Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to JK Rowling's books.
A/N: Ok, I changed my mind. Writing Quidditch matches are much, much, much more difficult than classroom scenes. It's hard for me to get the action down right, and make it descriptive enough without moving too slowly. I mean, they're whizzing around on brooms at very, very high speeds. You only have so much time to look around and take in the scenery before you hit the ground. J Thanks for reading, by the way.
00000000000 Chapter 24: Halloween 000000000000
"She's staring again," Harry hissed to Hermione. His friend looked up, looked over at the Hufflepuff table, and then smirked at him, rolling her eyes.
"Harry," she said. "Stop obsessing about it!"
Harry turned to Ron, realizing that Hermione wasn't going to understand. "She's staring at me again, Ron. Come on, don't you think that's a bit odd?"
Ron grinned at him, and Harry sighed. Ron wasn't going to sympathize either, it seemed. "I think someone's got a crush on you, Harry," Ron told him. Harry glanced up, saw that the girl was still staring, and looked away quickly, blushing. He could have sworn he heard her and her friends giggle, but he wasn't going to look up and check.
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, voice grave. Harry looked up sharply, but Hermione was just staring at him.
"Er…" he said, as she leaned forward across the table and grabbed his hands. "What…?"
"Harry, I know no-one's ever had this talk with you," Hermione said softly, and Harry realized that the corners of Hermione's lips were twitching, as if she was trying hard not to smile.
"Hermione…" he groaned, but she kept staring into his eyes, trying not to smile.
"Harry, when girls get older, they start to realize that the boys they've been going to school with have also grown up," she told him. "And then we girls start to realize that boys aren't quite as gross we thought. Pretty close…but not that bad."
"Hey," Ron growled. Hermione gave him a sweet little smile, and Harry tried again to tug his hands away.
"Very funny, Hermione," he groused.
"Now, now," she said. "What I'm trying to say is that girls might actually think you're cute," she told him, then rolled her eyes. "Who knows why, though?" she asked sarcastically to the ceiling. "Famous, messy black hair, pretty green eyes…"
"They're deep, or vivid or anything," Ron corrected. "Not that I'm looking…ugh…" Ron shook his head. "Great Merlin, calling a bloke's eyes pretty…"
"Harry, you're just going to have to face it," Hermione told him. "Girls might actually want to date you, even. Like Cho did."
Harry pulled his hands away. "You're mean, Hermione," he told her, feeling stupid. "It used to be that everyone just stared at me with either shocked or fearful expressions," he told her. "Now there's just a lot of giggling all the time…"
"Well, I think the boys are all busy staring at the girls that are staring at you," Hermione diagnosed, looking around expertly. "Or glaring at you when they think no one will see them."
"I wish they'd all leave me alone," Harry grumbled. He heard giggles again from the Hufflepuff table, and looked up in time to see a certain Julie Thomas give him a little sympathetic-looking smile and a half-shrug. He smiled weakly at her and looked back down.
"Harry, if we could suddenly make you un-famous, we would," Ron assured him. "I know you don't like it, and it really is a pain in the arse, but honestly you have to live with it. No matter how long Hermione and I hang out with you, you're the one that's going to be famous."
"Thanks for reminding me," Harry grumbled. "Come on," he said. "Don't we have class or something?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione announced. "Professor Murkwater's 'big surprise' is today, so let's get moving."
Harry stood up as Ron stood up, his mind on their coming class. Last week…the same week that Snape had opened his stupid, thoughtless mouth…Murkwater had announced that the next week they'd have a surprise in class. A sort of before-Halloween surprise, Murkwater had called it. Something interesting, Harry hoped. He could do with a distraction, he decided.
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"Everyone stand at the back of the classroom, please," Murkwater said as soon as they came in the door. "I would ask that you have your wands ready and keep on your toes."
Harry glanced at his friends, and he knew they were all wondering the same thing. What was Murkwater planning?
"I bet he's got some sort of monster," Seamus spoke up, nodding knowledgeable. "Something we can practice on, like a troll."
Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed. They'd already faced a troll before, when they were just eleven years old. "We're going to find out in less than a few minutes," Ron said aloud. "We might as well just wait and see."
Harry silently agreed, and pushed his bag against the wall and stood in front of it, wand up and ready to stun whatever might come barreling out of Murkwater's office.
They didn't have to wait long at all. Murkwater's office door rattled, shutting everyone up in an instant, and then it banged open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back roughly.
It was unable to close again, though, because of the large, scaly foot that had come between the door and the jamb. Several girls squealed as they caught sight of the clawed appendage, and Harry's hand tightened on his wand, wondering just what was going to follow that foot.
There was a rattling sound, as if from a heavy chain, and then suddenly Pavarti screamed loudly, as did several other girls.
"N-neat," Seamus said, only stuttering a little. Harry looked over as Dean elbowed Seamus in the side.
"You'd be more convincing if you didn't stutter," Dean muttered, then jumped. Harry looked back, and stared speechlessly at the long serpentine head that slipped through the door and looked around with narrowed, brilliant purple eyes. Long fangs hung from the wide jaw, and Harry was reminded very strongly of the basilisk that he had fought as a twelve year old.
He almost forgot about the huge monster in front of him as he wondered for a moment just what had made him think that he could take on a basilisk as a little kid (not that he'd had much of a choice at the time), but then his attention snapped back as the huge serpent came farther into the room.
Two clawed feet pulled the monstrous thing through the doorway, and Harry noted quickly that it seemed to only have one pair of legs, with rather pathetic looking wings just behind its shoulders. The long, sinuous body followed behind it like a snake, and Harry found himself wondering just what this thing was.
"T-that's not normal," Hermione said softly. Harry glanced over, still keeping his wand on the thing as it came down the short flight of stairs from the office door and slithered towards them. Murkwater was nowhere to be seen.
"Why not?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes on the…thing…once more.
"It-it looks like a cross between a basilisk and a dragon," she told him, seemingly much calmer than most of the rest of the class. Ron didn't look too worried either, Harry realized, and wondered it was just because the three of them had seen so many dangerous situations. "There isn't any such thing!"
"I guess there is now," Ron muttered. "What do you reckon we do?" he asked. Harry realized that Ron was asking him, not Hermione.
"Er…" he said. "Uh, well," he said. He turned to look at the thing. "It sure is a strange looking thing…"
Its head turned sharply. "I am not strange looking!" the thing said. Harry started, then realized that he must have somehow said his last comment in Parsletongue. And it had understood.
"Er…sorry," he told it. "I—I just meant that I've never seen a creature like you before."
The thing stopped in its tracks, ten yards away, and Harry glanced around to see that everyone's eyes were now on him instead of the monster. "Give it a break!" he snapped at them. "It's not attacking, is it?"
He turned back to the creature as it spoke again. "My name is Scemt, little human," the monster said. "I am a Drasilisk."
Scemt narrowed its eyes as it looked around, then looked back at Harry. "We're afraid you're going to attack us," Harry explained.
Scemt hissed strangely, and a moment later Harry realized that the Drasilisk was laughing. "Attack? Never, little human. None of you would make even half of a good mouthful."
Harry wasn't that calmed by those words. He wondered for a moment what this big snake would say if Dudley happened to be in the room… Probably that he'd choke on the grossly overweight teen. "Do you know why Professor Murkwater let you in here?" he asked.
The Drasilisk arched its neck regally. "I am supposed to show you that spells only work on those that are not immune to them."
"Spells can't hurt you?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Well…a few can," Scemt admitted. "Of course, Murk did not mention that there was a little snake-speaker in his class."
"It's not a very common talent among humans," Harry informed Scemt. "I only know one other who can speak Parsletongue."
"Harry…"
"Hmmm….I'm not sure what I should do now," Scemt mused, looking around.
"Harry!"
Harry turned this time, startled, to see most of the class still gaping at him and Ron the only one still watching the Drasilisk. Hermione waiting until he was looking at her fully, and then spoke again. "Harry, what's going on?" she asked. "You know we can't understand you!"
"Er…it says that it was supposed to teach us that some creatures are immune to spells," he explained. "His name's Scemt."
"Very good, Mr. Potter," Murkwater's voice suddenly cut in. The class looked up, and saw that Murkwater was standing in the doorway of his office, smiling and holding his wand. "I must admit that it had slipped my mind that there was someone who could speak snake in this school."
"Scemt wanted to know what he's supposed to do now, sir," Harry told his professor. The man smiled and came down the steps, striding up to Scemt calmly and patting its nose. Most of the class gaped at how the creature hissed gently as the man rubbed its nose, but Harry laughed, able to hear what Scemt was muttering.
"Little to the left…right…up, up, ooooooh right there….keep scratching, silly human…"
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Murkwater seemed to think that it was highly amusing that Harry could chat with the Drasilisk, and spent most of the rest of the class making him translate the class's questions to the serpent. Most of the questions Scemt was quite willing to answer, and by the end of the class he was ready to go.
"Professor Hagrid is going to be returning the…er, Scemt…to his home after class tomorrow, so we won't have a chance to practice our spellwork with him. Instead, we'll hold a small dueling tournament on Thursday in order to practice," Murkwater said above the ringing of the bells announcing the end of class. "I expect all of you to study and review the spells that we have covered…Mr. Potter, if you could stay behind a moment?"
Harry stopped in the act of slinging his bag over his shoulder and turned back to the professor. Hermione and Ron stopped as well, and Murkwater smiled lightly. "I suppose I can't ask to speak to you alone?" he asked. Harry shrugged.
"I guess not, sir," he agreed. Hermione and Ron nodded. Harry knew that his friends weren't going to leave him without having a very, very good reason.
"Well, really…I just wanted to ask you if you'd be willing to come by tomorrow when Hagrid comes to collect…Scemt. It would be much simpler if we could explain what we were doing to him," Murkwater said. Harry got the feeling that the professor hadn't planned on saying that, but he didn't question it.
"Er…sure," Harry agreed. "What time?"
"After classes, at four," Murkwater said. "We'll meet here perhaps?"
"Sure, sir," Harry agreed. He saw Ron shift uncomfortably. "Ron and Hermione will be coming as well, if that's all right."
"Of course, of course," Murkwater said. "I must commend you on such…loyal…friends."
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"Well, that was odd," Ron said, as soon as they were out of earshot. Harry shrugged.
"He wanted to say something else," he said. "I'm really starting to wonder just why he's here."
"I have an idea…" Hermione said slowly. Harry looked over.
"Oh?"
"He wants to talk to you alone," she said. "So what if you went alone tomorrow?"
"No way!" Ron immediately objected. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's protectiveness, and Hermione smacked Ron on the arm.
"Of course not!" she said. "We'll borrow your invisibility cloak, Harry, and follow you," she explained. "He won't know we're there, and then maybe he'll say what he wants to say."
"What if he has ways to detect you?" Harry asked. "He is a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He's supposed to be paranoid and intelligent and all that."
"Well, he probably won't notice, since he won't be suspecting anything, but if he does somehow manage to block us from getting in the room behind you we'll go get Dumbledore," Hermione decided. Harry sighed.
"I hope this is all worth it," he said.
"You want another Quirrell after you?" she asked him sharply. "I for one don't want to take chances."
"All right, all right," Harry said, more to calm down Hermione than anything else.
"We need to get to Potions anyway," Hermione muttered. Harry didn't realize it, but his face had once again fallen into the set expression that he always adopted the moment Potions was mentioned.
"Yeah." Ron's voice held only dread, and Harry nodded. The three were silent the rest of the way down to the dungeons.
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"Hello, Professor," Harry said, stepping into the office. Murkwater looked up from where he was seated at his desk and smiled quickly.
"Mr. Potter," he said. "What happened to your friends?" he asked.
"Hermione has an Arithmancy project due tomorrow morning, and Ron's at Quidditch Practice," he explained. "They're going to meet me as soon as we're finished moving Scemt, sir."
Murkwater nodded, looking like he was thinking quickly. "All right," he said, almost to himself, then looked up again and smiled. "Well, Hagrid should be on his way, and Scemt is waiting for us in my storage room. If you'd follow me?"
Harry nodded and followed after the professor, hoping that Hermione and Ron were somewhere behind him. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in his own abilities to defend himself, but he would have liked to have been certain that he had back up, just in case. Murkwater had done nothing to make himself look suspicious, but Harry wasn't going to take any chances.
"How did the other classes like Scemt, sir?" Harry asked as they went down a short flight of stairs.
Murkwater chuckled, the deep note reverberating off the stones around them. "It seems a certain Mr. Malfoy does not like snakes, despite his house."
Harry smiled, but didn't laugh. "I know a few Gryffindors that fear things like Griffins, so I suppose that that isn't all that odd, sir," Harry mentioned. He didn't want to give Murkwater any information, if possible, even if it was just about his rivalry with Malfoy.
"True, true," Murkwater agreed, then suddenly stopped before the door at the bottom of the stairs. "Mr. Potter, there was a reason yesterday I asked you to stay behind, and really did not want to speak about it with your friends present."
"Sir?" Harry asked, trying to keep his pounding heart under control. Was Murkwater going to attack him or offer him some sort of warning?
"I've noticed over the weeks that your passive spellwork has not been improving as much as it really should," Murkwater said. "You're very good at blocking most minor curses and stunners, but anything more complicated and you seem to freeze up."
"Er…" Harry hadn't been prepared for that line of questioning. "I…well, I just haven't had much time to work on it outside of class," he explained, hoping that was excuse enough. In reality, he'd been holding himself back as much as he could, wanting to work on it alone or with his friends instead. He didn't need Murkwater reporting to Voldemort that he could block certain spells without using any incantations.
If Murkwater was reporting to Voldemort, Harry reminded himself sternly.
"I'd like to arrange a time to work with you alone," Murkwater said. "You're going to need any edge you can get when it comes time to face Voldemort."
"Of course," Harry agreed. "I…well, I don't have much time right now," he hedged. "What with Quidditch, and all of my classes…"
"Surely the wizarding world is more important than some game?" Murkwater asked, looking both surprised and insulted. Harry felt petty and stupid, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to take lessons from Murkwater alone.
"Well, I'm thinking of starting up DA again, too," he said, fishing from excuses. Murkwater studied him for a bit.
"I see," the professor said slowly. "Well…if you change your mind, the offer still stands," the wizard finally said, then turned and pushed open the door.
Harry was quite relieved to see that only Scemt resided on the other side.
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Later that evening, he, Hermione, and Ron went over all that Murkwater had said. Ron and Hermione had heard it all, and they sat for many hours before the fire in the Gryffindor common room trying to decide just what Murkwater had planned. Dumbledore seemed to trust the man, Harry knew, but Dumbledore had been fooled before.
Ginny appeared, and for the first time in weeks Harry realized that he hadn't really spoken to her in a while. "Hello," he said. Ginny looked over and smiled.
"Hey," she said, coming over. "It's been a while since I've talked to all three of you at once."
"Been busy," Harry said. "How are your classes going?"
Ginny grimaced. "OWLs are going to kill me, I've decided," she reported. "In between those and Quidditch and being a prefect, I'm busy all of the time."
"Quidditch match in a few weeks," Ron grumbled quietly. "Don't let homework get in the way of that."
Ginny looked appalled. "Ron! Grades are way more important than Quidditch!"
"No they—" Ron stopped as Hermione glared at him. "Just don't let it make you miss practices."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to, Ronald," she said. "And for your information, I was just with Dean, walking in the courtyard."
Ron gaped, and Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing as Ginny flounced off without another word.
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October 31st came quietly, with Harry unwillingly dragging himself from bed that morning and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He vaguely remembered his dream…something about giant snakes chatting about their classes…and wasn't sure if the Fortress had been in his dreams at all.
Ron was already up, something that Harry was sure was a side-effect of dating Hermione. He filed that thought away absently, planning to use it as ammunition for teasing his friends later, and then slowly got ready for classes. The end of the week was always the worst for him…and today the worst of all.
He couldn't seem to stop thinking about how his parents had died this day, fifteen years previously. And while many of the students spent the day talking about how, fifteen years previously, You-Know-Who had been defeated, all Harry could think about was his mother's echoing screams.
Every time he heard someone whisper that there he was, Harry Potter, the boy that had defeated Voldemort when he was just a little over a year old. And all he wanted to do was tell them all that it had been his mother, not him.
"Last class of the day," Hermione reminded him, as they sat at lunch. His friends, of course, were never cheery for Halloween, and he felt an immeasurable gratitude for that little bit of understanding. "Just live through it, and then the day's over."
"Yeah," Harry agreed heavily. "And the oh-so-generous Captain Ron even gave everyone the day off from Quidditch practice."
Ron shrugged. "We've been practicing hard."
"Every day of the week," Harry said. "I've probably practice more this year than all previous years combined."
"Hufflepuff's got a good seeker this year, I've heard," Ron said. Harry shrugged. "Ravenclaw and Slytherin's match is this weekend."
"And believe me, we'll be there," Ron said, looking determined. "I'm going to pick apart their strategies so much, we'll know what they're going to do before they've even figured it out."
"Sure, Ron," Hermione said, sighing. "Come on, we've got to get going."
Ron stuck his tongue out at Hermione, and Harry had to work hard to swallow his laughter and follow after his friends.
Halfway to the front door, headed out on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, Harry's bag suddenly jerked, and he could only watch in dismay as several jars of ink crashed out of the rip in his bag, followed by his books. "Bloody hell," he growled, stopping and turning back. Hermione and Ron turned back.
"Oh," Hermione groaned."Evanesco," Harry snapped at the ink all over his books. Some of it disappeared, but the rest stubbornly remained. "Go on," he said. "You'll be late if you wait for me, and you can tell Hagrid why I'm late," he told his friends. "I'll be fine."
Hermione bit her lip, looking torn. Harry could just imagine her trying to decide if getting to class on time was more important than waiting around. "Are you sure?"
"Come on," Harry said. "I'm in the entrance hall, there's plenty of people around," he said. He turned back to his bag, examining the ragged rip in the bottom.
"We'll see you in class, then," Hermione said, and Harry nodded, not looking up as he tried to figure out how to put his bag back together properly. He figured he should have gotten a new bag sometime—this was one that Remus had given him with his new stuff. It had belonged to Remus when he had gone to school, and Harry hadn't really noticed but it was pretty worn out, like most of the things that Remus owned.
"Reparo," he said, hoping it would work. Happily, the bag knit back together rather quickly, and he turned back to his stained books. "Evanesco," he tried again, putting a little more force behind it. The rest of the ink faded away from his books…along with several sheets of heavily-soaked parchment. Luckily, all of his textbooks remained intact.
He slowly put all of his books back into his bag, reveling for a bit in the silence of being alone in the hall. Which, of course, made him notice that everyone had long since gone to their classes. He stood with a sigh, knowing that his friends would worry, and shouldered his back once more.
"Potter!"
The sudden shout startled him, and he whipped around just before Malfoy's fist met his nose.
There was a crack sound and to his surprise, he found himself sitting on his butt on the ground, a hand over his now-broken nose. "Ow!" he said stupidly. "What the hell—!"
"What did you do, Potter?!" Malfoy shouted, and Harry had to dodge as Malfoy tried to tackle him. He got to his feet quickly, confused and not wanting to get into a fight now that school had started.
Just because Umbridge's decrees had been rescinded didn't mean that he couldn't be banned from Quidditch again.
And he was definitely more afraid of a Quidditch-crazed Ron than Draco Malfoy.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" he shouted. He dodged again as Malfoy took a swing at him again, but wasn't able to dodge the left hook that dug deep into his neck. He hacked, half-choked, and tried to get past Malfoy. "What's your problem, Malfoy?" he demanded.
A fist caught him in the stomach, right under his ribs, and he reacted. He swung a fist before he could even think about it, and Malfoy reeled back, a hand over his left eye. "Potter, you tell me where she is right now, or I'll—" Malfoy snarled, taking his hand off his eye.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, YOU GIT!!" he bellowed, fed up. Malfoy seemed slightly taken aback, but not for long."I'm going to kill you, Potter," he snarled.
"That's enough!" a sudden voice cut in. "Mr. Malfoy, we told you quite clearly to wait for us in the Headmaster's office! We did not give you permission to seek out other students and start fights!"
Harry watched McGonagall come down the stairs behind them, eyes full of anger. "Mr. Potter! Why are you not in class?"
"My bag ripped, and I stopped to fix it," he explained, holding up the worn bag. He felt warm blood dripping down his chin, and suddenly his nose burned again, the pain even worse than when Malfoy had initially broken it. He tried pinching it with his fingers, but it hurt to even touch it, so he settled for trying to cup the blood in his hand and keep it off of his robes.
McGongall seemed to think over that response for a moment, and she calmed down imperceptibly. "Mr. Potter, you're bleeding all over the place," she said flatly. Harry frowned.
"I know, ma'am," he said, trying not to sound angry at her. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"That, Mr. Potter, is none of your business," she told him sternly. "Madame Pomfrey will attend to your injuries, and I'm sure Hagrid will understand why you missed class."
"But—" he tried to object.
"As for you, Mr. Malfoy, ten points from Slytherin for disobeying instructions, and another five for fighting! Mr. Potter was not and will not be involved in this situation!"
Malfoy glared daggers at Harry, who glared back just as angrily. "I know he had something to do with it," the teen snapped.
"I don't even know what you're talking about!" Harry hissed.
"That's enough!" McGonagall said again, enraged. "Mr. Malfoy! Please return to the Headmaster's office, right now. And Mr. Potter, to the infirmary!"
Harry gave Malfoy one last glare and brushed past his rival, storming up the stairs and towards the infirmary. Underneath his anger, he wondered just what Malfoy had been so angry about.
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"It figures," Ron said, his first words as he and Hermione came into the infirmary. Harry looked up, earning himself a swat from Madame Pomfrey.
"Don't move, Mr. Potter!" she scolded. "I need to set your nose before I heal it, or it will end up very crooked!"
Like Snape's, Harry thought for a moment, then stopped, his stomach feeling cold even at the name. "What figures?" he asked his friends instead.
"That when you don't show up to class it means you're in the infirmary," Hermione explained. "It's the first place we've looked."
"What happened, mate?" Ron asked. Hermione and Ron were now looking him over, staying just out of arm's reach of Pomfrey as she manipulate his now.
"Ow, ow," he grumbled, as she pushed it around. She'd given him a pain-relieving potion, but he could still feel it quite sharply if she pushed it around too much. "Malfoy accused me of something," he said, when Pomfrey had finally satisfied herself. "I didn't want to get into a fight…"
"Damn right!" Ron exclaimed.
"Language, Mr. Weasley!" Pomfrey scolded, filling a small tumbler with something very purple and steaming.
Ron looked partly embarrassed, but didn't apologize. "You didn't get suspended from Quidditch, did you?" he demanded. Harry shook his head, and Pomfrey swatted him again.
"Don't move it!" she scolded. "Drink this," she directed. Harry hesitated, regretting that he couldn't pinch his nose shut, and downed the glass as quickly as he could. He grimaced at the awful taste and coughed once, clearing his throat.
"No, I didn't get banned," He said. "I didn't get anything," he said, "Except bruises from Malfoy because I knew you'd kill me if I somehow got banned from a game or practice."
Ron looked a little regretful. "I wouldn't get mad if you were defending yourself," he said. Harry sighed.
"Well, I did hit him in the eye…after the third time he hit me," Harry grumbled. "He's got bony knuckles."
"What was his problem?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged.
"I don't really know," he admitted. "He kept saying that he knew I had something to do with 'it,' and he wanted to know where 'she' was. McGonagall showed up, took fifteen points from Slytherin, and told me to get up here. She yelled at Malfoy to get back up to Dumbledore's office, and that was it."
"Hm," Hermione said softly.
"Hm what?" Ron asked.
Harry waited for Hermione to say what she was thinking, meanwhile feeling his nose carefully. It felt straight once more, and it no longer hurt or felt swollen. "Well, you did mention before school started that Malfoy and his mother were here, for protection, right?" Hermione finally said. Harry blinked.
"D'you think his mother has gone missing?" Harry asked. Hermione looked unsure.
"I don't want to assume, but that does sound likely, right?" she asked. "Who else would he worry about so much?"
"Maybe she ran to Voldemort," Harry suggested. He forgot Pomfrey was there until she gasped at the name.
"Oh, er, can I go?" he asked her. She nodded.
"Go on," she said. "Just don't bump your nose for the next hour, and it will be good as new," she instructed. Harry nodded and followed his friends as they rushed up to the Gryffindor common room in order to finish their conversation.
They didn't make it that far, though. McGonagall stopped them on the stairs. "Potter, you'd better come with me," she said.
"What's going on, ma'am?" he asked, not moving. "Is this about earlier?"
McGonagall sighed. "Yes, it is. Now please come with me, so we can sort this out."
Harry glanced at his friends, hoping they'd get that he'd tell them what had happened as soon as he got back. "All right," he agreed. McGonagall gestured for him to go ahead of her, and he started back down the steps, McGonagall just behind him.
"To the Headmaster's office," she told him. Harry nodded, having assumed that that was where they were headed.
"What's going on?" he asked again, as they stepped past the already-aside gargoyles. McGonagall gave him a tight-lipped stare.
"That's for the headmaster to tell you," she said. "Now come on," she urged. Harry started up the spiral staircase, mind on what had happened earlier.
Which was why he wasn't watching for the enraged teenager that suddenly tackled him to the ground. His head bounced off the floor sharply, and he blinked dizzily up at Malfoy's narrowed silver eyes and angry sneer. "What the hell, Malfoy!" he got out. He shoved hard at the teen, and was aided by a sudden spell from McGonagall. Harry got up slowly, still feeling a little dizzy, and watched warily as Malfoy got up from where he'd been knocked to the other side of the room. The teen was still fuming, and Harry could only assume that Dumbledore had been unsuccessful in convincing Malfoy that Harry had had nothing to do with whatever had happened.
"Mr. Malfoy, that was completely uncalled for," Dumbledore spoke up sternly. "Ten points from Slytherin. Mr. Potter, are you all right?"
Harry nodded, though the sudden motion sent pain lancing through his head. "I'm fine," he said shortly. "What's going on, sir? Why do you need me?"
"Please, sit down," Dumbledore asked. Harry did so, and Dumbledore spoke as soon as he had settled down. "Mrs. Malfoy has gone missing, Harry, and it seems Draco believes that you had something to do with it."
"I didn't," Harry said flatly, trying not to get angry again. "Ask my friends."
"Oh, sure," Malfoy said sarcastically. "Let's ask those two mindless twits…they'd lie for him in a minute!"
"I have nothing to hide," Harry snapped back. "I've been in class or at lunch so far today. That's it!"
"All right, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I believe you."
"What!" Malfoy exploded. "You believe him, but not me?" he demanded. Harry watched Dumbledore stare Malfoy down quite calmly.
"Mr. Malfoy, I have no reason to believe that Mr. Potter was in any way involved in your mother's disappearance," Dumbledore said. Malfoy looked ready to explode again.
"He's the reason my father's in prison!" Malfoy finally snarled.
"Your father, Mr. Malfoy, is a confirmed Death Eater," McGonagall spoke up. Malfoy flushed red.
"That's not true!" Malfoy protested. "He isn't a Death Eater!"
Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy was being awfully thick. "Look, I didn't have anything to do with anyone leaving this castle, and the only your dad's in prison is because he's got the Dark Mark on his arm!"
Malfoy looked ready to tackle him again, but Dumbledore seemed to be restraining him with a spell. "That will be all, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "I would ask that you do not spread this amongst your classmates, please."
Harry nodded. He would tell Hermione and Ron, of course, but it wouldn't get beyond them. "Is that all, then?" Harry asked, just to be sure. Dumbledore nodded and gave him a small smile.
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "Go on. Try to enjoy the rest of your evening, please."
Harry nodded and got up. He swayed a moment, his bruised skull protesting the sudden movement, and left without a backwards glance.
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Harry wasn't sure if it was just one of those days, or if Halloween really held something against him. He was a flight of stairs and two turns of a hallway away from the Gryffindor Portrait when he saw movement and whirled sharply. "Who's there?" he demanded. As far as he knew, everyone was in the great hall now, for the Halloween party. Nobody else was supposed to be around.
No one answered his demand, though, and he started again up the stairs.
Only to once again see movement, and this time he was fairly certain that someone was somehow following him. He started down the hallway, pulling his wand out and holding it tightly.
He was as prepared as he could have been when the first spell was sent his way, but he did not have to consciously block it. It bounced off of the sudden shield around his body, and he whirled towards its source. It was too shadowy to see anyone for certain, but he sent a disarming spell in the direction anyway.
A red jet of light answered him, and he raised his wand again. "Stupefy!" he shouted.
The red blast shot down the hallway, lighting it up clearly but hitting nothing. "Eviscero!"
This time he heard the spell before it was sent his way, and his eyes widened as he realized that it was a very, very nasty curse. Not illegal, but very lethal in most cases. "Protego!" he shouted, also diving out of the way as best he could.
The yellow light shot past him, and he rolled to his feet. "Stupefy!" he tried again.
This time there was a dull thud, and he hurried forward. "Expelliarmus!" the voice shouted. Harry was caught by surprise and blasted backwards onto his still-bruised backside, wand torn from his grasp and sent clattering down the stairs and out of sight.
And then a black-robe figure with a white Death Eater mask stepped out of the shadowed hallway, wand pointed directly at Harry's head. Harry blinked, wondering what was going to happen. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
"I don't have time to talk to you," the Death Eater snarled.
"How did you get into Hogwarts?" Harry demanded. "How did you get past the wards?"
"I don't have time, I said! Stu—"
The Death Eater didn't get a chance to finish his spell. Harry lunged forward, tackling the man at the knees and sending him crashing hard on his back. Harry's head still swam from hitting the floor hard, but he swung at the man as best he could, landing a few solid blows before the man recovered himself and smashed a fist…thankfully…just into Harry's chin instead of his barely-healed nose.
Harry was knocked hard on his back by the much-stronger stranger, and he scrambled back towards the man as fast as he could. He latched onto the man's wand, trying to wrench it from his grasp, and gasped as a fist hit him hard in the temple. He could feel his fingers slipping, the wand slowly tipping to point at his head, and then suddenly a new person had joined the fight.
Harry couldn't have been more happy to see Ron, who fearlessly launched himself onto the struggling Death Eater. Ron was several inches taller and perhaps twenty to thirty pounds heavier than he was, and between the two of them they were able to pin the Death Eater down by sheer weight. Harry twisted the man's hand until he let go of his wand, and Harry pitched it over the railing without hesitation.
"Glad you showed up, Ron," Harry gasped. Ron gave him a quick grin while struggling to keep the man down.
"You're not having a very good day, Harry," he commented. Harry shook his head.
"Is someone getting a professor?" Harry asked. The Death Eater struggled afresh, but Ron just twisted the man's arm behind his back tightly and held him down harder.
"Hermione's getting someone," Ron told him. We came out of the common room because you hadn't come back yet, and there you are, trying to fight a big guy in black robes one-on-one."
"Didn't have much choice, did I?" Harry asked dryly. Ron chuckled. "No, I guess not."
"Mr. Potter!"
For the third time that day, Harry heard McGonagall's voice. He looked up, feeling a little woozy now, and smiled. "Professor McGonagall," he said. "Er…"
"Stupefy," she said, and Harry felt the man he was pinning down go limp. Ron stood and helped him up carefully. Harry felt his knees buckle slightly, and was grateful that Ron was holding him up. "What happened, Potter?" McGonagall asked.
"He attacked me in the hall," Harry reported. McGonagall came closer, and Harry watched as Hermione stepped around McGonagall and kneeled down to remove the man's mask.
"Dolohov," McGonagall said.
"Huh?" Harry said. This looked like a student, but Dolohov was a grown man.
"Dolohov's son," McGonagall explained. "He's a seventh year."
"Slytherin?" Ron half-asked, half-spat. McGonagall gave him a stern glare.
"Yes," she admitted. She waved her wand at the prone teen and his unconscious body lifted in the air. "Mr. Potter, do you need medical attention?" she asked.
"Er…I'd rather just make it to the common room," he admitted. "I've been trying to get there for the past hour almost."
McGonagall gave him a small smile. "Very well then," she said. "I'm sure the headmaster will send for you later to explain what happened."
"Sure," Harry agreed tiredly. His knees decided to go watery once more.
"Whoops," Ron said, catching him before he could fall and pulling him back up to his feet. "Come on, Harry. Let's get you to bed."
"All right," he agreed. McGonagall gave him a last scrutinizing glare and then turned, the body of the unconscious Death Eater trailing after her. "Ooh, I don't feel so great," he groaned, as Ron turned him around to head to the common room.
Hermione felt his forehead with a hand, and gently touched his chin. "You have a pretty nasty bruise, Harry," she said.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Goes with the ones Malfoy gave me," he grumbled."Again??" she asked.
Harry grimaced. "He tackled me when I got into Dumbledore's office. I've got to find some way to get back at him for that."
He tottered a little when Ron let him go slightly, and Ron chuckled as he caught him again. "Maybe I shouldn't let you walk on your own," he said. Hermione smiled gently.
"It's a good thing you're not too big, Harry," Hermione told him. "After the all the times people have had to carry you around."
"Hey," he protested weakly. The truth was he did end up getting carried a lot, whether he was conscious or not. "It's not my fault."
"Valor," Hermione said. The portrait swung open, and Ron helped him over the slight ledge and into the common room. "Will you be comfortable on the couch, Harry, or do you want to head up to bed?" she asked. Harry could tell she wanted to know if she'd been right about Malfoy, but was willing to wait until the next morning if he needed to sleep.
"We can stay down here a bit, but I don't want Ron to have to drag me up to the dorms if I fall asleep," he said. Ron laughed and let him down onto the couch, and then he and Hermione took seats facing him.
"Well, let's have it," Ron prompted.
"Hermione was right," Harry said. "Malfoy's mum has gone missing. He thinks I did something to her."
"We were with you all day!" Ron protested.
"That's what I said. Of course Malfoy didn't believe me, but Dumbledore does. That was pretty much it, and then I left," Harry explained.
"What about the Death Eater?" Hermione pressed. Harry sighed.
"I thought I saw someone following me, and then they attacked. I fought back…my wand," he groaned, remembering that he'd had it blasted out of his hand. Hermione smiled though.
"Here," she said, giving it to him. "McGonagall found it when we were headed up the stairs to you."
"Thanks," Harry said, taking back the wand gratefully. He checked it over quickly and pocketed it, glad to have it back. "Er…I'd better get to bed," he said. He could see on the clock that it was only just past seven in the evening, but his head was swimming and his mind was foggy. "I'll be fine," he said. "Go enjoy the party for awhile. I just want to sleep."
Hermione looked reluctant, but Harry was adamant. "You guys are dating, right?" he said. "Have a date," he ordered. Hermione blushed, and Ron pulled him up to his feet.
"All right, come on," he said. Harry followed without protest, having to lean on his friend much more than he would have hoped for. "Time for beddy-by, Harry."
"I can make it on my own," Harry protested, struggling even to get up the stairs. Ron laughed at him.
"Suuure, you're just fine," he said. Harry just stayed silent until Ron let him down onto his bed. "Sleep. We'll check on you when we get back from the party, all right?" Ron asked.
"'Mkay," he mumbled, already half-asleep.
"Oh—and thanks, Harry," Ron added. Harry nodded, as his eyes dropped closed.
"No prob…" he mumbled. He was asleep before Ron even left the dorm.
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It was raining. He huddled at the side of the fortress, pressed against the stones, and tried to stay out of the worst of it. He could see the huddle of black-robed figures on the hillside. In the middle of the ring was a solitary figure. He couldn't see who it was, but they were defying the death eaters.
He could tell that even from where he crouched, but who it was he could not be sure. The wind whipped away any words that could have been spoken, and Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying not to let the harsh cold get to him.
Lightening cracked, illuminating the world around him, and suddenly the death eaters were surrounding him, wands pointing at him. He tried to scream, surprised at the sudden appearance, but his words were drowned out by the rumble of thunder.
And the mud was sucking at his legs again, drawing him under, pulling him down, keeping him from escaping. He tried to get his wand out, but his hand felt sluggish and slow.
And when he did manage to reach into his pocket, his wand was not there. He was defenseless. Alone, cold, and without his wand.
The lightening blazed across the sky again.
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A/N: Whew! This chapter came out something over nineteen pages in Word, which is a great deal longer than most of the others I've written so far. I just couldn't find a good spot to split this in two, so you've gotten a real treat this week. Well, at least I hope it's a treat for you. On the other hand, it may mean the next chapter's up a bit late, because now I have nothing ready for next week. Give me time, and I'll work hard to get it done. I've also just gotten over a lump of writer's block that I've had for the past month or so, so I've been writing more often than before. Thanks for reading, and please tell me what you think!
Responses to Reviewers:
Stahchild: Thanks for the long and wonderful review. Yeah, Snape's really on Harry's bad list right now, and he's going to stay there for some time. I was going to have him help Harry out in this chapter, but I made it McGonagall instead. Snape's still a spy, so having him save Harry from a death eater could have been dangerous to Snape if word had gotten out somehow. And any, Harry hasn't been mad at Snape for quite long enough. There may eventually be a resolution between the two and some sort of truce, but right now it's still questionable. Harry's busy with lots of other things at the moment, too.
Ash Knight: I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I really appreciate your view on the story. I know Harry's been very forgiving of Dumbledore, but I tend to feel that Harry's words to Dumbledore at the end of OOTP were more out of anger and helplessness than anything else. I've said terrible things to my parents when I'm very upset, but when I've had a chance to be away from them and cool down I always feel bad for getting upset. I just figure that Harry's never had a reason to doubt Dumbledore's intentions in five years, and he wouldn't throw it all away just because Dumbledore make mistakes. Although lying to Harry like he did was pretty bad… Anyway, I really don't like many stories where Dumbledore is a manipulative jerk, so I didn't make him one in my story. He's just an old man trying to do the right thing with a student that's become almost a grandchild to him. Hopefully, the story's still believable to you and you'll keep leaving me your wonderful reviews.
Looka: I don't want to give Snape away yet, but it's not as deep as some might think. Snape's motives aren't entirely spite and hate, but he doesn't have some hidden agenda either. Er…I don't want to give it all away now, but it will eventually be addressed. Thanks for your input.
Numba1: I'm going to go ahead and assume that you're going to have some objections to this chapter, and I understand. Your last review was somewhat critical of some of Harry's reactions, and I don't pretend to be any sort of expert on this situation. Harry kind of gets tromped by Malfoy in the chapter, but don't worry…Harry will eventually get back at him. I'm trying to make Harry very accommodating for his friends, since he feels pretty bad about the whole Dept of Mysteries fiasco, but he does reach the end of his fuse every now and then. First and foremost, he's a very complicated sixteen year-old boy. Harry is at the point where Snape means less than nothing to him, I feel. I've tried to portray it that way, and it's why I purposely didn't include a potions class scene in this chapter. Snape's just kind of…faded out…in this chapter. He does end up coming back, though, because this issue isn't resolved. I'm glad that I can count on your detailed reviews for just about every chapter, and thanks for taking the time out to do so.
Meggplant: Glad you picked up on the silencing spell. Just a little suggestion of expanding powers that even Harry didn't notice either. Thanks for reading!
Thanks also to:
Sky Samuelle, Von, Corrinetkn23, Mirokus-doll, Cynthia1850, Loka, AD, Sponge Hearts, HPfreakout, Child-of-Darkness1988, forfirith, mrs-osborne's-class, Dianne, Calen, we3, maggieochp