on your own. I think you may have a few more concerns once the Ministry decides they're actually going to admit to their mistakes than I will."

Draco snarled. "You're the one who's in for it, Alan. When my father –"

Alan burst into derisive laughter; he couldn't help it. "Oh Draco, go and update your threats already. I never thought you'd be so behind on the news. Just give it up; it's getting sad and I'm going to start feeling sorry for you." Alan crooked his finger at Harry, and Harry obediently cast a quick stunner. Draco's eyes, which had just become confused, rolled into the back of his head as he fell, Alan neatly stepping out of the way. Alan nodded at them, and then jerked his head towards the door. Several students were running out through the halls, and Alan quickly spoke, "Run."

They left the front doors easily, Blaise and Luna joining them as they moved quickly across the grounds. Blaise caught up with Alan, "Why are you running?"

"Stunned Draco to get out, the little shit."

"Isn't that a bit stupid?"

"His father's dead, with two Lestranges in his house and Velorian likely taking Veritaserum. The whole game's humped. Besides, if everything plays out like I suspect," Alan took a deep breath. "The Ministry's going to have a lot more proof of the Dark Lord than they'll ever want."

Blaise eyed him carefully, but they were close to the forest, and most of their group was getting tired. As they stopped, Salvador tripped over the cloak and fell, crying out sharply. Alan stepped back to help him up, but when he accidentally brushed his back, Salvador flinched away with a hiss. Alan blinked, and pulled the cloak off. Several portions of Salvador's robes were tacky, sticking to his shirt. Alan's brow furrowed. "Salvador …"

"Alan, back off." Salvador stiffly stood, and stepped back, glaring. "I'm coming with you to get away from the school. That's it. I'm not asking for your help."

Alan frowned, and then nodded curtly. "Fine. Although I have to wonder what you were doing, going upstairs." He turned and led the way again, lobbing the invisibility cloak at Neville who caught it easily, and gave it to Harry to put away, shrunken, in his pocket. Alan fixed Salvador with a raised eyebrow.

Salvador growled softly. "I was being tailed by Filch, and that was the only passage I found to duck into and lose him with. Trust me, I'd tried all the others."

Alan nodded shortly and walked past him, leading the way into the forest until he was confident they were out of sight. The others looked over at him with curious looks. Alan sighed.

"Sorry, I'm not even sure why we're out here other than that it's out of the sight of the school."

"Do you even know where the Ministry is?" Blaise sneered.

"Sorta." Alan offered. "I went there once. That's what Harry and Neville are for."

Harry and Neville glanced at each other warily. "We're usually apparating in with our parents." Harry offered. "I think that's a little out of our range. You know how to make a portkey?"

Alan blinked, and then swore. He'd forgotten the goddamn necklace! Quickly, Alan conjured a replica; he'd heard Regulus describe it often enough to know what it looked like, and what it was made of. To it he added a ring, simple, girly, with a generic magic signature - classic auror work. According to Regulus, his conjuration should last at least two days; since he only needed several hours, it should be fine. After a moment, Alan added the unidentifiable spell to the locket, hoping to disguise that it was a conjured fake by making it seem to have an unknown, indecipherable spell cloaking it. After a minute, Harry asked again.

"Was that a yes, or a no?"

"Sorry." Alan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, undoing the clasp and placing the necklace around his throat. "No, I don't know how. I just needed to make the locket."

Harry chuckled quietly, and shook his head. "So we have no clue how we're getting there?"

"Brooms might work." Salvador offered. "But I don't know how long it might take."

Alan sighed again. "But how would we find our way there?" Salvador shrugged. Silence reigned for several minutes, and Alan began to fidget in frustration. This was beginning to feel like a really bad idea, but what else could they do? Something rumbled farther into the forest, and everyone stared, startled. A snake darted out of the underbrush, hissing furiously. Alan paused to listen,

"Stupid huge man-thing, scaring everything off, destroying and damaging and waking everything up, bringing hooves down upon us, and driving food from their homes-" It slithered into the other bush, but Harry's face was a bit of a study. Alan raised his eyebrow, and Harry huffed.

"I can't really say."

Alan focused on him, and hissed, "Tell me."

"Hagrid brought his half-brother back with him when Dumbledore sent him to the giants." Harry answered easily, his sibilant vowels in parseltongue familiar as Alan's own voice. "Apparently he's making a ruckus in the forest."

Alan rubbed his forehead, commenting quietly, "Hagrid is an idiot."

That Harry didn't argue spoke volumes.

Alan ran his hand down his neck, and jumped when Luna reached up and pulled his head down. He didn't have time to react before she kissed him. Alan couldn't bring himself to argue, but he sighed when she let him go.

"Luna, we don't really have time for this."

"Of course we do. Luck comes when you least expect it. When you stopped looking for it, it came. Look around."

Alan looked up, and almost stopped breathing. Behind Salvador was a thestral staring gloomily at Alan before stretching forward. Alan didn't think he needed it spooked, so he quickly spoke, "Salvador, you're going to be licked."

Salvador blinked, and then stiffened as the thestral licked his shirt. He bit his lip and fisted his hands quickly. Neville was staring as well, but the rest of them looked confused. As soon as the pressure stopped, Salvador stepped out of reach and stared at the right spot, but with a stiffness that made Alan suspect he couldn't see them. Alan had to admit that had to be eerie.

"Oh, Salvador. You brought another one." Luna happily sang. "We need five more, I think."

As Alan saw another approach, he moved forward quickly and grabbed Salvador's shoulder. He let his eyes firm until he was confident Salvador would obey him. "You're bleeding enough to attract carrion eaters. Take off your shirt and let me heal it."

Salvador opened and closed his mouth, and then turned and pulled his shirt up bit by bit, the fabric sticking to the congealed blood. Alan gently deflected the nearest threstral's muzzle, and eyed the wounds. He felt sick just looking at them. It was actually less than he'd expected; Salvador had apparently just bled for a while, rather than a lot, but the bruising was still dark, split skin over deep purple bruises – it looked black under his already dark brown skin. Recalling the spells Pomfrey had taught them, and physiology he'd first learned from Green, Alan gently tapped Salvador's shoulders, murmuring the words and watching the magic make Salvador's skin warp to his eyes. As the haze passed down, the bruising lightened and disappeared beneath his colouring, and the blood caked and scabbed, curling on the edges in several long stripes across his shoulders and lower back, some extraneous blood slowly flaking off. Salvador hissed.

"That itches like a sonuvabitch, Alan."

"It's healing, Salvador. It's less sore, right?"

"I'm just itchy, is all. That spell's damn good. Which one was it?"

"The one for a week's healing. I'm doing the next as well, for that itching problem." Alan brought it to mind, and practiced his silent casting – admittedly mostly because the pronunciation escaped him. The scabs disappeared into Salvador's back, leaving behind off-white scars. Alan frowned; it shouldn't have scarred. He huffed, though, and let it be. He couldn't be perfect. "I suppose that's the best it'll get. You're still a little bruised, though, and that dried blood …"

Alan was about to cast a scouring charm, when the nearest thestral darted in again and licked the dried blood away. Alan watched it warily, and rested a hand on its muzzle. Thestrals would bite if they were particularly hungry, or something smelled like food to them. Salvador had been quite bloody; that tended to strike them as 'food'.

"Salvador … are you attached to that shirt?" Alan asked quietly.

"Not anymore, no." Salvador held it up, and it hung damply.

"Good. Offer it to the thestrals, please. We need to get you to not smell like food, or one of them is going to try taking a bite and find out that you technically are."

Salvador didn't need telling twice. He turned and lifted to bloody shirt close enough to the one that had been licking his back, and then turned his other arm around and used the cleaning charm on himself, getting the dried blood off his back, the scars pale and gleaming. Alan frowned again; he did not like those. He couldn't change them, and it bugged him. However, they had to get moving. Alan turned to look around, and sighed in satisfaction as he counted the thestrals: there were seven, one for each and as he watched, another came out of the forest. Alan quirked his lips,

"Looks like we have our ride. Neville, would you try for your parents again? I'm going to try for mine."

Neville nodded and pulled out his mirror, calling for the Marauders. Alan tried for his family again, but got no one. Ginger's mirror was immediately picked up by Adam who shook his head, his eyes dark with worry. Alan reassured him he was looking out for himself, and was taking several others who were just as strong as he was with him, letting the boy go with the admonition to give the message to the first adult he saw. When Alan looked up from it, Neville shook his head.

"Shit. Can anyone think of anything else they think I should try?" Alan looked around, and Luna breezily offered,

"Have you tried to find an adult?" Alan nodded. "Double-checked?" He nodded again, getting a little impatient. "We've covered our tracks so we won't get in trouble if it's all a hoax?" Alan swallowed, but thought about it and nodded carefully. "We have an escape plan?"

Alan thought about it a moment. "Are the thestrals likely to wait for us to come out?"

Luna nodded happily, and Harry also quietly agreed.

"Then yes, we can escape if we can get in and out. However, I'm willing to bet that since he 'invited' me, I'm going to be given an escort in."

"We'll follow behind you. You have the mirror between us?" Harry asked immediately. Alan raised his eyebrow and flashed the item in question. Harry stuck out his tongue and continued. "Then you might be able to use that. We'll have to think of several complex spells … is there anything you can think of that would allow you to give the basic message of 'get your asses in here'?"

Neville grunted, and then quickly searched his pockets. Several eyes moved his way, and he finally came out with a quill. Quickly, he cast a transfiguration, making it into a long silver chain he swore at and spelled again. After a moment's observation, Neville duplicated it and handed one over to both Harry and Alan.

"Hermione was looking up the protean charm, and I remembered it just as you were saying that. When something happens to Alan's chain, on accident or purpose, it will happen to Harry's. It's a little weak because of all the magic I used on it besides the charm, but it should hold well enough for the evening."

Alan eyed the chain with respect, and then looked at Neville. "So if my chain breaks, Harry's will break?"

"And vice versa." Neville nodded.

"Good job, Neville." Salvador offered. "So, we going to go risk our lives for some as yet unknown –to me, at least – reason?"

Alan closed his eyes and nodded. "Voldemort has Regulus, my godfather. He wants me to bring him the locket in exchange for Regulus' life, and he wants me to come alone."

Salvador managed to pale quite impressively for being black. "Oh." He offered quietly. Alan looked calmly at him; Salvador had been disowned for being unwilling to follow Voldemort, as his family had wanted.

"You don't have to come, Salvador. You can just leave as you'd been planning before and no one here will think less of you. Since you're not bleeding, you've got a better chance than you had previously. You can even use one of these thestrals to get where you want to go."

Salvador looked like he was seriously considering it, and then he stopped and shook his head violently. "Lucille would kill me if I let you go without following. I've got my apparation license, too. I'll help, Alan. Count me in."

Alan smiled weakly, and then nodded at the gathered students. All of them following him, for something that could turn out to be a trap, something he wasn't as sure as he'd like to be wasn't a complete hoax. Regulus could be dead by now, or insane. Voldemort could just as easily take the locket from a corpse as from him alive, and if he died, every one who followed him might easily die as well. It was, in all honesty, a stupid risk.

Alan looked from Harry's firm expression, to Neville's quiet resolve. Blaise and Ginny both were just looking stubborn; Salvador was scared but determined. Luna was simply peaceful, watching him with a small smile and half-lidded eyes. He tried to ask his question with his eyes, but she didn't look at all different. He had to figure this out on his own. Was it worth the risk? Even if Regulus was alive, he'd been missing for two months. Alan felt his throat dry out at the thought. He'd been tortured in the graveyard at the end of last year, a matter of an hour, maybe more; Regulus …

His face twinged again. Alan closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Voldemort would be at the ministry, waiting. If he wasn't there personally someone was, and it was someone he trusted. Someone he valued. Someone it would hurt him to lose.

Could he kill someone like that? In cold blood?

Alan opened his eyes.

"Let's go."

A/N: Cliffhanger! Action! Adventure! Stupidity and Heroics! And of all things, this might even be on time. Hallelujah! Be happy, read, enjoy, and please review? The next few chapters will be Alan's POV, but that's not going to be permanent, so don't worry. He's just in the thick of things while Harry is not - natural reasons for an adjustment. So dearly thank you to you all!

Fire & Napalm