Harry Potter characters do not belong to me but to J.K. Rowling.

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In Terms of a Name

By Taliya

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Chapter IX: Confrontations

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"When he summons you next, inform me. I wish to drop by for a little visit," Harry said with a small smirk.

"As you wish, my Liege."

---

Harry stood before his bathroom mirror, gazing at his reflection. Those light-hued, glacier-like eyes gazed back at him, a stark contrast to the thick, but tame black mop atop his head. Concentrating, Harry released the Metamorphmagus magic, watching as his eyes darkened from pale blue to vibrant green. His famed lightning bolt scar faded into view. His hair writhed a bit as it reverted to its naturally wavy nature. His bone structure reverted back with subtle shifts in the nose, chin, and cheeks. His height had remained the same, just to make it easier for himself to remember. The iron collar that had been placed on his neck upon his entrance into Azkaban lay useless, having short-circuited sometime during his transformation. He could not get the blasted thing off, so it remained, a silent, sorrowful testament of the Wizarding world's callousness.

Harry Potter looked back at him in the mirror, pale and solemn. He curled a hand into a fist before opening it up again to study the sharp black claws. He gazed at himself in the mirror for a little while.

I am Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, known in the Wizarding world as the Boy-Who-Lived. A prophesized child destined to either kill or be killed by a near-immortal Dark Lord.

I am Faustus Hamilton, Hogwarts' resident Defense Against the Dark Arts and Martial Arts and Weaponry professor. A young man who hides his pain and loneliness behind a façade of impassiveness.

I am the Lord Sovereign of Darkness, immortal leader of the Dementors and other dark creatures of exceptional power. A being of virtually limitless power, both destined and damned to an eternity of solitude.

How do I reconcile these three aspects, these three facets of me when they seem so incompatible, yet inseparable?

Harry Potter needs Faustus Hamilton to disguise the pain of being placed on a pedestal by the Wizarding world. Faustus Hamilton is a guise to hide the isolation caused by being the Lord Sovereign of Darkness. The Lord Sovereign of Darkness would not exist without Harry Potter.

Harry Potter has to be the Lord Sovereign of Darkness in order to possess the "power the Dark Lord knows not". The Lord Sovereign of Darkness utilizes Faustus Hamilton to maintain a pretense of normalcy. Faustus Hamilton needs the experience of Harry Potter, among others, in order to bequeath knowledge and understand others his own age and younger.

Harry shook his head, rubbing his temples to stall the beginnings of what promised to be a pounding migraine. His mind was whirling, thoughts darting to and fro with no seeming order or connectedness. It was so incoherent, even to him, and it was his own mind.

Bollocks, he thought grumpily. I feel as though a blacksmith is pounding away on the anvil that is my head.

Deciding he needed to go for a walk to clear his mind a bit, Harry left his quarters, determined to go outside even though it was still snowing. He threw on a thick, but simple black cloak—much like a student's and not made of the usual silks—slipped his wand into its holster, and left his rooms, checking to make sure it was securely locked and warded.

It was almost eight thirty. Most of the students would by now be sequestered in their common rooms, even with the early hour. Harry did not mind this, for he was not in the best mood to encounter anyone.

He passed the Great Hall with a brisk stride, pausing when he heard several surprised gasps. Spinning he found his eyes locked with those of his friends.

Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Neville all stood clustered at the entrance to the Great Hall, frozen in the act of leaving. Their eyes were wide with shock and their mouths hung slightly open save Luna, who gave him a faraway smile.

"Hullo, Harry," Luna murmured quietly, no sign of surprise in her absentminded expression.

Harry blinked, wondering why all except Luna were reacting to him strangely. His mind momentarily cleared as he remembered that he forgot…

Oh, bloody effing hell.

"Harry?" Hermione breathed, so quietly that had he not had enhanced hearing he would have never heard it. Swallowing, Hermione tried again. "Harry?"

Harry jerked backwards, away from them, and fled, his wandless abilities kicking in without him noticing and slamming the doors to the outside open. His pace never once wavered.

His mind was once again racing, only this time with different thoughts than before. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, yet he could clearly hear the pounding of feet that followed him, mingled with cries of, "Harry! Harry wait! Please! Harry!"

The moment he was out the door, Harry released the restraints he held on his physical abilities and shot off into the night. As soon as he felt it he was far enough away from the castle and its lights, Harry dove head first into the snowy but shadowed ground, allowing the darkness to swallow him like water, but with nary a ripple to indicate his passing.

The four Gryffindors, minus their Ravenclaw friend, followed their friend as closely as they were able, but lost him as soon as they exited the castle. Not knowing which direction their friend went, their pace slowed to a halt while their wands lit up with magical light. Winded from their sprint, they spread out, all calling his name with desperation in their voices.

"What are you lot doing out here?"

The four spun to find the silhouette of their Head of House. Converging on the woman, they each sought furiously to explain what they were doing.

Almost immediately they were silenced with a quick hand motion. "Please! One at a time!" Professor McGonagall admonished. She was interrupted by another voice.

"What seems to be the problem, Minerva?"

They all turned to look at the approaching figure of the Headmaster.

"We saw Harry!" Ron blurted out. Minerva gasped and Albus' eyebrows arched in incredulity. "We saw him and he ran! It was Harry and—"

Ron quieted as Dumbledore motioned for him to stop. "I believe this is a conversation better discussed in private. Please follow me to my office."

No one saw a blond head disappear around a corner and flee towards the owlery.

The two professors and four students made quick work of making their way to the Headmaster's Tower. Once they were all settled, Albus asked the students. "Now, would you mind repeating for me what you were doing outside in the dark? And in the snow, no less."

"We saw Harry," Ginny said steadily, gazing into the Headmaster's blue eyes. "We saw him and he ran from us."

The Transfigurations professor asked with a touch of doubt in her voice, "Are you sure it was Harry that you saw?"

"We know who we saw," Neville answered defensively before blinking at his own brazen outspokenness.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" suggested the Headmaster, sensing the tension rising between the skeptical Head of House and her students.

Relaxing slightly the Gryffindor students began to tell their tale, not leaving out any detail they could think of.

---

The time it took for Voldemort to summon the Dementors took longer than their indicated five days.

"We couldn't exactly tell him that five was supposed to mean five days," they had explained after the allotted five days had passed, amusement lacing their words, "After all, we cannot speak the human tongues anymore."

After nearly two weeks of waiting, the Dementors felt the summons from their not-Master. While the majority of them left to meet the Dark Lord, one headed for Hogwarts, going as close as it dared so as not to alert the school's professors, but just enough to allow its Lord to sense it. Sensing that its Lord was not within the school, the lone Dementor sunk into the shadows, emerging in the Fortress of Dark. Sensing its Lord, the Dementor returned to the other realm to wait.

Sure enough, Harry emerged from the shadows, fully dressed in the given regalia indicative of his status. He had disabled his Metamorphmagus abilities, although the only thing that once could really see that was changed were the knife-like black nails on his fingers if he lifted them up from behind his cloak. His hood was up, and the charm that obscured his face was activated.

"Lead on, dear friend," Harry said as they vanished into the night.

They reappeared from the shadows in an area that Harry did not recognize. His eyes roved over the seemingly deserted town, eyes picking up every detail despite the lack of light. It's sort of creepy here, he thought.

Following his guide, they entered a large mansion overlooking the seemingly dead town.

---

"What do you make of it?" Albus asked, directing his question to all of his hired educators, save Faustus. The Defense professor had not been down in the Great Hall for dinner; the others merely assumed that he had not been feeling well enough to make an appearance.

"Well, other than Potter is just as much an attention seeker as ever?" Snape answered with a small amount of contempt.

"Severus," warned Minerva as she sent her colleague a glare. Although she understood why the Potions professor regarded the Potter child with such enmity, it did not prevent her from defending the teen. In the back of her mind she wished that he would someday learn to see beyond the grudge, see beyond the scars of James Potter's mischievous and hurtful legacy, to uncover and maybe understand a little of the youth that held an adult's burden on his shoulders.

"If it is true that Harry Potter has been spotted," Pomona Sprout intervened, trying to forestall the impending argument, "Then the Ministry will be swarming all over here soon."

"It will be hard to cover up even if we wanted to," added Filius Flitwick. "While not all of the staff were in the Great Hall, there were still a few, not to mention the students that were lingering. It was impossible not to hear his friends scream his name."

"So what are we going to tell the Ministry?" queried Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy instructor. "It is very likely that students are going to write letters to their parents informing them of the sighting."

Albus sighed heavily. "In all honesty we cannot claim to have seen Harry. We only have four students as witnesses. However, we do not want to discredit them, as it could hurt their futures. We will believe them, but state that we ourselves did not see him. I believe that is the best solution we can come up with."

The Hogwarts professors all murmured their agreement and left their Headmaster to his brooding.

---

Lord Voldemort currently had several Dementors before him; his temper at the moment was quite short. "What of my offer?" he almost demanded.

The Dementors rattled their breaths, shaking their heads once in an emphatic no.

The man growled as the Dementors once more began rattling and clicking. He was itching to hex the creatures when a voice cut through his musings.

"Trying to steal my subjects from me, are you?" The voice was a deep tenor, with a rich, cultured quality to it. He had a neutral accent, if there ever was one, so any listener would not be able to tell if he was from Britain, America, Australia, or any other English-speaking area. Voldemort did not recognize it.

The Dementors parted like the Red Sea to allow a smaller figure to pass through them.

Dressed in the finest black silks he had ever laid eyes on, the stranger stood at about average height, tendrils of black smoke shielding any view of his feet and therefore made him appear as though he were gliding. The silver embroidering, both intricate and elegant, bespoke of great wealth. A gracefully wrought sword, peeking from underneath his cloak, hung on the figure's left hip, and a silver medallion of sorts rested on his chest. His face was swathed in shadow that Voldemort instinctively knew would not reveal his face even with an ability to see through almost everything like that blasted Auror Mad-Eye Moody.

The Dark Lord's lips curled in a sardonic manner. "Your subjects? I fail to see how they could possibly be your subjects when they have already pledged their allegiance to me. What right to do you have to claim them as yours?"

"Well," Harry said mildly, his tone of voice intended to irk the older man, "I claim they are my subjects because they chose me as their leader." As he said the last five words, he gestured to the taller, cloaked figures, and Voldemort was surprised to see curved, black claws extending from where human nails should have. All of the Dementors present turned to face the stranger and sank into a uniform bow at his gesture.

The gobsmacked expression on Lord Voldemort's face was fleeting; it was replaced by one of hatred and malice. "So," he hissed, "You…" He stopped, and a look of consternation and grudging realization passing over his face. He inhaled deeply—to Harry it seemed as though Voldemort was visibly calming himself, which in and of itself was nothing short of a miracle.

"Please forgive me for my outburst," Voldemort said silkily.

And Hagrid's rock cakes are now officially chewable and edible, Harry thought wryly.

"I had not known that your subjects had already chosen a leader," the older man explained.

And that's as close to an apology as he'll ever get. I'm going to milk this for all its worth, thought Harry with a dark smirk.

"My name is Lord Voldemort. I have been working on strengthening relations between my side and your subjects. I am waging a war against an old fool named Albus Dumbledore. I believe that this world, our world of magic, should remain separate from that of the non-magical populace. Those of mixed blood should not be allowed to discover our existence. The diluted blood weakens our kind, destroys our magical heritage. Time and time again we revealed ourselves only to be scorned and killed. I simply wish to clean the magical world of this filth, to rebuild our society to its previous greatness and maintain its secrecy from the rest of the non-magical world.

"I have enlisted the aid of your subjects in my quest. Since you have made your appearance, I request of you to aid me in my noble cause, begun by the great Salazar Slytherin himself."

Silence followed the Dark Lord's proclamation. The Dementors shuffled softly, awaiting their Lord's response.

Harry himself was mulling over different responses to Voldemort's proposition.

"You do realize," Harry began, "that the non-magical world's population greatly outnumbers that of the magical world. Why are you so keen on isolating the magical world?"

Glowing crimson eyes narrowed in hate. "They forced us into this seclusion, which we should be willing to reciprocate. They do not understand us and our magic, which only lead to suffering and eventual destruction."

"But would it not be better to explain to them that magic exists, and that your worlds can indeed coexist peacefully? If it all comes down to misunderstanding, why not help them understand?" Even as Harry spoke this, he could not help but recall the Dursley's complete lack of acceptance.

"Were we to do so now, they would not hesitate to decimate us. Their lack of understanding, as well as the continual dilution of our blood, will lead to our eventual downfall, and I will not allow that to happen," Voldemort growled.

Harry paused in his questioning, both to think over his enemy's responses and to make said opponent uncomfortable with the silence. Watching the other man from beneath the shadows of his hood, Harry smirked as the Dark Lord almost unnoticeably shifted uneasily in his seat.

"And what of me and my subjects? What do we get out of this should you triumph?"

Here Voldemort grinned maliciously. "Each and every soul of the opposing side that remains alive after every battle. We will capture them and allow your subjects to feast."

"Then we do not have a deal," replied Harry flatly.

"What?" hissed the Dark Lord.

"You heard me," Harry snapped back coldly, "We have no deal."

Voldemort could be heard gritting his teeth. "Then what are your terms?" he nearly snarled. The Dementors were a necessary part of his plans; it was vital that he receive their help or his plans of societal cleansing and eventual domination would all go to ruin.

"One battle," Harry stated clearly, his tone uncompromising, "I wish to minimize casualties to my subjects and not endanger them needlessly. This battle will determine the final outcome of this war you wage. I will give my aid just this once; you would be wise not to waste it. I will call forth each and every one of my subjects, but I expect to be kept fully informed on the details of this battle. Should you need input, call forth one of my faithful. They will be able to inform me."

Voldemort clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists. He knew that with the help from the Dementor Lord, the Light side would crumble faster than he could blink. An added bonus was that the Potter brat would most likely not be there to help—if he was even alive at this point. "Agreed. I will begin the planning. You will be kept informed."

Voldemort won't know what hit him. Harry smiled coldly, although it could not be seen. "I expect no less."

Their meeting was interrupted by an owl—the Malfoy's eagle owl—if Harry's memory served him correctly. The owl landed on Voldemort's armrest and stretched its leg out. The Dark Lord quickly untied the parchment attached to the raptor's leg and scanned through the document. The bird had flown away the moment its message had been delivered. The parchment was slowly crumpled in the man's fist.

"It seems as though I have some pest control to do," he stated in a controlled voice.

"Oh?" Harry responded, already having an idea of what the contents of the message were.

"Harry Potter has been seen on Hogwarts grounds, apparently not as dead as I would have liked," growled Voldemort.

"And what do you propose to do about it?" Harry asked, pleased that he was pissing off the Dark Lord.

Here the other man scoffed. "What do you think? I, Lord Voldemort, will personally kill him."

---

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was busy fending off Ministry personnel, reporters, and other random people with rather strong opinions. Word had spread like wildfire that the escaped convict Harry Potter had been sighted on Hogwarts grounds.

Minister Fudge could be seen scurrying about, flanked by Aurors and higher-level officials, all the while bickering furiously with the Headmaster.

"I am telling you, Albus, the boy must be found! He is a menace to society, and we must do everything possible to find him!" barked the portly man.

"I understand your concerns, Cornelius, and we will do everything within our power to aid you," replied the Headmaster in a conciliatory tone he adopted when speaking with younger children.

"Too right, Albus! And all this time we thought he would aid us in the fight against You-Know-Who!" exclaimed the Minister with outrage.

Dumbledore mentally heaved a sigh. This was going to try his seemingly endless patience.

---

Draco Malfoy was returning to his rooms after a tiring day of classes. Taking some of the less oft used corridors, he turned a corner and literally ran into Ron and Hermione, who were on their way back from the library to the Gryffindor common room. The three toppled over.

"Watch where you're going, you dimwitted Horklump! Now I've got filth all over me!" Draco snarled. Seeing who it was he ran into, he got to his feet and brushed off his robes as he jeered, "Well, well, if it isn't the Weasel and the little tagalong know-it-all. "

"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron snapped back as he helped Hermione to her feet. "You all right, Hermione?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, combing fingers through her frizzy locks.

"As touching as this is, you should get out of my way," drawled the Slytherin, assuming a bored air. "Besides, I don't want to be caught out after curfew," he added.

Before the two males could enter a full-blown shouting match, all three suddenly froze as a hooded head emerge from a shadow in the few feet between them. The head turned and stared rigidly at the two Gryffindors before quickly swiveling to land on the Slytherin.

Although Draco could not see anything within the hood, he could somehow sense that the… thing's… eyes, if it had eyes, had gone as wide as dinner plates.

"Wait!" Ron and Hermione called, making a dive for the rapidly retreating head. Draco unconsciously mimicked the Gryffindors' actions. Fingers curled into the sides of the hood, and they sunk into the shadows with the cloaked being.

Draco's heart pounded furiously in his chest; his thundering pulse filled his ears. His fingers were still tightly clenched in the hood's silky fabric. I need to get some of this, Draco thought inanely.

The quartet emerged in one of the many shadowed hallways of the Fortress of Dark, although the three Hogwarts students still had no idea where they were. In this new, unfamiliar setting, Draco's stomach was beginning to clench and tie itself in rather uncomfortable knots. As soon as his feet were on solid ground, he released the figure's hood and stumbled away, trying to recover his dignity. The two Gryffindors similarly stumbled from the being.

"Where are we?" he demanded brusquely to mask his fear, "And who the bloody hell are you?"

The cloaked being had not yet turned around to reveal himself to the Malfoy heir, yet he or she was not facing the Gryffindor pair either. Even though the figure was turned away, Draco observed that he was taller, past his father in height. He had a moderate build; neither bulky nor spindly. The satin-like black cloak poked out on its left towards the bottom, indicting a sword sheathed on its hip. What startled the Slytherin most were the tendrils of inky smoke that curled about the floor at the feet of the figure.

"I did not expect you to follow me, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger," answered an aristocratic tenor. The cloaked being slowly rotated around, stopping when he had turned enough to reveal his body's profile. His head was fully turned to stare at the blond.

It unnerved Draco tremendously that he could not see into the hood, to see the face that lay hidden within the shadows. He was utterly scared witless by the fact that this nameless person knew his name. Malfoy is a famous name, the Slytherin rationalized, Surely he'd have heard of me… He slowly backed away, bumping into a wall.

Harry watched as the Malfoy heir retreated from him, his heart pounding loudly to his sensitive ears, his grey eyes dilated due to his fear.

"Please, sir," Hermione started tentatively, visibly quailing as Harry turned to regard her, "Where are we? How do you know our names?" Both she and Ron were white as sheets; Ron's freckles and red hair contrasted starkly with the paleness of his skin.

He sighed quietly to himself. What am I going to do with all of them? I can either:

1.) Take them and dump him back at Hogwarts, keep them in the dark and let others go on believing they'd gone mad; or

2.) Figure out a way to keep them silent without having to off them.

Harry sighed again, refraining from rubbing the bridge of his nose. Might as well go with number two. Having Malfoy being thought of as crazy is too mean and petty for my tastes, and I certainly don't want my friends to be thought of as insane. Either way, I have to figure out a means of keeping Dumbledore unaware of me and my position. How do I protect them against Legilimency?

Addressing the Slytherin, Harry stated, "I take it you do not know where this is?"

The Malfoy heir rapidly shook his head. "I already asked you once, you arse," he snapped. The scene would have been amusing to Harry had he not been so annoyed at the situation.

"I'm surprised you were able to follow at all. I was unsure whether or not mortals were able to enter this realm," said Harry, watching Draco's eyes widen comically.

"Realm?" Ron asked, his voice shrill with fear.

Harry turned to Ron. "Yes, realm. Do keep up, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger; I do not want to have to send one of my subjects after you," Harry said as he began walking down the corridor. "I am the Lord of this realm. Here my subjects are free to roam wherever they please."

"Your subjects?" Ron asked, voice laden with apprehension.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, my subjects. Not Voldemort's," Harry said, turning to face the trio as the Dementors made their presence known via the shadows. Malfoy stiffened and bit back a scream, backing into Ron and Hermione, who were pressed back-to-back, wands at the ready. "Mine," Harry finished with a dark grin.

The trio waved their wands back and forth, striving but failing to keep an eye on all of the Dementors that had gathered around them. The black-cloaked figures formed a loose circle around them, their breaths rattling with their chuckles at the students' actions.

"Don't come closer!" Hermione bravely shouted, "Or I'll use the Patronus Charm!"

"Calm yourself, Ms. Granger," Harry chided softly, "They mean you no harm. If you haven't noticed already, their effects have been greatly dampened due to my interference."

Ron blinked and blurted out, "Bloody hell! He's right, Hermione! Do you not feel cold?"

Hermione's brows furrowed in consternation as she pondered the implications of Ron's observation. "So," she began hesitantly, "They are feeding off of a single source as opposed to multiple sources? You mean… they are feeding off of… you?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Don't be stupid. Everyone knows that Dementors take from everything they can, the greedy bastards," he mumbled the last part under his breath, but Harry heard it with his keen hearing.

The Dementors stirred, their breaths clicking indignantly. Harry shushed them with a gentle gesture that revealed his black talon-like fingernails. "I advise, Mr. Malfoy, that you monitor what comes out of your mouth," warned Harry in a low voice. "They," here he waved a hand indicating the Dementors, "take offense to your words." As if to punctuate his words, the Dementors rattled ominously.

Plan fully formed in his mind, Harry began, "Now, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, please come with me. There is something I wish to explain to you two. Mr. Malfoy, please remain here—"

"The bloody hell I won't!" snarled Draco. "If you expect me to stand here twiddling my thumbs with those… things hanging around me, you've got another one coming! Besides, whatever they get to know I most definitely get to know!" With his outburst he pompously stomped over to where the two Gryffindors and the unknown person stood.

Harry smiled. The ploy worked like a charm. Leading them down one of the countless corridors, Harry began to explain things to them while casting complex spells on their minds that would Occlude the information he would present to them.

Harry began his explanation. "What I am going to tell you will never reach the ears of others unless I permit it. I—"

"You permit it?" Draco interrupted incredulously, "You can't tell me to do anything!"

Harry replied with a slight edge, "Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you please do be quiet. I have already enabled precautionary charms to keep prying minds out of yours. Now, as I have mentioned before, I am the Lord of this realm. The Dementors call me the Lord Sovereign of Darkness. You are here, deep within the shadows, in the Lands of Eternal Night. Here, my Dementors roam free."

"Sir," Hermione began haltingly, "You-Know-Who is said to have garnered the Dementors' support. Is this true?"

By now they had reached the great room of the Fortress of Dark. Harry gestured for the students to sit. They did so nervously, tightly clustered together on a couch. Draco did his best to not sit so close to them and not appear to be afraid. Harry himself took a recliner.

"Voldemort did indeed attempt to recruit my loyal. They most likely would still be following him had I not interfered. I do not intend on following the plans of that man."

Ron and Hermione were visibly heartened by the news. Draco sputtered, but managed to hold his tongue. It would not be wise to dispute this unknown man's ideologies in a realm he knew nothing of.

"So what are your plans then?" queried Ron, with curiosity.

Harry smiled a little at his long-time friends. "I will not disclose my plans to you, but I do not intend to fully cooperate with Lord Voldemort," he revealed. "His ideals and my ideals do not coincide." Remembering the current time, which had come to a stand still while they were in the Fortress, Harry remarked, "I should probably take you all back to Hogwarts. It's getting close to your bedtimes."

Before the three students could reply they were engulfed in swirls of black smoke and deposited in the same corner of the same hallways. The three staggered as they regained their footing, jumping as the mysterious man's voice echoed in their minds. I will know if you try to tell someone; you will find it exceedingly difficult to talk to people about this particular event.

"Was that real?" asked Ron, looking at the other two in bewilderment.

"I'm sure that was," Hermione replied, a bit breathless herself. "Oh, blast! He never got around to telling us who he was!" She let out a groan.

Ron shuddered. "Knowing what I do now, I'm somewhat glad I don't know who he is."

Just then the clock tower rang the hour. "Curfew!"

They all split up as they made the mad dash back to their common rooms, Draco to the dungeons, and Hermione and Ron to the upper floors.

Giving the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione and Ron quickly entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked as the two caught their breaths. She and Neville ambled over. "We thought that you two were going to be caught by Filch!"

Hermione threw a Silencing Spell on Ron just as he opened his mouth to speak. When no noise came out of his throat, he turned and gave Hermione a glare. She glared right back and hissed, "This is something we want to keep quiet." Turning to the others, she said, "Let's find somewhere that can afford us some privacy."

The four of them went upstairs into the boys' dormitory, settling in Ron and Neville's room. Dean and Seamus, they had noted, were in the Common Room playing a game of Exploding Snap. Charms were cast to ensure no eavesdroppers.

"So what happened?" asked Ginny, who was brimming with curiosity. Hermione cancelled the spell on Ron.

"Something crazy happened to us!" Ron began, "We were walking back from the library and ran into Malfoy. Knocked each other flat. Suddenly we saw a chicken come by and try to eat my boot!" Ron frowned and the others blinked at him. "I didn't mean to say that! I meant to say that Flobberworms are trying to take over the world!"

Hermione was frowning as the gears in her mind industriously churned. "That spell…" She fell silent for a few more moments as she put the pieces together. "Ron! We can't tell what happened because he said we wouldn't be able to! Remember how Malfoy threw a fit?"

Ron's eyes widened. "Merlin's beard! Do you think there is a way to go around it?"

"Can you write it out?" suggested Ginny, whose curiosity was killing her.

"We can give it a try," Hermione agreed. Grabbing some spare parchment, a quill, and an inkstand, she began to write:

Today we found killer kidney beans swimming in the lake.

"How odd," the elder girl stated, "I could imagine myself writing what I wanted to write, but it was as if my hand had a mind of its own, to go on writing all that."

"Felt that way speaking, too," added Ron, "It's almost as though some external force was controlling my jaw and vocal cords."

"He did mention that Legilimency would not find the information in our minds. If we aren't able to tell anyone, it's probable that others won't be able to find that information in our minds."

"What about when not in the presence of those that don't know?" suggested Neville.

Ginny pouted at the idea of not being able to listen but agreed to go outside. After another set of privacy spells, Ron and Hermione began to talk. To their amazement, they were able to converse freely about the events they experienced. They were even more amazed that they were able to write down the events that happened.

Opening the door for Neville and Ginny, they proudly presented the piece of parchment, which Ginny and Neville eagerly read. As their eyes scanned through the document, frowns formed on their faces.

"What?" Ron asked indignantly at their expressions.

"You wrote about flying goblins and dancing houses," Neville uttered.

"What?" Hermione squawked, snatching back the parchment. Sure enough, written in her neat, precise handwriting was a small paragraph on how goblins had wings and flew about singing in Gobbledygook, and how houses grew arms and legs and danced about their yards.

"This is insane!" growled Ron. No one argued with that.

---

Meanwhile, Malfoy was having a similar problem explaining what happened to his Head of House after being caught sneaking back into the Slytherin Common Room just after curfew.

"I swear, Professor, something happened! I somehow cannot communicate it, but something did happen!" Draco insisted.

"Mr. Malfoy, we've tried every means of drawing out this… experience… of yours, but to no avail. Are you sure it happened?" Obviously Snape was rather skeptical if he could not even find this memory in his student's mind with Legilimency.

"I am not going insane, Professor!" Draco nearly roared.

"Alright, Mr. Malfoy!" Severus snapped. "I'm not going to argue this with you anymore. You may leave," he instructed, pinching his sinuses.

Draco headed for the door. Pausing before he opened it, he turned back and asked, "You believe me, don't you, sir?"

Snape sighed. "I do, Draco. Good night."

"Good night, sir."

As the Malfoy heir left his office, the Potions Master adjourned into his private rooms, fixed himself a tumbler of brandy, and seated himself in his recliner before his fire.

---

Harry chuckled at Draco, Hermione, and Ron's attempts to explain to others their predicament. His spells were designed to have them say something nonsensical whenever they tried to spill the beans, whatever the method.

Currently he was ensconced in his bed at Hogwarts, his Metamorphmagus abilities activated so that his appearance was that of Faustus Hamilton's. A book about the Dark Arts from the Black library lay open on his lap. Hedwig, renamed Aldara, was preening on a perch placed on top of the bookcase, straightening glossy cream and brown feathers.

The clock tower chimed fifteen after the hour. Deciding to call it a day, Harry both dimmed the fire in the fireplace and opened the window slightly with a single wave of his hand. That way, Aldara would be able to go on her nightly hunt without bothering him about the window.

Poor Ron and Hermione… and Draco, I suppose. I hope the former two will forgive me when I reveal myself.

Murmuring a good night to his barn owl, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor snuggled under his comforter and fell into sleep's waiting arms.

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I hope you enjoyed it and please, review. Please keep in mind that HBP hasn't happened in my story, nor will it happen. I was not all that pleased with the way the book turned out, so I am not going to follow that storyline. I have been on a six-week field camp that took me through seven different states, so I was quite out of date with my story. I won't apologize for it; I really had lots of fun and wouldn't have missed it for the world.

-Tal.

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Completed: 7.9.2007

Edited: 7.9.2007

Re-edited: 1.8.09

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