Disclaimer: Characters and Hogwarts environs are still not mine. Hopefully this computer will remain mine.

ooOOoo

Chapter 49:

Harry was either tired or becoming blasé about his night-time ventures around the castle. He was nearly caught by Filch, and only evaded Peeves by using his old ruse of pretending to be the Bloody Baron.

Harry needed a new trick before Peeves got wise.

Sneaking along a deserted corridor where the only sound was the soft snores of the sleeping portraits, he was caught by someone unexpected.

The quiet click of claws on the floor alerted Harry – too late.

A darker, bear-like shadow in the darkness made a small noise almost like a whine. And then it began to stalk slowly towards where Harry stood shaking, suddenly frightened the cloak seemed to have stopped working.

The shadow stepped into the moonlight shed through a high window.

Snuffles.

Harry let out his breath in relief. If he held still, maybe…

Snuffles tilted his head, ears twitching with suspicion, then lunged forward, by sheer luck barrelling into Harry.

"Hey," Harry hissed angrily when he got his breath back. "What d'you think you're doing?"

The dog gave his general area an ancient look (and what the hell d'you think you're doing?) and snorted.

Harry sighed, pushed back the hood, and asked, "Did Luna get back okay?"

The dog nodded firmly and sat down, tail curling up a little at the end like a cat's, although Harry doubted either Sirius or McGonagall would appreciate the observation.

"Good. Are you going back to blab to Lupin about seeing me?"

A shrug.

"Whatever." Harry picked himself up. "I'm going to visit Malfoy to see if there's anything we need to worry about. There's no way he'll tell Lupin about anything dangerous… or useful… and I don't think the odds of him suddenly trusting in Dumbledore are in our favour, either. We need to know what he's seen."

Snuffles tilted his head again, as if considering this, then nodded.

Sneaking back into the Infirmary wasn't too bad – only a simple unlocking charm coupled to a detect-me-not to counter Pomfrey's alarm, and Harry was inside. He scanned the room carefully, not seeing anyone obviously of a Malfoy inclination (the other beds were occupied by either a mummy or yet another student who'd overdone it on the acne potions, and Denis Creevey, both hopefully sound asleep). With a sigh, Harry headed over to the door leading to the smaller room, the one where he and Severus had stayed after the werewolf attack.

Of course Draco was there.

Harry lit a candle, sat down on the bed Severus had occupied on Harry's last visit twenty-some years ago and stared at Draco's face, clouded even in sleep, and wondering if he was looking at another Death Eater in the making.

Having Snuffles sit down at his feet didn't help, either – Harry found himself angry with his godfather all over again, as if being back here was somehow recreating the events of the past, this time with Draco instead of Severus. He suppressed the urge to give Sirius a kick.

Then he told himself to stop being so damned gloomy, and shook Draco's shoulder.

"Hey. Draco. Wake up."

"Ngk. Piss off…"

"Malfoy. Come on, you git. Wake up."

"Ngh?" Draco rubbed his eyes blearily. "Potter – don't you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yeah. It's four hours after I left you here. That's why I held up four fingers."

"Oh. That was a bit obscure. You usually only hold up two."

Harry grinned. "Good one. Not bad for someone who's just woken up."

"Cheers." Draco yawned. "Um… why am I in the…?"

Harry saw the moment memory hit by the wince.

"Nothing's happened," Harry said; it was what he'd want to hear in the circumstances, and seemed to work for Malfoy just as well. "Everyone's fine as far as I know."

Draco peered over the edge of the bed. "You brought Lupin's dog in here? Should I ask why?"

"Er… good question, for which I have no answer. Go wait outside, Snuffles."

Snuffles bared his teeth.

Harry folded his arms. "Bad Snuffles."

With a look of deepest disgust, Snuffles went back outside the room, shaking his head.

Harry closed the door behind him.

"Right. So what'd you find out?"

Draco sat up, wrapping his arms around his blanketed knees. With his tired, rumpled look coupled with his hair flopping over his face he looked more human and less like a Malfoy. It eased Harry's secret worry – the guilty one he'd not even confided in Hermione or Ron – that Draco had gone to sell them out to his father. "Well, there are spells past the gate – hellpits and a sort of tangling charm that will bind you if you touch them… Simon was okay, thank God, because after the Dementors I was beginning to worry he was really a special breed of magical horse or something, but the tangle-charms didn't affect him. I'll give you a counter for the hellpits tomorrow, but the blue tangling charms are best dealt with by blowing them away with a strong wind. The Weasley twins came through on that one –"

"You saw Fred and George?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Uh." Draco scowled. "Nearly broke my arm. But they're fine. Last I saw of them they'd just seen off some Dementors with help from Tonks, the guy from Honeydukes, and… I'm pretty sure it was Mad-Eye Moody."

"You're sure they're okay?" Harry didn't like the idea of the last sighting being while Dementors were around.

"Yeah. Should be. The Dementors were pretty much done for by then. Good Patroni… Where was I? Oh yes…"

Harry listened as Draco described the night's adventure, from the closed shops of Hogsmeade to the final gallop through the barrier and the silver stallion Patronus.

"Pretty good," Harry said admiringly.

Draco looked smug. "You're damn right it was pretty good. How many people can call up a corporeal Patronus like that?"

"Well, me for one…"

Draco looked like he'd just chugged a glass of lime juice, and Harry tried not to laugh.

"Can I see what's in the sacks?"

"Expecting letters from home, Potter?"

"Huh, not likely," Harry grunted. "But I'd like to check out what you got for Hermione. Are you going to give the gloves another go?"

"Yes… and that reminds me. We need to get the mistletoe. In the next few nights. Flume said it had to be collected before midsummer's eve."

"When's – oh, that'd be in three or four days."

"If we can try getting it tonight, that will give us some lee-way for bollixing up the collection…"

"Or getting caught."

"Like I said, bollixing up the collection."

"We need Neville…" Harry was expecting Draco to argue, but the blond only wrinkled his pointy nose and said,

"It'd be for the best, if he can keep his big, blabby Gryffindor mouth shut, of course."

"Gee. I'll tell him that. I bet that'll be the best pep-talk he's ever heard…"

"Don't be facetious. Who else? Granger…"

"Definitely. And Ron.

"I'm feeling outnumbered."

"You're coming, are you?"

"If you want something done right, do it yourself," Draco replied primly. "And it might be good to bring Simon. He's got excellent night vision, and he can probably tell us if any monsters are coming."

"That means bringing Luna – or filling her in at the least. And she'll insist on coming if we're taking Simon into the Forest." And Harry didn't like that idea. Luna could get hurt.

"She's not a delicate flower, Potter."

Harry also didn't appreciate having his mind read. "I guess. How's your eye?"

"Tender. Matches my ego."

Harry chuckled softly. "Who would've thought Luna could pack a punch like that?"

"Oh, don't go all misty-eyed on me…"

"Better than black-eyed."

"Oh, you're so funny I need Pomfrey to come back and heal my ribs…"

"Mind if I check the bags?"

"Go for it. But the one of the left… might be better if you don't open that outside the kitchen. It's got shrinking charms on it and if they go off you'll end up with more than egg on your face… what?"

Harry had just remembered Severus telling him not to try a heating spell on an egg. "Nothing. Ever used Thermus on an egg?"

"Once. You should try it out some time."

"Thanks but no thanks. I'll leave that bag. Do you want me to take the potions bag to Hermione?"

Draco frowned. "I guess that'd be best."

"Don't worry, everyone knows you got it… everyone we want to know, that is… You get the kudos."

"Makes a change from getting the blame. Might be a good idea to take all the interesting things out and return the bag to me. Don't want Lupin getting suspicious. More so, that is. He's already told Pomfrey I have to stay here for three days at the least…"

"What'd Pomfrey say?"

"She didn't really say anything. Not in front of me." He hugged his knees tighter. The sullen Malfoy look of plans foiled was back in full strength.

"Hm. I've got an idea," Harry said before his arch-enemy, the pre-blindness Draco Malfoy, could make an appearance.

"And?"

"And I'll try it out tomorrow morning. I can take the stuff for Hermione now – there must be a spare bag somewhere…"

He stole a pillowcase instead, tucking away the bottles and packets with care. "Brilliant, you remembered the linen cloth! Right. That's the lot, except for the generic potions ingredients. If I leave those here Lupin won't wonder why the bag is suddenly empty."

"No, now it's only half-empty whereas the last time he saw it, it was full."

"Tell him you got hungry and needed a midnight snack."

"Because that's always the perfect excuse for eating lacewings."

"Mm, mm. Gotta love those lacewings."

"Go away, Potter." But he sounded more amused than exasperated.

"Okay. See you after breakfast. I hope."

"You're not going to break me out for breakfast?"

Harry rolled his eyes and barely stopped himself from telling Malfoy to stop whining. "Give me some time… I need to talk to a few people first. We're going to do this nice and legally…"

"That is the perfect excuse for nightmares."

"Nah – didn't Pomfrey give you Dreamless Sleep?"

"Oh, was that was that was?" Draco's face screwed up. "I thought it was just to put me to sleep."

"I suggested it on my way out. I didn't want you comatose when I needed to find out what you'd seen and done."

Draco nodded sagely. "Ah, those good old-fashioned personal motivations. Well, anything that stops bad dreams can't be argued with."

"'Night."

"'Night."

Harry blew out the candle on his way out, and nearly tripped over his godfather.

"Bloody h-! Oh, it's you. Sorry. Come on."

With Padfoot following, Harry slung his Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and disappeared from view.

ooOOoo

Hermione was delighted. "He even got the bilbil tongues!"

"It's not Christmas, 'Mione," Ron yawned, coming out of the bathroom. "And do you really have to spread all that junk out over my bed?"

"What better place? It's not like you ever make it. And Christmas is when I finally work out how to make the gloves… And you're going to spoil your appetite if you eat all the jelly slugs. And you're eating sugar after you just cleaned your teeth!" It was obvious which was the greater evil for the daughter of dentists.

Ron shrugged. "If I eat them all I can forget that Malfoy did something nice for me. Stop looking for the catch."

"You do realise that by eating them, you agree to the sale of your immortal soul?" Harry said as he finished his last attempts at brushing his hair flat. It sprang up again immediately – nice to know some things never change, Harry thought with wry satisfaction.

Ron tilted back his head and dropped the last jelly slug into his mouth. "I hocked my soul years back… wanted the Chudley Canons to win."

"Did they?"

"Nah," said Ron, chewing. "Still arguing the fine print to get my soul back. Lawyers should keep me safe from Malfoy in the meantime. Hey, Harry, if it came to a show-down between Malfoy and Ultimate Evil, who would your money be on?"

"Hm. Good question. Are we talking Voldemort here?"

"He's pretty ultimate as evil goes."

"Voldemort… but only if he doesn't stand around going on about how brilliant his plans are, mwa-ha-ha, and how pathetic Draco is by comparison, mwa-ha-ha, here is the itemised list for world domination: socks, apples, sunblock, bald-head-polish, ointment for piles – whoops, that was the shopping list – where's the bloody master plan? Mwa-ha-ha? Here it is… here is the itemised list of his masterly plan which is in action – no way of stopping it now, foolish weaklings, mwa-ha-ha-haaa…! And in the process giving Malfoy time to sneak up and stick a knife in his back. Which, now I think of it, seems kinda likely. You?"

Ron rubbed at his chin, assuming a scholarly air. "Can Malfoy run away?"

"Good question. Let's say no for the purposes of the argument."

"Then, yeah, I reckon Malfoy'd fight like a rat in a trap. First round, throwing a handful of sand in You-Know-Who's scaly face and then kicking him in the fruit-and-veg. If Snake-Face has anything to kick there, or course. Winner by a dirty knock-out."

Harry laughed. "You know, I could see that…"

Hermione snorted, pressing her hand to her mouth, her hair falling forward as she tried to hide her amusement. "I can't believe you're having this conversation. But how are you going to get him out of the hospital wing, Harry? Ron needs to know so he can win some money on Malfoy versus Riddle."

"Hey, money to buy stuff for you, pumpkin," Ron said, sitting down on the bed next to Hermione and smiling with deliberate cheesiness. He held open his arms and Hermione leaned against his chest for a big hug.

"Oh, you're so sweet…" Hermione squealed in return. "My big huggy-wuggy-ronnikins…"

They pressed noses, giggling.

"God, that's sick, you two," Harry said, sticking a finger down his throat and pretending to gag.

Hermione and Ron broke apart, laughing. "Gotcha, mate," said Ron.

"Yeah. Bleakh. There's jokes and then there's… well, whatever that was meant to be."

Hermione grinned wider as she began to pack away the illicit ingredients. "I bet you're not so revolted you can miss breakfast. And getting back to my original question, how –"

"– Am I breaking out Malfoy? I'm not."

Harry grinned as his friends shot him puzzled looks.

"Watch and learn. Watch and learn."

ooOOoo

"Hey, Bulstrode…"

"Potter."

The greeting in the Great Hall wasn't friendly, but neither was it the blocky girl's standard hostile glower directed towards all non-Slytherins (or only Gryffindors – Harry had never bothered finding out). Harry took this as a positive sign.

"They've got Malfoy locked in the Infirmary. Lupin wants to keep him there for three more days. He won't let anyone visit. Seems a bit much if you ask me."

She scowled, a natural expression for her, as she propped her elbow on the table and looked up at Harry who was wondering if he should have sat down to appear non-threatening (as recommended by Robert Python in chapter 1). "What's it to you, Potter?"

"He's helping me with the horse. And it's not right he should be punished for doing something to help all of us here at Hogwarts."

Harry was aware Bulstrode wasn't the only one listening. He didn't turn, knowing automatically that if he did all he would see would be the Slytherins around their table concerning themselves with breakfast – and Harry knew for a fact porridge wasn't half as interesting as they would make it seem should he suddenly look at them.

"So why are you telling me?"

"Because the teachers are all aware Malfoy and I have kind of a muddy history. They'd think it was weird if I suddenly started being his advocate."

"They'd think that because it is weird. And so are you."

When Harry didn't take offence, the belligerent expression softened marginally.

Trudi tugged at Bulstrode's sleeve. "Potter's been okay lately," she mumbled, as if embarrassed at her own words. "Better than the teachers. I don't think he's doing this to provoke us into acting too early…"

"You're not meant to be talking about things like that, you stupid little firstie," Pansy snapped.

Trudi coloured and looked down.

Things like what? thought Harry.

Millicent rubbed her chin. It made a scratching sound. Harry hoped she hadn't started shaving daily – he'd be mortified if she did before him.

"I think it's time to start acting instead of reacting," Bulstrode said slowly. "You might want to go and pretend to be innocent through this, Potter."

Harry didn't pretend not to understand – Millicent really wasn't dumb if she knew he'd just been trying to manipulate her into doing what he wasn't able to achieve on his own. He bowed slightly, jerkily, and walked away, ignoring the prickling between his shoulder-blades of the concentrated stares from the Slytherin table until he slipped down onto a seat at the Gryffindor table between Ron and Luna. Luna gave him a smile and took his hand under the table, squeezing it.

The sun emerged from behind the clouds in Harry's world.

Storms were on the horizon of everyone else's: silence rippled out from the Slytherin table – from Millicent Bulstrode as she stood, her heavy square jaw set firm as the foundations of Hogwarts, and turned to face the professors at the high table.

Several of them flinched as they saw her moving slowly – much in the manner of icebergs approaching supposedly-unsinkable ocean liners – towards them.

"Headmaster? May I have a word, please?"

Dumbledore inclined his head gravely. "Of course, Miss Bulstrode." He conjured up a chair. "Please, sit."

All through the hall, talking died down to whispers which were hushed into silence as Bulstrode sat.

She folded her hands on the table in front of her.

"It's about Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Ah, yes. I believe he is safe and sound in the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey is keeping him isolated after his ride last night."

"Is it true he went through the barrier?"

"It is."

She pressed her thumbs together. "And is it true he was hexed so badly he needs to be kept isolated for three days? Or that he plotted to murder someone within Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Where did you hear that?"

"So he didn't?"

"No, Miss Bulstrode. Mr Malfoy is perfectly fine."

"Am I allowed to visit him, then?"

"I'm afraid Professor Lupin and Madam Pomfrey have decided to keep Mr Malfoy apart from his fellow students for the duration of his hospital stay."

Bulstrode nodded and took a deep breath (and so did others at the sight). Tap, tap, went her thumbs against each other. "Provision 16c of the Hogwarts charter states that no student may be kept in solitary confinement unless he, she or it is in a serious medical state requiring quarantine, or has been accused with evidence of planning to injure fellow residents of Hogwarts.

"Furthermore, if said student does not fall into either of those two categories and expresses a desire to see his family and/or friends, he is allowed to do so. Is it true that Harry Potter asked to see Draco Malfoy, who had expressed a willingness to be contacted, but was turned down?"

Lupin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers while many of the students were still scratching their heads and trying to understand what Bulstrode had just said. From where he sat, Harry could see Goyle trying to work it out on his fingers.

"It is," said Lupin slowly. "But, as everyone in Hogwarts is well aware, not only is Mr Malfoy the son of a person beyond the barrier who wishes many of the Hogwarts residents harm, but Mr Malfoy has had recent access to his father and may have returned with information or articles to damage us. So a special case is made under the charter. And as for Mr Potter's desire to visit him, it is also well known that the pair have a history of bad blood."

"So you're saying that the sins of the father should be visited upon the son? Is that right? Is that in the Hogwarts charter? Is it also in the charter that people can't change, and, for instance, Harry Potter can't grow up enough to recognise the fact that Slytherins are just as much a part of Hogwarts as Gryffindors? Excuse me if I feel you underestimate Potter's potential as a person."

Face warming as the heads of everyone in the Hall swivelled to look at him, Harry wanted to hide under a table. He'd never liked being used as a Quaffle. But then Luna's fingers wound through his and Harry could take them all on – any day, any time… yeah… He tightened his fingers around Luna's and was rewarded with another squeeze.

McGonagall looked as if she wanted to hex Bulstrode and possibly Harry into the next millennium. A muscle twitched in Lupin's cheek as he raked a cold glance over Harry (but what did that matter when Luna was holding his hand?), and Sprout and Flitwick eyed each other as if to say, 'Run while you can.'

But Dumbledore nodded and said gravely, "You have a valid point, Miss Bulstrode. Professor Lupin? As our DADA expert, are you that certain of the threat Mr Malfoy poses?"

Lupin looked like he'd just had the ground taken out from under his feet. His lips thinned. "I am, sir. I shall investigate the student over the next few days to determine the nature of the threat he poses."

"Then, Miss Bulstrode, until I am assured that Mr Malfoy has not brought harm back through the barrier with him – and I am sure that if he has it would be unwillingly or unknowingly done – I am afraid the quarantine must stand."

Bulstrode stood. "Thank you for your time, Headmaster."

She strode back to the Slytherin table.

Voices picked up around the room as it became more apparent she wasn't going to challenge Dumbledore to a duel (bets had been three-to-one against after her first confrontation). But it seemed the other students had relaxed too soon.

There was a banging of a goblet on the table, and Bulstrode's voice cut through the hubbub like a blunt knife: "So, we are agreed?"

A chorus of 'Aye's answered her.

Chairs scraped as the Slytherins stood.

Bulstrode's voice, normally slow and quiet, rang beneath the enchanted ceiling: "Brothers and sisters of the Republic of Slytherin, we go now to the aid of Comrade Malfoy, cruelly imprisoned for the crime of self-determination!"

'Hooray!' was the general theme of the shouts as the Slytherins filed out of the hall.

Singing was heard through the doors, given hollow echoes as the Slytherins marched up the stairs:

Freeeeeeee
Draaaaaco Malfoy.
Freeeeeeeee
Draaaaaco Malfoy.

It wasn't original, but it was effective: an exasperated Lupin threw down his fork, which bounced off the plate, spun through the air, and hit Vector on the side of the head. Sinistra was massaging her temples – her lips seemed to be saying calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean. Dumbledore turned to McGonagall and muttered something in her ear. She nodded and slipped into Animagus form, the tabby slipping away out of a side door.

Dumbledore turned and gave Harry a level look. Then winked.

Harry barely noticed; he was too busy worrying what would happen when the Slytherins got to the Infirmary.

I've created a monster.

Even the warmth of Luna sitting next to him couldn't distract from that thought.

ooOOoo