Seeing with the Heart

by fancyspinner

House lines extend beyond the walls of Hogwarts; however, in the winter and spring of 1997 those lines will crumble and the past will rise up to bring unexpected change to the wizarding world.

3. Chapter 2

Seeing with the Heart

Disclaimers: not mine! For long notes, see Pro.

Feedback of all kinds, including constructive in nature welcome, flames will be treated accordingly.

The prejudice so obvious in the books has always bothered me. Not all Slytherins are Evil and not all Gryfindor's are good. It's just notstatisticly possible!

Please be aware that while this is a romance and has both het and slash; at heart, it is a story of growing up and growing past expectations and childhood beliefs.

Chapter 2: January 3rd

Morning, Gryffindor Tower

They were sitting in the common room, the squashy arm chairs not as comfortable as they normally would be. The entire House was in shock. Ron had his arms wrapped around his sister as though his mere presence could keep her safe. Dean sat with Lavender Brown, whose face was white as parchment. Seamus sat with his arms around a still weeping Hermione. Colin Creevy sat with another of his year-mates, Mildred Holestead. Earlier the girl had shared how her father had been killed by the Cruciatus curse in front of her when she had been seven. Harry sat next to Ron, a terrible look on his face.

"Harry, what is it?" Ron gave his friend an anxious look. It seamed that every year they had to deal with one disaster or another. Up until Neville's run-in with Malfoy, their sixth year had been relatively quiet. Ron had a feeling that was about to end.

"Do you know what that means? That Neville was placed under the Cruciatus curse? It means that they don't care anymore who might know what. It was a statement. I'm sure of that. It means that there is no more hiding! It means that we are at war!"

Hermione usually was the strong one, the one with all of the answers but this time she had none. There was no magical cure to fix Neville up. She would never forget finding him. He had been huddled next to the Fat Lady. He had looked half dead. She knew he wasn't, had seen his chest rise and fall, but the slack expression he had worn would not give her peace. "Oh god!" Hermione mumbled to herself.

Seamus was murmuring to her, his fingers running through her hair. It helped. It made some of the panic ebb away. In Seamus' arms she didn't have to be strong.

"He was always willing to stand up for people." Mildred's voice fell softly into the room. "I remember, one night, he was in that potions group with me where all we inept people go to practice our lowly skills to make sure we don't kill someone." Her voice eerily sounded like Snape to the others and for some reason it began to lesson the tension. Ron even managed a snicker. "One of the Slytherins began picking on me. The transformation was unbelievable. I know that he must be brave. I mean he's in our House but he just got this look in his eyes. It wasn't mean, just determined. Then he says, you need to leave her alone because Professor Snape might not punish you, but the Headmaster will. Then Zabini pulls out his wand and starts to chant and Neville just calls it right out of his hand. Then he walks right up to Snape and hands it over.

The group was leaning forward at this point, tiny grins and chuckles escaping them. Hermione had finally stopped weeping and was wiping at her eyes.

"Snape was gob smacked. I could see that. He sort of stared at Neville like he'd never seen him before. I wish you could have all seen Neville! He just stood there as if he had not a care in the world. Professor Snape, he says. I really think you should keep this. Mr. Zabini doesn't quite seem to have control of It. He then pulls his own wand and holds it out. ` And here's my wand as well. I used it when I was not supposed to.` Snape glared over at Zabini and took his wand but let Neville keep his. You know, I was looking up and Snape had the strangest look. It was kind of sad but then he got the same sort of determined look Neville had been wearing and gave him points, for quick action, no less."

The group got misty all over again. Then Ron spoke, "I remember when we started the defense group. Every one was so determined but no one more than Nev. I would find him..." The time slipped forward as the group swapped stories until it was time for breakfast.

--------------------

Medical wing.

Poppy Pomfrey had never felt so helpless. She watched the young man in the bed convulse and shake. His skin was drenched in sweat and clammy to the touch. With a soft cloth she did her best to wipe him down. Most medi-witches and wizards would have used magic but Poppy believed in the power of touch.

She was a fierce proponent of hands-on healing. It created a type of bond between healer and patient which transcended that of friendship. Touch and voice, Poppy believed, were the key when magic was useless. She believed this especially true when the Unforgivables were involved. Poppy did not have much practical knowledge of the Unforgivables. She had a lot of theories and ideas but they were untested. It broke her heart that she was testing them out on a child.

She knew that she was doing all she could. She sat with him and held his hand. Most thought her brusque manner was cold but the truth was that she couldn't allow herself to get attached to her patients. It would be impossible for her to carry out her duties if she did. Especially in a case like this.

This boy had always been different. He tried so hard to fit in but he never quite reacted to things as others did.

She knew and had been friends with Neville's grandmother and, while she had respected her, Poppy had always thought her unfit to raise children. Coldness had grown around Augusta longbottom after Frank and Alice had been committed to St. Mungo's. She had been left with the care of a child she obviously had not wanted. The lack of emotional support had shown in the uncoordinated disaster prone boy. She stroked the sweat soaked hair and hummed a lullaby her own mother had sung to her.

--------------------

Headmaster's office...

"Well Mr. Malfoy, what have you to say for yourself? Your actions this night are reprehensible. Give me one reason why I should not call the Ministry and have you taken to Azkaban?" Albus hid the hope that maybe the boy had been under Imperious.

Insane sounding laughter was the only reply.

"He has the Mark, Albus." Severus found it almost impossible to hide the guilt at not being able to save Draco from the Destiny Lucius had created for him. "What shall we do with him. We obviously cannot let him go, not after what he's done, but," and Severus' voice cracked, "I won't kill him."

For once, the blue eyes were not twinkling. "No, of course we won't." The unspoken thought, # not at this time,# hung in the air between them.

"I say we keep him here. I think for now he should sleep. We'll put him in one of the Null Zones so that he doesn't have access to his powers. Then, you and I shall go to breakfast and announce the tragic events of last evening to the school."

Snape prowled the room with all the ferocity of a tiger. "You're a manipulative bastard, headmaster."

"Yes, I am." Albus countered the anger with a twinkle.

"I think I'll go have a chat with my House. I wouldn't want them to be surprised."

"That would be a tragedy, Potion Master Snape."

He didn't bother to hide the tiny grin Albus' teasing caused. War was nasty business and humor had always been rare in his life.

***

Moments later: Slytherin common room

"Ms. Parkinson, I am waiting. Mr.

Zabini?" Snape wore such a look of menace that the two most disobedient students, aside from Malfoy, scurried to do his bidding. He sighed sorrowfully. He wondered if there was any one he would be able to save from this batch. He looked at Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle and blinked. For the briefest moment he saw intelligence and humor on both faces.

Throughout their years at Hogwarts, he had wondered about the two boys. It was unfathomable that people, as stupid as they supposedly were, would make it through the difficult OWLs. There really was no way to cheat. Each year was given a different set of exams and large portions of the exams were given on a one on one basis. He decided to call the boys into his office and have a chat with them.

"I'm so glad you have all decided to join me. I am here to tell you that Mr. Malfoy has been expelled. He performed the Cruciatus curse on a student from Gryffindor House. The student is in the hospital wing." He took a deep breath and silently apologized to Frank and Alice for the millionth time in the past five and a half years. "He may not live. He is in what appears to be a coma." He watched with disgust as the majority of older students and even some of the younger ones clapped. He took note of the ones who didn't and forced himself not to gape like a fish.

"I tell you this," he spoke coldly and overrode the jubilant feeling that appeared to have claimed his House, "Because if I learn that any of you helped Malfoy, or are in any way trying to harm each other or some one from another House, I will personally expel you."

"Our Lord has returned! Professor, I cannot believe that you would support the Mudblood lovers. It's not to be endured that such a brilliant pure blood would sully himself..."

"Ms. Parkinson. I will not listen to this trash any longer." He didn't bother to correct her impression that he was a pureblood; instead, he gave her what she would most probably take to be a conspiratorial glance, though it would send most others running in terror. He watched in horror as her eyes turned misty with desire. He would kill VOLDEMORT himself.

"My apologies, professor."

"Now! I will be speaking to some of you on an individual basis. I will not give Dumbledore anymore cause to pick on this House. I also know that some of you are more volatile than others. I shall see you all at breakfast," and with a swish of his robe, he was gone. The stunned silence lasted for several moments.

--------------------

The Great Hall

Breakfast was a very odd affair for the students, on their first day back from winter holidays at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For a start, when the students entered the Great Hall the head table, where the staff sat, was full to overflowing. Every professor who taught at Hogwarts was there. This included the ghost, Professor Binns who taught History of Magic, the Divination instructor Sybill Trelawney and the centaur Firenze. Another oddity was that there was no food on the table. There were only pots of tea and coffee, water and the various juices that the students drank.

On the whole, it was a conversation starter. When the headmaster rose, all eyes immediately went to him. He wore a somber expression, the ever-present twinkle missing.

"I see you are all wondering why there is no breakfast. Do feel free to drink up. You are also probably wondering why your Heads of House were so insistent that you come to the Great Hall this morning." He paused allowing his words to sink in and giving speculation just a moment to begin.

"Well," his voice snapped out like a whip, quelling every bit of conversation. "A terrible thing has happened. One of your fellow students was attacked last night by another of your fellow students. I am extremely disappointed that such a thing would happen here. I am also very concerned for your safety." As the headmaster spoke, all heads were turning to see if they could figure out who was missing. Everyone realized that Draco Malfoy was not present. After all, Malfoy had attracted attention like honey called bees. His absence quickly became the topic of conversation. A much smaller group of people noticed that Neville Longbottom was also missing. They looked at the solemn Gryffindor table and understood that the two absences were probably connected.

Pamona Sprout was more than saddened. Neville would be the most amazing Herbologist in centuries. She glared at Severus Snape and, to her shock, he bowed his head.

"I see you are all looking around you. I will spare you the strain. Neville Longbottom was attacked by Draco Malfoy." He gave the uproar time to die down. "He was placed under the Cruciatus curse for an unknown period of time. For those of you wondering, he is extremely unwell. He may not make it. He is currently in some sort of coma. Madam Pomfrey has asked that friends of his feel free to stop by. She hopes that hearing familiar voices may help him find his way home.

"I assure you that steps have been taken to protect you."

Just then the doors banged open.

"Ah, Alastor so good of you to make it." After that brief aside he turned back to the stunned students.

"Mr. Moody has volunteered not only to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts but also to place further security measures around campus. Professor Kelton has had a family emergency and was unable to return. You needn't worry, there will be no dementers this year. There will, however, be security guards." A group of figures slipped in behind Moody. "They will be stationed throughout the school and outside the common rooms. Anyone caught out after curfew will be severely punished."

His eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table. "Now, do try to eat. Classes will resume as normal." The food slowly appeared on the tables as if even the house elves were shocked by the news.

--------------------

Slytherin Table...

Gregory Goyle looked around the Great Hall, as the headmaster spoke, and sighed in relief as he spotted a redhead sitting amongst the Gryffindor crowd. He drank his fill of the lanky frame. Not so lanky, he suddenly realized. Quidditch had given Ron muscles and the redhead had slowly grown into his body over the years. Greg ached, as ever, to taste the soft skin and hard muscles. He lost himself in imagining Ron coming to him and asking to talk. The nudge slowly brought him back to Earth.

"Will you stop that? He's glaring over here. Oh, don't do that! You're grinning. Why me?" Vincent sighed, exasperated with his friend. He was tired. Neither of them had slept. They had resolved to talk with Snape one way or another. The fact that Malfoy was not going to be a problem made things easier. Although they would have to deal with Zabini and Parkinson.

A figure rose from the Gryffindor table and stalked across the room. He looked like he was ready to do murder. Vincent smothered the vicious swearing he wanted to do.

"Go to hell, Weasley!" He snapped before Greg could throw himself at the boy. To his horror, Weasley ignored him and got in Greg's face.

"What are you staring at, you-"

"Ron!" It was Granger with Potter and Vincent had never been so happy to see them.

"Just come on. You know Snape will be here in a minute to take points." They dragged him off still mumbling.

"It's hopeless, huh? He'll never see me."

"Sure he will! Things are going to be different now." Vincent spoke quietly. It appeared to help and Greg slumped into his seat.

--------------------

Gryffindor table...

"What was he staring at?" Ron exploded even before they sat down.

"Maybe he likes you," Seamus laughed and, in one of those rare moments of utter silence that sometimes happen, Ron's

"Oh god! Do you think... oh, how disgusting! He's so, so horrible and stupid and oh, I want my mummy," set the entire table off again.

All but Hermione and Mildred, who were watching and caught the devastated look that flickered over the Slytherin's face.

--------------------

Head table.

"That needs to stop." Albus Dumbledore rarely got angry, but he was angry now. "Severus, Rubeus, I want each of you to assign a final project for the year and to pair Gryffindors and Slytherins together."

The two chosen exchanged grins. "It's already done, headmaster. Got them all split up and all. Just happens kids don't know it yet." Hagrid continued to grin.

"That is frightening," murmured Minerva McGonagal to the headmaster, who nodded and wondered idly if someone would finally give him a nice pair of socks when he retired.

"I need to see to Mr. Goyle. I think he truly does have a crush on Ronald Weasley." Snape was already rising before the words had left his lips. Dumbledore and McGonagall acknowledged his words with serious nods.

--------------------

Greg left as quickly as he could. He had Potions but he wouldn't go to class. He knew Vince would worry but it couldn't be helped. He knew he wasn't very smart or very good looking but he wasn't horrible. Was he? He fought the tears and looked around. Seeing no one, he ran as fast as he could. When the floor shifted beneath him, he welcomed it.

He found himself in the dungeons and simply stared. In front of him were two lifelike statues one of Godric Gryffindor and the other of Salazar Slytherin; they seemed to be carved out of two slabs of Marble. He'd never seen sculptures look so life like.

"Hello." The voice spoke hesitantly in his head.

"Who are you?"

"Salazar Slytherin. I don't have much control over this form of communication as yet but I'm working on it. You're another one of mine? That's good. Godric hasn't found his or they haven't found him. Don't know what good control of the castle does us if we can't even get three lousy couples together. Who is it from his house, anyway? It's been bloody ages!" The words trailed off into mumbling in his head.

"What?" He mentally recoiled from the voice. Salazar Slytherin indeed. It was probably a nasty trick someone was playing on him.

How dimwitted could the child be? "No trick, Mr. Goyle. Who are you in love with?"

What would it hurt, Greg thought to himself. "His name is Ron Weasley, he's a Gryffindor. I love him, but he doesn't see me. He just said I was horrible."

He frowned as he felt tears in his eyes. "What exactly are you talking about, Slytherin?" He tried to infuse his voice with some of Snape's sarcasm. Remembering Vince's story, he wondered, if someone tried to find him, would he not be found in the castle?

"Oh I can't tell you that, but it's on the wall. Your Weasley is very handsome. You've got taste. Oh, and sarcasm does not suit you."

"Vince thinks you don't really hate what the Gryffindors stand for." Greg was good at humoring people, even spirits or whatever this was.

"Well, of course not. Godric and I had a misunderstanding before Rowena and Helga locked us in these forms."

As the being spoke, Greg looked around to see if he could discover some of what was going on. All he saw though were the very life like statues. If he could learn why a spirit being was locked in the form of a statue claiming to be Salazar Slytherin and that Godric Gryffindor was also a statue. Then he could start solving the problem, which would probably mean freeing the beings. He had to give the voice credit. The statues were real enough.

"A misunderstanding?" Even as he spoke, Greg's mind tried to put the puzzle together. The statues looked life-like and were the exact images of the Founders. Could the voice speaking to him truly belong to Salazar Slytherin?

"Well, more like a 30 year war. It got pretty bad. That's probably why the Houses dislike one another so much. It's quite sad."

"What was the misunderstanding about?"

"You should get to class. You're already late."

He felt the familiar pulling sensation of portkeying but was left with the impression if the statue could have blushed, it would have.

***

Greg suddenly found himself outside the Potions classroom. He hesitantly entered and walked towards his seat, only to find Harry Potter sitting there.

"Mr. Goyle, so good of you to join us. Your seat is over there." He looked where the Potions master was pointing and made a tiny sound of distress. He was pointing at a spot right next to Ronald Weasley.

"P-Professor Snape?" Gregory Goyle was unable to move. He felt his feet making the attempt but he was too shocked to find success.

"Now, Mr. Goyle. You are holding up the lesson."

He finally felt himself able to move and staggered over to the indicated seat. He couldn't believe what was happening. It was his worse nightmare and most treasured fantasy in one. It was hell. A subtle version created just for him. Perhaps Voldemort had learned that he would rather die than serve him and this was his punishment? Maybe "Crucio," would come next?

He consoled himself that at least he would be close enough to feel the heat off Ron's body. Oh yes, he thought, torture.

Ron sat in stupefied shock. This was not happening. If he repeated it enough times, he was sure he could force it to be true. For five and a half years, the Gryffindors and Slytherins had been on opposite sides of any class they had together. Now, they were being mixed and matched to serve some strange purpose. He kept an eye on the hulking figure beside him. On occasion, every few seconds or so, his eyes drifted to Hermione Granger and Millicent Bulstrode or to Harry and Crabbe. He shuddered. At least, Harry was nearby. He wondered if his friends would make it out of the class unscathed. He didn't hold out much hope. Maybe he could blow the class room up and they would go up in a blaze of fire. The plaque could read "Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor to the end." Of course, in that case, he would have taken everyone with him. It was better to think of a plan where he was the only one harmed. Maybe he could fix it so that a few Slytherins would go with him. Then his memorial would read, "He sacrificed himself so that his friends could continue to live in freedom." He was certain that he could find a charm to keep the majority of the class safe. He would have to go to the library.

His thoughts drifted off, wondering if Goyle really liked him. That would be hideous. One of Malfoy's lackeys, chasing him all over Hogwarts professing his undying... The rambling thoughts were unceremoniously interrupted by Snape who was looking menacingly down at him and his unwanted partner.

"Mr. Goyle, Mr. Weasley, while I understand that you are not pleased with the arrangements, I expect you to do your work. If you do not, you will find yourselves in detention with me, together." He spun to face the class, a malevolent look on his face. "That goes for all of you!" As he spoke he prowled the room stopping at random desks. "The head master has expressed a desire that there be interhouse comradeship. The burden has been placed upon us professors to insure this happens. You will all cooperate. If you do not, you will not only face the wrath of the instructors," at this he glared at the Slytherins "but the wrath of Headmaster Dumbledore as well." His glare shifted to the Gryffindors.

His pronouncement caused an uproar that took a while to die down. Even when he indiscriminately took points from his own House, the racket continued. It even worsened, as anger from the Slytherins and shock from the Gryffindors gave the noise new volume. Severus Snape was ready to start hexing.

"Silence!" He bellowed, having to use a sonorous charm to be heard.

Ron leaned over and glared at Goyle. "This is all your fault." He hissed under all the racket. "It has to be. You couldn't wait for breakfast to be over; you had to run out like a love sick lunk-head."

Goyle ignored him as the ramble made no sense whatsoever. Ignoring the ruckus around them, he chopped, shredded, diced and poured, despite his trembling hands. The faint scent of apples and cinnamon came to his nose as Ron leaned over to stir.

Ron found a tiny bit of admiration growing and did his best to stamp it out. This was a Slytherin and one of Malfoy's cronies. The fact that he was working amidst the chaos around them was unexpected but should not matter. Ron realized that the other boy hadn't glared at, or pushed, or otherwise attacked him or his friends. He looked different too, but Ron couldn't quite place it. He shoved the thoughts away and stirred.

As quiet was slowly restored, Snape watched the boys in the corner. He kept waiting for one or the other of them to mess up. It didn't happen. The redhead leaned over the brown haired boy and stirred in perfect rhythm. He was so entranced in watching them take turns to chop, dice, and stir, and, in the flawless work they were doing, that he did not pay as much attention to the rest of the class.

--------------------

Harry Potter cursed every oath that popped into his head. He was sitting next to Crabbe and expected to work. Dumbledore must be losing his mind. He found potions difficult at the best of times, but sitting next to a probable Death Eater who could poison him or his friends was terrifying. He had lost points already and it was only the first day back from the winter holidays.

"Well, Potter?" Vincent tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He'd been trying to get Potter's attention for almost a minute. That could be crucial in some potions. Luckily this wasn't one of those.

"What!"

"Are you done chopping the horns?"

"Oh." He absentmindedly picked them up and dropped them into the potion and heard a strangled "No!" Suddenly, Harry found himself being violently shoved out of his chair and blanketed by a firm warm body. He found himself thinking how good it felt that he didn't have to protect that he could be protected instead, as an explosion turned the desk to smithereens and splinters flew around the room.

"Get down!" No one was quite sure who shouted but everyone hit the floor.

Severus waved his wand frantically trying to slow the bits of desk and cauldron as well as globs of potion that were whipping around the room. "Someone go get Madam Pomfrey, now!"

--------------------

Ron tried to move, to push the dead weight off him but couldn't. He swore silently and gave a gigantic heave and was free. He leapt to his feet and glanced down. Goyle was covered in cuts and lacerations and blood, so much blood.

#don't think about that now. #

Ron scanned the room and saw that he was the only one truly mobile. As that realization hit, he nodded over to Snape and headed towards the medical wing, or the nearest staff member. The fire place was currently useless. It was full of potion and desk and who knew what else.

He wished the Magic Community had those Muggle things that you talked into. As he raced at top speed, he mused on the fact that while the Magical Community thought itself superior, in many aspects, the Muggle community was its equal and in some instances surpassed it.

He looked up and down the hall he was running through, hoping beyond hope to see someone. The floor moved beneath him and he swore colorfully. "Not now!" When the moving stopped, he found himself outside the medical wing.

"Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey!" He raised his voice and began wandering through the various rooms calling out desperately.

"What is it?" Questioned the medi-witch as she noticed him.

"There's been an explosion in the Potions class. You have to come right now." And he ran out hoping she was following.

--------------------

He came to with an aching head and was shocked to feel a gentle hand stroking his face. "Why did you do that? Why? You're supposed to hate me." Harry found himself asking the other boy as he woke.

"Potter?" Vincent's voice came out in a croak. "You're the hope of the wizarding world? You bloody pillock what were you thinking? What possessed you to throw those horns in like that?"

Vincent kept his eyes closed because his head ached. It throbbed in time with his words. He was actually afraid to open his eyes for fear of what he would see. The gentle hand continued to stroke the side of his face and through his hair.

"You ever thought of letting it grow?" He ignored the questions about the horns because what could he say?

"Guess I can now."

"What do you mean?" Harry felt interest in a Slytherin for the first time ever and was shocked that the world didn't screech to a halt.

Vincent swore to himself. What had he just said? It was difficult to think through the pounding in his head. He drifted on the warmth Potter's touch created.

"About what, Potter?"

"About being able to let your hair grow out."

"Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it."

"You're bleeding"

"Huh!" Things were slipping in and out of focus. The touch of Potter's hand was the only thing keeping him aware.

"Right there, on your temple, and you have cuts everywhere."

--------------------

Just then the door flew open and Madam Pomfrey came in half a step behind Ron. Severus had given up on cleaning up the mess and allowed it to float around the room. It was currently harmless. He shifted his attention to help those students who were unconscious.

He would look into what had happened later. He would have to discuss it with Moody, a thought that displeased him immensely. The man hated him and that was a feeling Severus was tired of fighting.

--------------------

Ron glanced around the room and saw Harry sitting up. He went to Hermione instead, who was bleeding copiously from a scalp wound. "Mione!" There was a commanding tone to his voice that was rarely heard. She scowled at him and he grinned. "Just checking you were awake. It's bad to sleep with head wounds, you know?"

She shot a sharp glance his way then held out a hand to him. He gratefully grasped it. "I'm all right. It just hurts." Then she did a double take. "You don't have a scratch on you."

He blinked and looked down at himself. Then mumbled something.

"What?" She leaned forward and winced."

"Don't do that!" She snorted.

"Severus, I need your help here." Pomfrey's sharp tone made Ron look over. He saw Goyle laid out on a stretcher. He looked deathly pale. Ron attempted to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach but couldn't.

He watched as Snape glided to her side. It was difficult for Ron to see, but it looked to him as though Snape was pressing something to Goyle's neck.

"Are you happy now, Weasley?" The hiss caught him completely off guard.

"What are you talking about, Bulstrode?" Ron saw her then half leaning over Hermione's shoulder. Bulstrode was holding a cloth pressed against Hermione's head.

"I'm sure even * you* can tell how badly Greg's hurt!"

He scowled at the insult. He opened his mouth to say something, when her words sank in.

"Hurt?"

"Yes, Weasley. What he sees in you is beyond me."

"Me too." Ron mumbled.

"You mean," spoke Hermione through gritted teeth, "Goyle really has a crush on Ron?" The other girl did not reply.

***

Their discussion was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey, "All of you who are hurt but can walk, go to the hospital wing and wait for me. Those of you who are not harmed help those who are! Move!" She snapped, when no one followed her instructions.

The group slowly filed out and towards the hospital wing. To Ron, it appeared that everyone was moving in slow motion. Something felt off about the entire situation. The table he had shared with Goyle should not have been hit that directly by the explosion. They just hadn't been in the direct line of fire. On the other hand, Mione and Bulstrode, continued his analytical mind, had been. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he wanted to find out. Gregory Goyle had saved his life, after all.

--------------------

In the hospital wing, Justin Finch-Fletchley sat next to Neville. He'd always had feelings for the other boy, but had never acted on them. In the way of all Hufflepuffs, he had been loyal to the other boy. He had befriended him and made every attempt to be noticed by the shy Gryffindor and it seemed to have been working. He reached out a hand and laid it on the boy's cheek, stroking gently.

"Neville, I don't know where you've gone but you need to come back. It's been almost twenty-four hours and I'm worried. I'm sorry about your grandmother. I tried to see you, but your uncle, or whoever the bloody hell that was, wouldn't let me."

It hurt him in some indefinable place to see Neville so still. To him, the other boy crackled with a quiet energy that seemed limitless. Now, he lay so still that it was difficult for Justin to stand.

He stroked his friend's cheek. "Hey, I had my parents send me some funny," he leaned forward and whispered, "emails." If his lips lingered a little too long against Neville's ear Justin was beyond caring.

Justin was proud of his Muggle Heritage and reveled in the chance to show it off. Email was a marvel to many wizard born. Neville had fallen in love with the almost instant form of communication. Justin had painstakingly looked for fun and interesting things to show his friend. He ran his fingers repetitively over Neville's face and hair. He did it more to sooth himself, pretty certain that the other boy was not aware of him.

--------------------

Neville floated above his body, and contrary to Justin's thoughts, was completely aware of the sad figure at his bed side. He was stuck above his body, not that he truly wanted to get back - but his parents were gone and so was his gran.

"Oh Justin, I'm so sorry. Some Gryffindor I've turned out to be."

"You are a fine Gryffindor, though whoever decided to name the houses after us must have been slightly mad!" The sultry female voice came from thin air and Neville just blinked. "Who's there?"

"You have no need to know. Just understand that you are safe and needed. When you do, you will be able to return." Neville was once more alone looking down at his physical form and at Justin touching him with such gentleness. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be with the other boy.

--------------------

Justin kept talking about whatever came into his head, until a commotion at the door caught his attention. He turned to see the entirety of the sixth year Gryffindor/ Slytherin Houses trooping in. The majority of them looked as though they'd been through an explosion, and knowing the volatility the groups had when placed in proximity, that was probably what had happened.

The group was supporting each other and he watched with amusement as they separated. The Gryffindor contingent headed his way. They were chattering and motioning wildly. He hoped he wasn't expected to follow the conversation, because it was impossible.

--------------------

Ron's attention was diverted from looking behind him at the figure being brought in via stretcher by a hard nudge. "It's a Slytherin, mate. He'll be fine." He glanced at Seamus and made himself nod in agreement, even if the words the other boy had spoken felt false to him.

Ron forced his attention forward and grinned at the sight which greeted him. Justin was sitting with Neville, holding his hand and stroking his hair. It was adorable. Not that Ron would ever say that aloud. The romantic spirit passed down to him from his father was something that he did his best to hide. He broke away from the others and quickly walked over to Neville and Justin, smiling at the picture they made.

"What's happened now between you all?" Justin's question sounded mostly amused and Ron looked at him intensely before speaking. Something in his eyes must have communicated to Justin the seriousness of what was going on because the other boy leaned forward.

"Later, ok? Basically, there was an explosion and people were hurt." Justin's eyes ran over the redhead and noted the lack of bruises. Ron nodded in acknowledgement of the perusal.

Their strange friendship had begun in fourth year. During the fiasco with the triwizard tournament, Ron's initial fury had turned to depression. Justin had been there for him, not judging and not pushing him one way or another. Ron had been sulking in the library when he had become aware of Justin reading a paper backed book. Curiosity had propelled him over to the other boy. He had discovered a love for mysteries that long afternoon.

Only after the first task, and his reconciliation with Harry, had Ron realized how much of his life was taken up by the other boy. He had found a balance between Harry and the rest of his life, though it had not been easy. Over the following year, he had drawn his groups of friends together and it was now usual to see groups of people from various houses sitting around talking. The hub of the gradual change was Ginny, Harry, Justin, Neville, Terry, Hannah, Hermione and himself. It had been hastened along by the formation of DA. The only house excluded was Slytherin and, until this morning, Ron had encouraged the exclusion. Now, he was unsure of what to do. He was unsure how to fix what was so broken. The words to last year's sorting song disjointedly played through his head as he distractedly stared at some point beyond his friend.

What with Dueling and with Fighting...

Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses were great at that. He couldn't imagine it any other way.

And the clash of friend on friend...

He could never dream of turning on Harry, not really. What madness would cause friends to turn on one another? He found it interesting that the Hat said one thing but History told a tale of dissatisfaction and enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor. A hand drifted to his forehead and rubbed gently. He felt a headache coming on but his thoughts and the song would not quit running through his head.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the houses been united

As they once were meant to be...

He wished he could talk to the founders. Maybe he could find a portrait of one or another of the Four. He'd have to go to the library. He had been unable to develop the same love for research and books that Hermione had, but he could do it with the best of them.

Oh know the perils,

Read the signs...

The Warning History shows

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external deadly foes

Ron new that better than most. Every year he had attended Hogwarts something had threatened the school, his friends, the entire Wizarding World. Sometimes the threats came from within the school like in their first and second years but other times the threat had been external, just like the Hat had sung.

We must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within."

Ron felt a chill run through him because he could see that happening very easily, but how could it be stopped. He resolved that it needed to be stopped, but couldn't quite think of how. The rivalries were so ingrained.

--------------------

Harry watched his best friend and wondered what was going on. Every member of the group had been at least banged up in the explosion, but not Ron. Harry noticed his best friend's eyes flickering around the room as though he was waiting to be pounced. He wondered if Ron had been reading those mystery novels again. Then found a traitorous thought entering his brain which asked, if perhaps, Ron had caused the explosion. He fought with the thought, attempting to wrestle it into submission, but it would not quiet down. Despite their friendship he vowed to keep a close eye on Ron. The thought that Ron would join the Death Eaters was terrifying. Just the flicker of thought caused him an almost physical pain, yet he better than anyone, knew that Slytherin did not necessarily equal Death Eater material.

He had found himself more observant since Sirius' death. There was nothing or no one that escaped his notice. At least that was what he tried to tell himself. He was not quite arrogant enough to believe it, but it made him feel better to think that he could watch out for his friends. He had been doing it for over 5 years, and wanted to continue doing it.

Madam Pomfrey called it vigilance. She and the headmaster spoke to him about post traumatic stress. They didn't understand. They couldn't. That was all right though, he would keep watch.

--------------------

Vincent Crabbe sat quietly by his friend, fighting down the fury that was attempting to choke him. That ungrateful Gryffindor. Oh, how he wanted to hate Ronald Weasley, but he couldn't. It wasn't Weasley's fault that Gregg was lying so still, so quiet. He chanted that to himself over and over again, blinking moisture from his eyes. His mind argued back that it was Weasley's fault that he hadn't even glanced over to see if Greg was alive. He ignored the fact that Ronald Weasley had stayed beside Greg until they had reached the Hospital Wing.

He continued blinking the persistent tears away. After all, no one from Slytherin House cried. They didn't! There was no time to feel when one had to plot taking over the world. He snorted at that thought.

He had noticed how the other houses had bonded together. It had been a slow process. Greg, Vincent remembered, had smiled, attributing it to Weasley's charisma. For all Vincent knew, it was true. Whatever the reason, there was not a single Slytherin in the united front the other houses were presenting. Bulstrode had tried to gain admittance, though with the drubbing she had given the Granger girl in their second year, it had been doubtful she would find it. She hadn't and a subtle gloom had descended over the small remnant of Slytherin House trying to remain free of the Death Eaters.

The minority was larger than any one would guess but some were weakening. Slowly, they were being drawn towards the acceptance offered by Voldemort. Vincent couldn't blame them. If not for Greg... He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against his friend's shoulder.

"Please wake up." He murmured quietly, but there was no answer to his quiet plea.

***

Pomfrey watched quietly as the houses separated and wanted to growl. She had never really noticed how excluded Slytherin was from all that went on until today. She watched Finch-Fletchley sit beside the Longbottom boy, with what appeared no intention of moving, the 6th year Gryffindors gathering around him. She watched as the only one to go to Goyle was Crabbe. It appeared that Slytherins were even isolated from each other. The other Slytherins stood quietly, awaiting their turn to be tended.

She briskly walked over to Gregory Goyle and began to gently heal his wounds. She wondered what had possessed the boy to do what he had done. The boy had always appeared to be rather dim and yet, he had made it into Hogwarts which obviously said something in his favor.

"Mr. Crabbe, I need you to move." It took no effort to make her voice soft and gentle because she could see the anguish in Crabbe's eyes as he looked up. He rose from his position next to his friend and stood quietly to one side.

He glanced over at the Gryffindors, and for an instant, he thought about going over there and yelling at them. He wanted to shake them until they saw how they were pushing the Slytherins right into Voldemort's hands.

"Poppy, how is he." The quiet voice made Vincent jump for he had not noticed his Head of House enter the Hospital Wing.

"He'll live, Severus. Things look slightly worse than what they were. He's lost a lot of blood and managed to bump his head." Her lips compressed in anger at those words. She had tended the boy after holidays at home and a knock to the head was not something the child needed.

Snape wanted to growl. The boy got enough abuse at home. As a Death Eater he had turned a blind eye to many things that sickened him over the years. This had been one of the worst. He calmed himself. It would do no one any good if he lost his temper.

"Fine, I have things to take care of. Mr. Crabbe, you are excused from afternoon classes and are free to stay with Mr. Goyle. Poppy, call me if there's any change," and with a flair of his robe he strolled away.

***

Crabbe slumped back down in to his chair. Whenever his friend was hurt, the part he hated the most was waiting. It always seemed to drag. A burst of laughter from the other side of the ward made him want to turn his head. He fought the impulse because he didn't want to show weakness.

He blinked. Hadn't he promised Greg things would change if Malfoy got expelled? He turned his head slightly and saw Potter wave something in the air. He said something that started the laughter up again.

He lowered his head into his hands, rubbing his temples slightly. The pain was unrelenting, but he had taken care of the bleeding with a quietly murmured spell when Pomfrey's back had been turned.

It was Greg that needed the attention. He became aware of a slight sound, looked at his friend and saw glazed eyes trying to focus.

"Greg." He kept his voice just above a whisper not wanting to cause him any pain.

"Vince?" He would know that voice anywhere. It was the voice that brought comfort.

# Am I home? What's going on? What's happened now? #

The sound of his name conveyed so much. It asked what the hell? And, where am I?

"There was an explosion in class. You threw yourself over Weasley but were hit by the majority of the shrapnel. If it's any consolation, Weasley doesn't have a scratch. He even stayed with you until we got here."

Greg said nothing for a few seconds. "Vince, what did you just say?"

He chuckled slightly at his friend's question. "Kind of hard to believe, huh?"

"I'm serious. I couldn't follow what you were saying.

"You couldn't follow me." He kept the panic at bay by force of will. He had made it a point to speak slowly and clearly, knowing what bumps to the head could do.

"Greg, what day is it?"

"Don't know. We're at school, right? Shouldn't you be with Malfoy? You should go. He'll be upset and hurt us."

"I'll be right back, ok?" He had made every attempt to keep his face calm but he must have failed because Greg was suddenly grabbing his arm and his eyes held a slightly wild look.

"What happened to me, Vince? I was trying to think about things but I can't. I can't think! Oh Merlin, Vince. What if I can't think anymore? What am I going to do? I can't go home! They'll throw me out. I won't go home."

"Shh. Shh. It's ok. You just woke up."

But Greg had stopped listening to him and was sitting up. He tried getting to his feet. His voice had slowly risen until it carried to where the others were. Suddenly Pomfrey was there and Vince had never been happier to see someone in his life.

"Mr. Goyle, you must calm yourself."

"I can't remember things right. I don't remember some of the spells. They'll make me leave. You don't understand."

"Tonks, go find Severus. I can't leave this child right now."

Crabbe watched as a young woman seemed to materialize out of thin air and ran off towards a fireplace.

"No one will make you leave." The medi-witch soothed, but Vince knew his friend and wasn't certain if anything would calm him.

He growled as he noticed Weasley was making his way towards them and glaring back at someone. He moved between Greg and Weasley.

"This is your fault. He wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for you. He saved your life"

"I know! I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say. I guess I have a lot to think about. I might be dense but I'm not stupid."

"Everyone out!" Pomfrey snapped. "I know you all have classes to get to. You too Justin. Move it."

The group hurriedly left.

--------------------

They walked in a subdued clump through the halls, even Seamus keeping quiet. Ron fell back beside Harry and Justin who had managed to leave side by side.

"I'm going to grab a bite to eat. Won't do any one any good if I pass out. Madam Pomfrey has enough people in the Medical Wing." Justin looked questioningly at the others after his statement, but they looked shell-shocked and didn't answer him.

"Ron?" The redhead shook his head no and wandered off. The sight of a hysterical Gregory Goyle plaguing his thoughts. Hermione walked up beside him and hugged him.

"It makes you reevaluate your beliefs, doesn't it?"

He chuckled in reply and rested his head on her shoulder. Harry joined them and the trio walked to their common room. They couldn't think of food after what they had witnessed.

--------------------

Severus walked silently through the halls. He had put this meeting off for longer than he should have. He should have gone as soon as the children were settled in the hospital wing but he hadn't. He had done some repair work to the classroom and gone through any and all information on Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. He pushed away the voice that called him a failure. He had failed Neville and now his Slytherins, too.

The students who saw him gave him plenty of room. By now, every one knew about the explosion in the potions room and no one wanted to get in his way for fear of losing House points. Severus barely noticed and on the rare occasions when he did, it caused him neither amusement nor despair. He was numb, and happy to be so.

This upcoming confrontation was something he didn't want to take part in, but he would. His Slytherins needed him and he would fight for them. He hadn't been a perfect Head of House by any stretch of the imagination but now he would do what it took, even if it meant confronting someone who felt they could judge him. Someone who had judged him and found him lacking.

***

Alastor Moody sat in a comfortable chair leaning back in a relaxed pose that would fool most people, but he was not relaxed. He couldn't remember what that sensation felt like. He was certain that once, before Voldemort's first terror-filled rise to power he had relaxed. He had known what it was like to have fun and joke with his friends but he couldn't really remember what that felt like. He remembered the moments, could recall and describe the experiences, but could no longer feel the emotions associated with those experiences. It worried him sometimes, his inability to feel things that others who had been through the war were able to feel, but he had no time to really think about what that meant.

They called him Mad-Eye with contempt but used his skills and knowledge. "Bastards," he growled to himself. "Good for nothing scum."

He was as paranoid as people said he was. He laughed softly. "Oh, admit it, Alastor," he murmured to himself, "you're more paranoid than even your worse detractors could ever imagine".

He owed Albus a great deal, but so did many others. He snorted at his line of thought for he knew precisely where they would lead, to Frank, Alice and one Severus Snape. He angrily tried to shove the disturbing thoughts away but they would not be denied. That poor child. Alice and Frank couldn't care for their son. They had never really had the chance to, and now Augusta was gone. He wondered where that left the boy. Alastor had been no kind of uncle but neither had Snape. He figured they were about even in that department.

Snape, fuck it all. He'd watched the man all last year, after being called to Voldemort, during order meetings and his reports. He'd watched with less and less glee as Black and most of the others shunned the man, heard the whispers and became more convinced that were he in Snape's place, he would have told the order to get screwed. He sighed feeling rather lost.

The knock on the door had him reflexively tensing and palming a mini-wand. He turned his magical eye to the door: #think of the Devil.#

"Come in, Snape."

Moody didn't want this. Didn't want to talk with someone who Frank and Alice had loved and considered an honorary uncle to their child. He didn't want to talk to someone who had been and still was a Death Eater, in name, if not thought. If he were completely honest, he didn't want to talk with someone he had obviously misjudged and was now forced to work with. There was no way to avoid this conversation, so he braced himself for whatever the other man might say.

Snape took a deep breath and opened the door. He looked around the room, allowing curiosity to get the better of him for a moment. Moody had become even more paranoid after his experience during the Triwizard Tournament. Snape found himself agreeing with the paranoia and wondering what half the trinkets were supposed to do.

"I've come to discuss the explosion."

"Caused by one of those damned Slytherins." Alastor growled reflexively.

He knew that he was jumping to conclusions. It could have very well been a Gryffindor. He better than anyone understood that betrayal had little to do with house, family, or friends, even though he ignored that fact most of the time. He took one breath then two, reminded himself that seconds before he'd been mentally preparing himself to be fair.

"Not proven, Moody." Snape clenched his fists so as not to reach across and strangle the other man.

"Well? What do you want?" He was rather proud of the fact that he managed not to pout.

Snape took a deep breath. He had to do this. He and Moody had to trust each other if they were to get to the bottom of what had happened. The explosion had been deliberate and had targeted Gregory Goyle, who lay in the Hospital Wing, unconscious. That damned Potter brat had touched it off but the worse that should have happened was a ruined potion and some smoke and an evil stench, not the chaos that had ensued.

"Do you have Veritaserum that you would trust?"

The question was like a punch to the gut for moody, finally destroying any last mistrust on His part. It was bloody frustrating because hating Severus Snape had helped to keep him sane over the years.

Alastor closed his eyes, briefly remembering a time when protection was for everyone, not just for those who could prove their worthiness. Alastor had been burned too often by those he protected to want to protect them any more.

# When you need him the most, he won't let you down. I wish you could see that. The guilt he carries is so huge, old friend.# Frank's words echoed in his head. They had been spoken over a decade and a half ago but they rang with the clarity of the moment.

# I can't, Frank. Gods above and below, I can't!# He replied to the voice in his head as though his friend were alive and well. Yet even as his mind rebelled, it was becoming easier for him to see what his friend had tried to teach. # I don't think I know how to trust any more especially a Death Eater,# but the argument sounded weak, even in his head.

#one who is spying for Albus,# commented a tiny voice in the back of his mind.

# I am going to have to trust the bastard# Alastor's thoughts were very unhappy. Albus would pay. He would find some horrible long ceremony that * just* required the presence of the Headmaster. He grinned to himself.

Severus Snape watched the smile and wondered what could make such a world-weary man wear that expression. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. It was almost playful. It was the kind of smile Aurors had probably worn when hunting Death Eaters in the first war.

"I do, Snape." He always carried some of the best Veritaserum with him.

"I thought you might. I have a proposition for you. I'll drink it, right now, in front of you. You can ask whatever questions you like as long as I am given the same liberty in the near future."

Even expecting the suggestion hadn't quite prepared him. Without a word, Moody rose wincing at the waves of pain that shot through him.

Snape watched Moody limp across the room. He felt admiration for the man. It was obvious he was in agony, but he moved with the remnants of what once had been poise and grace. The poise, thought Snape was still there.

Moody grabbed two wine glasses and filled them most of the way with a deep red-colored liquid Then added four drops of the truth serum to one of the glasses.

Stupid, he thought to himself. He had no idea what the other man would ask when it became his turn. He carefully balanced the glasses and went back to Snape and held one out.

Then at the last moment, he remembered having read that Snape was one of the rare people that reacted unusually to the Syrum.

"We don't have to do this. We could use Occlumency instead."

They stared at one another for a long moment. then Severus shook his head. With what seemed to be a silent agreement, they drank at the same time.

"Do your worse, Moody!" he snapped the jibe out before the syrum kicked in.

He braced himself for the worse and hoped it would be enough.

"Thought this would be best. We can pretend to be civilized." Moody's tone was surprisingly soft. #for someone who does not have a tipical reaction, prompting is more helpful than tipical questions.#

What to do, to say? Alastor thought quickly feeling more alert and alive than he had in a very long time.

The wine took him back to when Frank and Alice Longbottom had been well and it hurt Snape to think of them. He had failed them so miserably.

"Been thinking about Frank and Alice a lot, you know. That poor child of theirs." As he spoke, Alastor sat and leaned back in his chair. They thought he was mad and undiplomatic, they didn't have a clue. He could be all those things, but had once been the top Auror. Did people think all you had to do for that spot was point your wand and throw hexes?

"Alice loved this stuff and I could never get out of there without having a glass or two." To his shock, Severus found himself reminiscing.

"She would say there was nothing like it to loosen the tongue." Moody smiled slightly. "You know, they trusted you. They would tell us at every meeting you were on our side. Alice was very vocal on your behalf." He chuckled and waited.

"Do you think I would have come here and suggested this without being on your side? Do you think it's easy for me to watch over a House of students whom I can't save, whom people hate? How do you think it feels for me to go into a shop and have people stare at me with contempt, to have some shop owners not sell anything to me?" He lifted the glass and drank deeply, his hand trembling.

Snape rose and stalked around the room, years of repressed anger bubbling forth. The words were just pouring out of him, completely bypassing his brain. A part of him reveled in the freedom of speaking his thoughts to someone. In his hazy thoughts, he remembered vaguely reading somewhere that this wine had been created for the specific purpose of aiding communication.

Well, he thought, I'm communicating. He felt a vicious grin tug at his mouth and couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. Then he scowled fiercely, remembering the conversation he was having.

"I even have to put up with Order members, who should know better glare at me and whisper behind my back. What the bloody hell do you think that's like, Moody? You dare to sit there and judge me, to judge all Slytherins as if we were lower than dirt, but it was I, a Slytherin who got you your precious information." He walked over to where Moody sat and leaned close enough to feel the man's breath against his face, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "I'm doing it now, Moody. How does that make you feel?"

Snape fought the floating sensation that was slowly creeping over him. He had believed that he could deal with the reaction to the truth serum. He was one of the few people who did not react normally to the potion and was used to compensating. In slight despair, he reminded himself to stay in control, to not give into the state of euphoria and brashness that came over him while under its influence.

Moody realized that maybe he had gone too far. The usual amount of veritaseram given was three drops, not four, and he'd put it in a drink with relaxing properties. Now Snape was acting strangely. He had rarely seen the man display emotions and now it was as though all those years of repression were trying to express themselves in one go. He'd know better next time; except that there was something appealing about this Severus Snape.

The sudden harsh pounding on his door made him wince. The timing was atrocious.

His door banged open and Nymphadora Tonks stood panting in the opening. Snape noticed that her hair was black today.

"Severus, that boy woke up, and he's hysterical. You've got to come, right now."

***

Snape got to his feet and walked to Moody's fireplace. He threw in a bit of floo powder and clearly said "Hogwarts Hospital Wing."

"Shit." Moody swore.

"Dora, take this to him." He handed her a tiny vile then downed the rest of his drink.

She gaped at him. She stared down at the antidote in her hand and wondered if her mentor had truly gone round the twist.

"Get moving girl!" His bellow had her following Severus into the floo.

As Severus walked into what appeared to be chaos, he wondered if the day would ever end. Gregory Goyle was curled in a corner with what appeared to be a shield up and no wand in sight. Poppy Pomfrey and Vincent Crabbe were both trying to talk to the obviously distressed boy who appeared only To be focusing on Crabbe. Thankfully, the only other person he could see in the entire ward was Neville.

At least she had made everyone else leave.

"What is going on here?" He made his voice quiet and Poppy walked towards him, seeming to realize that Mr. Crabbe would have better luck calming the other boy.

"He woke up obviously upset. I think there's been some brain damage. I haven't been able to calm him enough to find out though. He's afraid of being thrown out of school."

Severus found himself sighing. "Mr. Goyle." His voice was sharp and brisk and it cut through the hysteria. "Please try and calm yourself."

The young man snarled at him. "No, I can't go back there. He'll kill me. He'll kill me or give me to that. I won't. I will never ever serve Voldemort." He tried to sit up, fleeing being the only clear thought in his head. "I'll die first, do you hear me?" He fell back, the effort of sitting being too great.

"Greg, please." Vince felt hysteria of his own. He'd never seen Greg this upset and, more importantly, he was unsure where the professor's loyalties lay.

Greg heard Vince's voice but he couldn't quite calm down. He couldn't be asked to leave.

"I will protect you."

"Lier! I know you serve Voldemort."

"Greg Please," But Vince's words were barely a whisper.

"On my magic do I Severus Snape promise protection to Vincent Crabbbe and Gregory Goyle." The flash of gold that whipped around the three of them was completely unexpected.

Snape could have kicked himself. He had just put his cover at risk. The damned serum was flowing through his system along with the wine, making him act on his impulses. Moody was going to die. There was also the fact that enough sacrifices had been made on the altar of this war. He would not allow These children to become another.

"Will you let Madam Pomfrey examine you?" Snape watched the shield waver and Crabbe's hand slipped through, stroking back the sweat-soaked hair.

"Severus drink this." Tonks panted as if she'd run a race. With an evil glare he complied and she flinched. He was so sexy; it was a bloody shame he was so unfriendly. With a quiet sigh, she backed into a corner until she was unnoticed.

"Please, Greg, I'll stay right here." The shield dropped the rest of the way and Goyle fell unconscious.

--------------------

Moody sat in his rooms after Snape left, wanting to brood but he couldn't quite work up the level of negativity needed. "Albus is going to kill me." Alastor mumbled.

He started to down the rest of his drink then grabbed both glasses and through them at the wall. He called a different bottle and glass and had himself a drink. He rose to his feet to fire call Albus. He wasn't one to avoid a mistake, but when he reached for the powder to call, he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He slumped back into his chair for a long thinking session

--------------------

Albus sat in his office considering what to do with Draco Malfoy. Denying the child his power was one thing but he knew that students went to the Null section of the castle to use the computers and other Muggle technology that didn't work reliably in the rest of the castle. He was startled when a voice called him from the fire. He turned to see one of the healers from St. Mungo's staring at him.

"What's happened?" He was concerned that someone had been hurt or died without him knowing about it.

The woman in the fire had a weary look to her. "The Longbottoms have died."

Albus stared in horrified shock. He had always hoped that somehow, someday, they would wake and be fine.

"I see. What were the circumstances?"

"They were sleeping and just never woke."

"Thank you." Albus cut the fire call, heart sinking. Now he had an orphaned child to add to the one he was holding hostage. Not that Neville's parents had been able to be parents but they had been alive.

Grabbing a pinch of powder, he threw it into the fire "Deputy Head Mistress."

Minerva's exhausted face was suddenly in front of him.

"What is it, Albus?"

"Pop in here, please."

She gave him a long, hard look before nodding and disappearing. Moments later she stepped through the fire.

Albus grabbed a bottle of very potent whiskey, poured two glasses and downed his before handing Minerva hers. Then he poured himself another and sat back. He couldn't work up amusement at the widening of her eyes.

"Albus, what has happened!" She hadn't seen him drink since the horrible day the Longbottoms had been attacked and Moody had been taken out of field work.

"The Longbottoms are dead, Minerva. They won't be waking up. I always hoped," he took a small sip of his drink, "that one day Frank and Alice would wake."

Minerva wasn't much of a drinker but she downed her drink and reached for the bottle to have another.

"We have to tell Alastor and Severus," commented Albus as his trembling hand refilled their glasses.

"We'll need quite a lot of drinks before we do that," was the murmured reply. They sat drinking until a voice from the fireplace had them jumping.

--------------------

History of Magic was the class where no one paid much attention. To Ron, not paying attention had become an art form. He sat, a smidgen of his attention focused on the droning teacher and the rest focused on the events of the day. A sharp jab to his ribs forced his attention back to his notes.

He sighed as he saw the picture that got clearer with every doodle session. It had begun over the summer. Whenever his mind was distracted he would begin doodling. At first, he had ignored it. He figured it was just because of the shock his mind and body had been through at the Department of Mysteries.

He had decided something needed to be done the day his mum's kitchen table was covered with abstract figures. He had tried every removal charm he knew. Once he had calmed down he had taken soap and a rag and set to cleaning. It had come off but Ron had been very frightened.

With a trembling hand, he had written Hermione to explain what was happening. Her reply had not been comforting.

^^^^^ Oh, it's probably another aspect to your magic. I'm sending along some books, Ron. It will do you good to read them. They discuss the theoretical aspects as well as some practical advice. You simply cannot doodle on everything. From what I have read, it is your skill at strategy trying to tell you something. You should really pay attention.

The letter had gone on for pages. With nothing useful and many theories. He * had* read the books. All four thick tomes, cover to cover. He had practiced the meditation exercises that were to help him gain conscious control.

No one had noticed his change in behavior until the day he had doodled all over one of Ginny's assignments. It was then he realized that some of the doodles were becoming figures. He had recognized Harry and himself, Neville and Cho. They had been perfect little miniatures. He had grinned in slight delight, for the moment forgetting how frightened he was of this new ability, until his furious sister had begun yelling at him.

To his immense horror, he had begun to cry like a baby. His mum had come running and he had told her everything. For one of the few times he could remember her attention had been completely focused on him. She had hugged and stroked his hair, her voice gentle and soothing.

Ginny had remained angry for the rest of the day. Then she had come up to him at dinner and thrown her arms around him. She'd told him she loved him and it was just "one stupid assignment."

***

"Come on, mate." He was jolted out of the memories by Harry's hand shaking his shoulder. He reached down to grab his notes but Harry beat him to them.

"You can look later."

He staggered as he rose. "I'm glad this is our last class of the day. I'm so tired."

Harry steered his friend all the way back to the Gryffindor tower and tucked him in. Then he went down to the Gryffindor Common Room, with Ron's bag in tow. He waved Hermione and Ginny over.

Hermione discretely placed a modified silence bubble around them so that she could keep an eye on the room without their conversation being overheard. Ginny shamelessly opened her brother's bag and started rifling through the contents.

"When did the doodling start and has it always left him so drained?"

Ginny shook her head. "The first time I Remember seeing anything like this was over the summer. The more detail he gets into them, the more tired he is after. I think he's kept everything." Then her eyes widened and she jumped up, slipping out of the bubble and running up the girl's staircase.

"What do you think that was all about, Mione?"

"We'll find out. Let's look at what he drew today."

"They really are becoming drawings. It's not just doodling any more." Harry snatched the day's notes out of her hand.

"This one doesn't make sense on its own." Harry stared at the detailed Goyle figure.

Hermione tilted it so she could look as well. "It could just be from the events of the day."

"It could, but I don't think so."

Just then Ginny skidded back into the common room and walked sedately to where Harry and Hermione were sitting. She held a slightly wrinkled sheet of parchment in her hand and showed it to them. It was the image of a single figure that took up the entire page.

"Do you recognize who this is, Gin," questioned Hermione intently.

"I recognize the person, but I can't put a name to her." She frowned in concentration.

"What we need is to organize all of these into some sort of order so that we can trace the progression. We'll probably need help. There's a spell we can use but we've got to keep it contained."

"Why?"

"Because, Harry, we know the majority of these are in Gryffindor tower but we don't know where or if some of them have been misplaced throughout the castle."

She pulled her wand out of her robe and made a complicated gesture. "There. I've begun to set the spell. This is normally used if a large number of things need to be found and organized, like books or something." Harry snickered and she playfully swatted him with one of Ron's note books.

"I need to go to dinner and keep an eye on the kids."

Harry nodded and didn't tease her. The day had been stressful enough and she took her prefect duties very seriously. "I'll stay with Ron."

Her reply was a nod even as she gathered up Ron's things and placed them back in his bag. She waved the silence bubble away with her wand and left. Ginny caught Mildred Holestead's eye from across the room and joined her. Suddenly alone, Harry found he was extremely tired. He got up and went up to his dorm. He would just rest a little while. Then he would get up and do homework and make certain Ron ate.

--------------------

In the Hospital Wing, Vincent Crabbe kept vigil at his friend's bedside. After Snape's visit, Greg had awakened calmer but still frightened and his memory was still patchy.

"Vince?"

"BULSTRODE," He snapped in reply, "You startled me."

"I'm sorry. No change?"

He shook his head and kept the tears at bay.

"Snape has promised to protect any one who-" she shrugged.

"That's one bit of good news in this mess.

Ron was tired of tossing and turning. He had missed dinner having slept right through it. He hadn't even woken for homework though he vaguely remembered Harry trying to get him up.

Ron took slow even breaths counting down from 100. He had heard that was one way of courting sleep, but it wasn't working. Instead of the numbers running down, he could see a huge chessboard with him and his friends on one side and Voldemort and the Death Eaters on the other; the Night time version of his doodling. He whimpered quietly. This was ridiculous. Now the images that were forming so easily on paper were following him into his hobbies. This most recent manifestation of his magic, as Hermione referred to it, had begun after Halloween.

He had always seen Crabbe and Goyle standing with Voldemort but after the events of today they stood in the middle of the board. The goyle figure was watching him with a sorrowful look. That should be important but for the moment, he didn't want to think why.

Ron growled to himself. One thing he * did * know was that he would get no peace unless he went to check on the cursed Slytherin who had woken hysterical and babbling about not being able to think right. And he had to do his homework.

This entire thing was crazy. His life was slipping out of his control and he had no idea how to get it back.

He thought of sneaking off with Harry's cloak but only for a moment. Harry had been a bit strange since Sirius' death, not that Ron blamed him but he didn't think sneaking out with the cloak would inspire trust in him. Harry had been looking at everyone as a threat. The looks had been discrete but Harry and Ron had been best friends for years. He wouldn't put that at risk for anything.

Ron grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes as an idea came to him. It had been a while since they had gone adventuring. He pushed from his mind the fact that most of those times had lead to disastrous situations.

He quietly slipped out of bed and walked over to Harry's. He sighed in exasperation as he watched his friend twitch. Harry was apparently having a nightmare weather it was Voldemort inspired or not didn't matter. Ron decided to wake Him. His friend had resumed the Occlumency lessens with Professor Snape but he wasn't perfect at it. After Sirius, death Harry had applied himself with vigor. Apparently, even Snape had been impressed.

He got his wand and murmured a quiet Finite to end whatever charms Harry had placed around his bed Then leaned over and began whispering into Harry's ear. He didn't touch for fear of Harry reacting badly. One time, Ron had made the mistake of patting Harry's shoulder and had been flung across the room. He vowed he would try to avoid such events in the future. Harry had reacted badly to Ron's bruises. The tiny whimpers tugged at Ron's heart and he redoubled his efforts to wake his friend.

"Harry, come on mate. Wake up. You're safe. It's a dream."

Slowly, the words began to penetrate the nightmare.

"Ron? Is that you?" The words were slurred by sleep but distinct enough.

"Yeah, alright, mate""

"I was dreaming with the Department of Mysteries."

Ron wordlessly hugged his friend, rubbing gentle circles over his back. He sighed as Harry relaxed into him. Several moments went by before Harry spoke.

"I know you didn't wake me up because I was having a bad dream. You couldn't have known that I was having one."

Ron snorted but spoke quietly, very aware of his roommates sleeping nearby. "I can't sleep. I have to go see him or I'll get no peace!"

"What? Ron, you want to go see a Slytherin?" Harry snickered trying to keep his voice down.

"He saved my life. Harry, they wanted to hit where I was sitting."

"Or, where he was sitting," Harry murmured.

"W-what? But Harry, he was late for class," Ron's words had steadily risen until by the end he was all but yelling.

He slammed a hand over his mouth and froze hoping their roommates didn't wake.

"Let's go to the Common Room." Harry said, feeling this conversation needed to be had in a place where they could talk.

"Snacks," Ron asked.

Harry nodded realizing suddenly just how hungry he was.

The boys disentangled themselves and Harry opened his trunk and got his invisibility cloak. Ron slipped back to his bed and popped his trunk open. He grabbed a small satchel and headed out of the dorm room.

--------------------

They sat together on one of the arm chairs and Ron whispered a couple of charms with a wave of his wand. The satchel expanded.

"How much of this stuff are we gunna eat."

"Couple sandwiches and some crisps and some of your mum's cake?" Harry shot him a puppy dog look and Ron snickered.

"Want some juice too?" Harry nodded.

Ron distributed the stuff between them then spoke a couple of charms to keep the food fresh and shrunk the satchel again.

He smiled because he felt that he had come along way from the boy who had been ashamed of bringing his mum's food on the train with him. The fact that Harry had not had anyone to care for him had slowly brought Ron to the realization that his family was a gift. Now, though he still loved eating from the cart on the train, he ate his mum's food too, though more often than not, he and Harry ate the food at night while they talked. His mum had gone a bit overboard, probably because Harry had spent the winter holidays with them.

The boys ate in silence for a few moments. Once the tiredness receded, Harry felt that he needed to bring up Ron's comment about the explosion.

"I don't quite understand what happened. I know Crabbe yanked me down, so I must have done something wrong because he was muttering about it."

"Ron took a bight out of his sandwich before speaking. "Harry, I didn't see what happened, I just know one minute I was stirring and the next I was flung to the floor. When I got up because I realized no one else was capable of doing anything there was stuff flying everywhere. I don't care how bad you messed up it wasn't as bad as Neville's more spectacular mistakes and those never targeted people across the room."

"Ok, so initially, my dumping the horns would have done?"

"Hell if I should know."

The boys exchanged exasperated looks. They would never be good at potions. The preciseness required was often beyond them. They were more prone to immediate action. They needed answers and didn't want to wake their friends.

"For now, let's go to the Hospital Wing. Then, I've got to get back here and do homework."

Harry laughed at Ron's comments. "That you do though it is Friday."

"Think Mione will take pity on me and let me copy?" Harry gave his friend an astonished look and the two cracked up.

"I guess that's a no?"

"Let's go then." Ron sent their garbage away and the boys wrapped themselves in the cloak.

***

It was much harder sneaking through the halls than they were used too. There was indeed someone standing outside Gryffindor tower but a slight noise distracted them and the boys sprinted past. They moved with stealth jumping at shadows. They did not want to face the wrath of the Head Master.

They moved quietly into the room where Goyle was and saw Crabbe sitting next to him.

They listened as the two spoke softly

--------------------

"--Are you thinking, Vince?" The two boys were sitting very close together and it was hard for Ron and Harry to hear them.

"I'm thinking that we have no choices. I don't know what it will take but it does not matter. We can't keep going on like this, Greg. He's hurting you every time you go home and I can't stand it."

"I know! It won't change. I've given up you know? And Slytherin house, They'll just hurt us again."

"We saved Weasley and Potter's lives. It has to mean * something* to the headmaster."

A soft snort was the reply. "I'm tired, Vince, and I don't want to think about it anymore." All Greg could hear was the mocking laughter from breakfast.

"We have to, Greg. We're outcastes in our own house."

"Were we ever anything else? Think, damn it. If it wasn't for that utter prat Malfoy-" he stopped, his entire body going still. Goyle pressed a finger to his friend's lips and leaned forward before continuing.

"We're not alone in here." He fought down the panic that wanted to consume him.

--------------------

The easedroppers exchanged glances and Harry removed the cloak.

"Hey, Goyle. I just wanted to see how you were doing." Ron blushed as he spoke.

"I'm sorry we were listening in but well, you were in the middle of a sentence and," Ron covered the distance between them, "I probably owe you my life. If there's anything I can do?"

"Yes, I want you to train some of the younger Slytherins in defense. Not everyone wants to serve Voldemort, you know." He expected a skeptical look, or a sneer, or something, not the nod of acknowledgement he received.

"Of course, just tell me who."

"Fine. Thank you for stopping in. You can go now." He felt too raw to deal with Ron and warmth that would only ever fleetingly be directed at him.

"I'll come back tomorrow, ok?"

Ron could have slapped himself. He had just agreed to return and visit.

"Yes, do." Crabbe smiled at Ron. "You guys can discuss potions."

Ron nodded, dazed. Discuss potions?"

"Yes Ron. You know we're really bad at potions." He turned a scowl on Harry. The look he received in reply seemed to say, you wanted to come see him.

"You two should go."

"Right, don't want anyone catching us." With that, Harry flung the cloak around them and began to tug Ron away. Ron for his part tried to speed up the process and got them tangled. The resulting "thump" brought Poppy pomfrey at a dead run.

"What is going on in here?"

"Erm, well madam." Greg began quietly, "it was an accident. Vincent, he uh," Greg looked down at the floor.

Poppy found her gaze following the boy's. She sighed.

"Mr. Crabbe, please get off the floor. I would appreciate it if you kept yourself in a chair or a bed."

"I'm sorry, madam pomfrey. I dozed off."

"Well, since I'm here, I may as well take a look at you, Mr. Goyle."

He sighed in frustration but allowed her to poke and prod and wave her wand over him.

"Um-hmm. Yes a week should do it."

"A week! I can't miss classes that long. I really can't. Madam Pomfrey." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'll never catch up."

"You will. Now rest! Mr. Crabbe if you cannot contain yourself I will countermand Severus' orders and send you back to your dorm. Is that clear?"

"Yes, madam Pomfrey!"

With a shake of the head, the medi-whitch walked away.

--------------------

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance and very slowly got to their feet. Ron slipped out of the cloak and gazed down at the young man on the bed. He thought for a moment, a far off look in his eyes.

"What?" The question was asked on a sigh.

"You, you don't want to follow ... Voldemort, do you."

Greg found his eyes drifting closed. "Would anything I say convince you? I've already asked for your help with the younger students."

"I know." Ron's hand drifted over and pressed down on a shoulder. "I really do. It's habit. You need to see that too. I, it's hard to begin to know how to trust you. I owe you my life, wizard's debt."

The flash of anger was unexpected. "You owe me nothing, get, out."

"Ok. I'll come back to see you, ok?"

"Don't bother. Just, please." Greg turned his head away.

Ron looked at Crabbe. "Hey, I'm trying, ok?" But he was unsure of why.

"Just go, Weasley. This time it was Crabbe who spoke and Ron finally slipped back under the cloak.

The attempt to leave this time was successful and quiet. The two boys made their way towards the tower. They were both too lost in thought to talk or to pay much attention to what was going on around them.

If they had, they might have noticed the group of students stealthily moving through the halls and the group of people stalking them. If they had, then the sudden shift in location would not have been so shocking. As it was, the two ended up sprawled on their behinds.

--------------------

It was the sound of laughter that got them to finally focus on what was going on around them. What they saw, was nothing they could have expected.

"Who?"

"What?"

Ron and Harry spoke at the same time.

"Brilliant! I've got the two of you at once. You've got to hurry up and get on with the buggering, boys." The amused look suddenly turned sorrow filled. "I've got a great deal to make up to Salazar. He might never forgive me at this rate."

"'scuse me." Ron's voice fell into the quiet, "Who are you?"

"Have I got to show the two of you the entire thing, or will telling you be enough to satisfy you?"

"Erm. Uh. Well. If we had a clue of what you were talking about." Harry replied. He was more than used to unusual things happening to him and this didn't surprise him, much.

"My name is Godric Gryffindor. The entire wizarding world is at risk and I need to get out of here. I need your help." a long-suffering sigh followed the words.

Surprisingly, the statement didn't sound as far fetched as it should have to the two boys. Ron just gave him a get on with it look.

"It all started when I was wandering the woods near my home.

The two boys exchanged a look.

"Please go on." Ron mumbled to himself.

"I was just a child."

It was a warm beautiful day and Godric was board. He was always looking for something to do. He was 10 years old, old enough to help out around the shop but momma wouldn't let him. He hadn't meant to break the shelf full of glass items. It had been an accident but momma had said that until he was older and until he could pay attention to what he was doing; he couldn't go into the shop.

He had decided to wander the woods. He became aware of a soft hissing and something that sounded like crying. Poppa would yell at him for going to see but poppa wouldn't know.

He walked towards the sound. He entered a glade with a tiny brook flowing through it. Under one of the trees sat a boy that looked younger than him. In his hand he held a snake and he seemed to be talking with it.

"Hello there." He spoke just above a whisper, not wanting to scare the other boy.

The head snapped up and Godric stared into the most dark lovely eyes he had ever seen. They reminded him of night time.

"What do you want?"

"I heard a sound and I came to see what it was."

"You could have been killed or something." The other boy gazed at him with a sad expression.

"Where are your parents?"

"I don't have any parents. They didn't want me because I can talk to snakes."

"You want to come share my parents?" Godric could think of what to tell his parents later. He didn't want the other boy to be out in the woods all alone.

"What would I have to do?"

"Oh probly help out in the shop. Mother doesn't let me any more."

"Are they going to give you away?"

"No. There was this shelf of glass things. Poppa makes them and I knocked it over and everything broke. We tried to fix it but we couldn't."

"There should be a spell to make things not break ever. Then your parents wouldn't be mad at you."

Godric shot the other boy a dazzling grin. "That's brilliant! Want to help me make one?"

"I guess."

Excited, Godric tugged the smaller boy to his feet. He dragged him all the way home baby snake and all

"Godric, who is your new friend?" The bearded Red-head looked down from a towering height.

"Oh uh, well, papa, you see."

"My parents sent me away and I came to the area near your home. Godric said you might let me stay with you?"

Godric could see his papa softening. He and his papa always liked to help people. Papa just didn't think he should wander the woods alone. That was the bestest part for the young boy.

"You can stay for now. I'll have to talk with Godric's mother.

"He was allowed to stay. He helped me create all kinds of spells."

"Were you lovers?" Ron asked the question softly.

"Very briefly, and in the manor of most people who end up in my house, I screwed it up."

"Look, you have the chance to set us free. I can't force your emotions but if you give that boy a chance, Weasley, I don't think you'll regret it."

"Do we have to uh have sex?" Ron flushed a spectacular red.

"I don't know! I guess that would do it?" But there was an uncertainty in the tone that left a great deal to be desired.

"What exactly has to happen? You were pretty certain about buggering needing to be involved as you so quaintly put it."

"The girls were pretty vague. They were very angry at us. Couple of our kids managed to ruin part of the school. They said something about seeing beyond and Snakes and Lions. They were always cryptic like that."

"Girls? By girls you do Mean Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, right?" Ron asked.

"Well, yes."

If either of the two founders was like Hermione I'm sure it was something totally smart and way beyond us." Harry added glumly.

"Maybe the Slytherins could help?" Ron piped up.

"I mean think about it. If they don't want to serve Voldemort then we should have them figure out how to free the founders."

"Assuming this is true and not some scheme." Harry said harshly.

"Hardly. That idiot is going to get a peace of my mind descendent of Salazar or not."

"Can we go back now? I have to do homework." Ron complained.

"I suppose though it is a Friday night." The thought was a grumpy one.

--------------------

The transition out of the previously unknown area was much smoother than the entrance had been. The two boys found themselves right across from the fat lady. They watched as Hermione quietly murmured the password and disappeared into the Common Room. The boys exchanged confused looks then followed.

"Mione?" Ron's voice had obviously been unexpected.

She spun around and almost fell over. Harry caught her.

"What's going on, Mione?" Ron was too tired to work up any ire at all.

"I went to see Neville."

The two boys exchanged a look and then each took one of her hands. They lead her to the couch and sat her down.

"So" Ron began, "what's up with you and Sceamus?"

That got a scowl, something they felt comfortable with and not the lost look she had been wearing.

"I don't know. It's like, he's growing up." She mumbled; a slight flush tinting her cheeks.

"I liked the world better when everything was Black and White, Good and bad. When I could say there's a Slytherin, bugger has to be bad! Now a Slytherin saved my life. He just covered me like a blanket. I'm not worth that." The last was spoken so softly that Harry and Hermione were very sure they weren't meant to have heard.

Ron was just staring off into the fire place. His eyes held a distant look.

"Ron?" Hermione spoke gently but it still startled him.

"Yeh!"

"I finished your Homework."

He nodded and continued staring at the fireplace. Then the words slowly penetrated the fog he was in.

"You did what?" He turned towards her, his eyes wide and stunned; one hand upraised and his jaw hanging open.

"It was worth it just to see the look on your face." She laughed as she spoke unable to contain herself.

"I'm so lost. I don't think I even know what day it is?" The change of mood was quick and he thought he was still in shock.

"It's the first day of classes after Christmas holiday. You can ... rest tomorrow and Sunday," Hermione said gently.

Ron blinked at her.

"Are you suggesting I don't study this weekend?"

She laughed a bit self-deprecatingly. She knew she was overbearing when it came to studying but Ron was worrying and he'd actually read over the summer without any complaints.

"We're not off to a good start." Ron mumbled. "We already have students in the hospital and everything."

"What's got you worried?" Harry looked at his friend unused to this introspective Ron.

"I wish I new. He looked so defeated, Harry."

"Yeh, I never thought. You know? Crabbe was arguing with me about what a bad hero I am."

"Why?" Ron asked his indignation against all that was Slytherin rising from its semidorment state.

"Had something to do with the potion."

"It wasn't a difficult one." Hermione interjected.

They blinked at her. She sighed and rose from the couch.

"I'll be right back." She went up the girl's staircase and got Ron's homework from her bag.

--------------------

She was rather proud of it. The writing matched perfectly. There wasn't even a trace of magic on the paper.

The best part in her opinion was that every word she wrote was a Ron-type word. His rambling incoherent style was perfectly observed. It just hung together a tad more than usual.

She tiptoed back down the stairs and found the two boys asleep. It was the cutest thing. They really didn't fit on the couch. Ron had grown and how he managed to do that every two weeks or so she'd never know. It just seemed that every time she looked at him he'd filled out a bit more. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear he had Giant blood in him. Not that the Weasley's would mind, probably.

She glanced over at the corner where the spell they had activated for dinner was a strange Gray. They needed to find all of Ron's doodles. They just had too. She just didn't think the spell was supposed to be Gray. She'd read it was supposed to be clear. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. She scanned the spell for ill intent, and found nun. She'd deal with it later.

She moved away from the corner, strengthening the "notice me not" charms on it. She sat down across from her two friends. She'd just wait for them to wake up. She unrolled one of the scrolls with Ron's homework to review it. Everything had to be just right.